Five years without a family: Typhoon Haiyan Survivors still mourn the missing

TACLOBAN, Philippines: "My siblings are Jheraline Limpiado, James Jay, Jhirwin, Joy Apple, Khristine Mae, Geraldine, Jannika, Janeth, April. Those are my nine siblings. "

Shyra Limpiado is unwavering in her poise and bravery as she recites the names of her brothers and sisters. All of them are dead.

She is quite astonishing, Shyra. The 20-year-old is one of the world's most powerful storms ever recorded, Super Typhoon Haiyan. But after losing 11 members of her family, her parents, on one single day, an extra layer of resolve has been forged within her.

Shyra was the eldest of her siblings. She would help look after them while her father, a fisherman, and her mother, a saleslady, would work to support the large family.

They were poor, a typical family living along the coastline of Cancabato Bay in Tacloban.

"We were a happy family despite having little money. There were times when we had no food to eat. Even if my parents were struggling to make ends meet, my siblings and I were still happy because we were complete, "she said. "We enjoyed our favorite bonding activity, which was singing."

The typhoon hit five years ago Shyra's memory of every moment of its impact is clear and melancholic. She talks about countless moments remembering, and regretting.

"The rain felt like it's on my skin," she said.

"As the wind and rain worsened by 6am, my whole family was thrown into panic. We went out holding each other's hands while our house was washed out to sea, while our neighbor's house had lost its roof.

"I was holding onto my siblings. The water was already going up and drifting in the ocean.

"My sister and I were struggling to hold on to each other while we were screaming that we were going to die. My sister screamed out my name when we slipped each other's fatps. I was struggling to keep my head up so as to not drink seawater.

"The last words I heard from my parents were, 'where are you, my children?'. That was when we went to the house. I was separated from my family and I found myself underwater. I was 15 years old then but I did not know how to swim like my other siblings. I thought I was in heaven because I saw a bright light while underwater. I prayed to the Lord.

"The sight was horrendous while we were on our way to the elementary school; every structure was washed out. I saw dead bodies hanging on the school gates and I was looking for my family there, but to no avail.

"I waited until nighttime, hoping that my parents would show up with my siblings too.

"As I returned to my family's house, I was recognizable my father's dead body by the shirt and jacket he was wearing. I held my father's remains in my arms and cried. After two weeks of being under the sun, his body had become bloated and his skin was burned. I barely recognised his handsome face.

"Three weeks after I found my father, my sibling 's friends asked me to come back. I immediately spotted my seven-year-old sister Joy's clothes from afar. She was lying by the shore and a dog was feasting on her remains. Her eyes and ears were gone. I'm sorry I'm going to be dead. "

DNA MYSTERIES

With such loss and despair, the scars of Haiyan will not disappear easily in Tacloban. In the city alone, at least 3,617 people lost their lives.

Shyra's story is shocking, but it is not unique in its profound sadness.

In the aftermath of the typhoon and storm surge, chaos and confusion ensued as people struggled to survive, split apart from their loved ones and were left clinging to a fraught existence.

Amid the ruin of the city, dead bodies were hastily collected and moved to decay. Normal funeral procedures were impossible.

Under the direction of the local government, the vast majority of the body was buried in the mass grave, explains Ildebrando Bernadas, the Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Department (CDRMM) for the city of Tacloban.

"Just a meter deep we buried them with plastic sheets underneath. Then we processed them one by one, "he said. DNA processing began at the same time and was taken from each of the bodies of those who died.

Just before the first anniversary of Haiyan – known as Yolanda in the Philippines, officials arranged for wooden crosses to be erected in the graveyard. Tacloban's residents had been trying to connect with their loved ones.

"We left the area when we came back, all of the crosses already had names. People went there and wrote the names. It was very surprising. Every time we planted a cross, someone would wait to claim it. This was the barrier, why people did not start recovering, did not start rehabilitating. They were still worried about where their loved ones were, "Bernadas said.

Those wooden crosses would eventually be replaced by more permanent stone ones. But one aspect of the mourning process is still absent. The DNA process was never completed.

To this day, the identity of all people in Tacloban is unknown. The names on the crosses are long gone. And no proper alternative burials can be done.

"Where are the results? The national government, despite the many follow-ups, would always say 'not yet'. I do not know what really happened, "Bernadas said.

"If ever the sample of the DNA samples yield matches then I can pinpoint to where you loved it."

The DNA process was entrusted to the National Bureau of Investigation (NBI), which suspended the costly profiling and examinations in November 2015. When reached by News Channel NewsAsia, NBI did not comment on when or if the process would resume.

'WE ARE WAITING FOR YOU'

Shyra has never visited the graveyard where she suspects at least two of her family members. It is highly likely to be buried there, but it is not yet ready to accept.

Shyra still holds out hope that her family members will return to her.

"I remember my naughty siblings and I miss being with them. I miss them the most during their birthdays. There are times when my mother or my siblings would show up at our door. I also like to think that my parents are somewhere overseas and they have not decided to come home yet, "she said.

The acceptance of someone's death without evidence of a body is a difficult barrier to overcome, Bernadas says. He has spoken to many people reluctant to declare their dead, preferring to keep them on the official list of missing.

"It is a pain in their heart to declare them dead. With a lady who is waiting for her husband to come home. In the gates of her home, though it's abandoned, there is an inscription that reads 'we are waiting for you', "he said.

Over the years, the missing register has fallen to 273 in Tacloban City. Declaration of Fellowship grieved, but it also means families entitled to financial assistance.

Shyra has accepted this payment for her family. And for now, there are other daily challenges to contend with. She is living in a relocation site for Haiyan survivors in the north of the city, louboutin pas cher, caring for her younger brother.

Shyra is fulfilling her love of finishing high school and is currently in Year 12. She wants to become a teacher in the future.

Their happy home days are decorated with framed photos of happier days long past: Their mother with a newborn; a band of children colorfully dressed. The cover of the photo album reads "Endless Love".

There is still a deep agony here, suppressed by time. It goes beyond the doors of this home; it is communal and it lingers.

"I'm just counting the time to finally everything about Yolanda will heal. It is not yet over, "Bernadas said.

"The people in their hearts and lives … there is still trauma. During nights when they are intense, they can hear children crying. "

If one of those crying was Shyra, no one could blame her.