In depth On 25 April 2015, a 7.6-magnitude earthquake hit Nepal. The epicentre was Barpak in the historic district of Gorkha. The disaster affected 37 out of 77 districts. Fourteen severely damaged districts were declared as 'crisis-hit', which meant they were prioritised for relief and rescue activities.

The Post Disaster Needs Assessment Report of 2015 showed that the earthquake affected approximately one-third of the country's people. Houses, heritage sites and schools were destroyed, and so were health centres, trekking routes as well as water supply systems and hydropower plants. Nepal's emergency response was overwhelmed. This is a poor post-conflict country, and the impacts of decades of civil war still matter.

Accordingly, masses of survivors were left to themselves for far too long in the disasters areas in 2015. Indeed, the fear and trauma of many survivors remain unaddressed. People in Nepali villages – and even in the cities – hardly have access to psychological support. The mental health of countless people has thus suffered long-term.

And still, Nepal was lucky in a certain sense. The earthquake occurred on a Saturday. Had it happened during the week, the casualty numbers would certainly have been much higher. The official data shows that more than 7,000 schools were severely damaged. On a weekday, the buildings would have been full of students.

Moreover, the calamity struck in daytime. It destroyed over 800,000 houses, but many people were outside. The full truth, however, is that not every structure that collapsed did so immediately. A lot of harm was done after the main event.

One lesson learnt is that buildings in Nepal must be constructed in ways that make them withstand disasters. Indeed, legislation regarding earthquake resilience has been passed accordingly. The new regulations make sense, but – as is typical of least-developed countries – cannot be stringently enforced and are bypassed, especially by informal economic activities.

After the earthquake, over 100,000 people were forced to live in temporary shelters. News reports suggested that women and children were at high risk of trafficking and abuse.

In the early days, the government did not play an effective role in coordinating various humanitarian agencies from Nepal and abroad. On top of private and public outfits from Nepal, UN organisations and international non-governmental organisations were involved. Nonetheless, many communities had to wait long before support arrived. Some injured people thus did not get the care they needed and died or remained more severely disabled than would otherwise have been the case. Things were particularly bad where the earthquake had destroyed access roads. To reach indigenous mountain communities, humanitarian helpers needed helicopters, which were in short supply.

As days progressed, stories of discrimination spread. In a rapid assessment, the Dalit Civil Society Massive Earthquake Victim Support and Coordination Committee spoke of 'willful negligence' and 'caste prejudice'. Deep divisions mark society, so some communities were prioritised over others.

It mattered that many people lacked the documents they needed to get assistance. In many cases, government agencies asked for citizenship cards or other legal documents, such as land-ownership certificates. Some people had lost those papers due to the earthquake, more disadvantaged people had never had them in the first place. Requests of this kind led to the further exclusion of people from poor and marginalised communities. The natural disaster thus deepened pre-existing social divides.

On December 25, 2015, the government established the National Reconstruction Authority. Its mission was recovery and reconstruction. Nonetheless, reconstruction efforts remained slow for the next two years. Masses of people had to stay in temporary shelters or damaged houses. There was no clarity concerning government assistance and financial aid. To families whose homes were destroyed, the government provided reconstruction grants of Rs 300,000 in three installments. This policy was quite helpful. However, government plans to offer low-interest loans through the banking system largely failed. Many families, however, could not wait for government money to flow. They started rebuilding houses informally, without complying with earthquake-resilient building codes. While government action did help, more could have been achieved if it had not set in so late.

In December 2020, the National Reconstruction Authority released a progress report. Some 90 per cent of private houses were said to have been restored, but that figure is less convincing than it looks because it does not include a long list of heritages sites.

In December 2021, the World Bank published an assessment of Nepal's reconstruction efforts. It appreciated five approaches as good lessons: using technology to understand reconstruction needs fast; taking an owner-driven approach to building back; providing targeted socio-technical assistance to the vulnerable; investing in structural integrity assessments for school buildings; and sharing knowledge at both local and global levels.

Seven years later, people hardly speak about the disaster anymore. Their priorities have shifted, not least, because the coronavirus pandemic hit Nepal hard. The trauma lingers on nonetheless, and stark inequality persists.

The initial Post Disaster Recovery Framework after the earthquake spelled out a vision of building back better, not least by ensuring resilience, reducing landlessness and recognising women's land rights. For many marginalised people, that has not come true. Had action started faster, more could have been achieved. Nepal will always be an earthquake-prone country. Nepal, therefore, must certainly improve disaster preparedness.

A version of this article appears in the print on August 26, 2022 of The Himalayan Times.