The screams came before the smoke.
Within minutes, a quiet afternoon in Pamplona Alta turned into a wall of fire racing through fragile homes,
devouring entire lives in seconds.
Families ran with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Mothers searched for children.
Neighbors pounded on doors already burning.
And then the explosions star… Continues…
By the time the flames were finally contained,
entire blocks of San Juan de Miraflores had been reduced to twisted metal,
scorched wood, and ash. What were once improvised homes—stacked tightly on the dusty hillsides—now lie in ruins,
their owners watching in silence as firefighters pick through the debris.
Many lost everything: documents, savings, school supplies, photographs that told the story of their lives.
Authorities now face a different kind of emergency.
Hundreds of residents sleep in the open, wrapped in donated blankets,
waiting for food, water, and some sign of what comes next.
The suspected fireworks workshop, hidden among the homes
, turned a dangerous fire into a violent storm of blasts and sparks.
As investigators search for answers,
the community is left to count its losses
and cling to the only thing that survived untouched: each oth
