Kampala — WHEN a rock, the size of a mini-bus, rolled down from the top of a steep hill, it flattened his house, killing his wife and seven children but he amazingly survived death.

David Musene (48) was lifted from the family by an invisible force, and flung about 30 meters away.

"We were having supper with my family inside the house, when suddenly, a loud bang went off. In a matter of seconds I found my self in the air then I landed in the thick of marshy soils," a visibly dazed Musene says.

As part of his body lay trapped in the mud, a loud roar and rumbling, signaling another wave of marshy soils and rock pouring downwards from the top of the hill could be heard.

Mastering all the energy he could afford, he disengaged his legs from the 'trap' and fled to safety. He sustained a deep cut on the forehead and a dislocation in the right collar bone.

His account is just part of the horrendous, hair raising tales that barely half a dozen survivors of the February 28 night land slide calamity have.

The slide is believed to have buried an estimated population of about 300 people. The calamity - the most violent in the history of this remote, mountainous area - hit victims in their houses, and buried them under gigantic thick mounds of mud and rocks.

The affected community includes those who live in the villages of Namesi Kibewa and Tumwasi, Bukalasi sub-county in Bududa district.

Micheal Nabutele (49), who lost his pregnant wife and four children for a moment stares in space and shakes his head.

Minutes before the disaster struck, he had braved the heavy rains and gone to the nearby local market to buy sauce for supper. He had just arrived in the market, when hell broke loose.

"A loud unmistakable rumbling emerged from the hill. I could not wait for the worst to happen before I run as fast as possible," Nabutele says.

His father had once taught him survival tips from landslides. "My father always said you run as fast as you can at the first signal of the dreaded disaster, in this remote area prone to land slides," Nabutele says.

However, this advice did not work very well this time. A branch of a huge tree hit him in the belly, throwing him in a marshy zone about 30 metres away, at the bottom of the hill. That is how he survived.

The spot where his house stood is completely flattened with his wife and children buried underneath.

George Kamoti (38) lost his wife and four children. On that fateful night, he had strolled to the local pub a few meters away from his house, for a drink when, suddenly a loud bang went off and the roof curved inside.

"It happened very fast and loud. In a matter of seconds, I was lying on my back on the ground and the roof of the bar was inches away from my nose," he recalls.

He crawled in a hollow route similar to a tunnel looking for an out let.

Unfortunately, none of his friends survived.

Namateshi parish, where the disaster hit about 82 households, with a population of about 300 to 400 people. However, only 68 bodies have been recovered, the rest are still trapped underneath.

Namesi village LC1 chairman Dison Mulwe (59) survived with his family of eight. However, he is now homeless.

"Landslides in this part of the country are as old as the community.

However, we were like a drunken cockerel which could be slaughtered at mid night and prepared as sauce for supper," Mulwa says.

Mulwa says the ground in this area is predominantly rocky. The layer of the ground constituting of fine particles of soil is shallow, ranging between two to three metres.

While the community is delighted that God endowed them with unusually fertile soils, they are bitter.

"The biggest proportion of the ground holds abundant deposits of water. This bursts the rock to form multiple streams, coursing down the hills," he says.

The simultaneous formations of streams arising out of the pressure beneath the rocks inevitably make the thin layer of soils hang loosely on the rocks.

Heavy rains worsen the situation as the thin layer of soil on the rock loses grip, causing landslides.

When the community was asked if they would consider relocating to a much safer place, no one seemed ready. Patrick Kalali, one of the villagers says: "We were born for adversity and we shall live with it.

This is our ancestral land, where the remains of our fore-fathers lay. We cannot go away."

However, Mulwa, with a more civil mind says, "If Government can identify a better piece of land to re-settle, some of us would go."

When The New Vision visited the scene on Tuesday, all that was left was a slanting yard of marshy debris crammed with a maze of people. Multiple streams of marshy water coursed down the slopes.

Relatives and sympathisers, with mattocks, hoes and spades, ploughed the soft rubble in earnest search of victims who could have been trapped beneath.

Recovered bodies were carried and strewn desolately under a tree shed nearby, with nothing to cover them.

Grieved women wept, pacing up and down.

By late evening two bodies of minors had been among those still lying under the tree shed. "Nobody has identified them yet," Kabola the LC2 chairman says.

The eldest of the young victims could have been about four or five years of age while the youngest could have been aged two or three years.

Two men recovered the bodies of their relatives after what seemed like eternity, quickly laid them on a stained bed sheet and tied knots at both ends with a pole.

Like hunters carrying a caucus of a warthog or deer, they carried the pole on their shoulders down the hill.

A stroll at the emergency 'sick bay' set up in a class room at the nearby Namesi Primary School, showed another deplorable scene.

Survivors in critical condition lay on the bare floor, groaning, and gasping in pain.

The UPDF medical team hovered around the patients.

The deputy medical team leader, Norman Lwanga, said there was need for more medical supplies, and beddings. "The chilly weather is bound to increase cases of malaria, because the majority of survivors are homeless," he said.

Musene may have narrowly survived the disaster, but he can not imagine living without his wife and children.

"Death is a bad reaper; my children were too young to die. The thought of losing them in the disaster has given me sleepless nights.

"The tragedy will haunt me for the rest of my life," he says, his eyes wet with tears.

His plight is shared by almost every survivor. As the nation comes to terms with the Bududa landslide disaster, survivors like Musene are dazed, confused, devastated and their hearts are weighed down.

While material support is essential, they also need our prayers.