France's Mayotte struggles to recover as cyclone overwhelms hospitals

MAMOUDZOU, Mayotte (AP) — One week after its worst cyclone in nearly a century, and a day after a testy presidential visit, France’s impoverished Indian Ocean territory of Mayotte is still grappling with counting the dead, restoring essential services and aiding a beleaguered population.

Cyclone Chido wreaked devastation across the archipelago. Already stretched thin, hospitals are overwhelmed with patients suffering not only from cyclone-related injuries but also from dehydration, malnutrition and disease.

At Mayotte’s main hospital in the capital, Mamoudzou, doctors faced a cascade of crises.

“We lost 40% of patient rooms, about 50 to 60 beds,” said Dr. Roger Serhal, chief of the obstetrics and gynecology department. “There are so many patients coming to the hospital, and we don’t have space to admit them.”

As Chido battered the archipelago last weekend with 220 kph (136 mph) winds, Serhal and his team delivered three babies, including by cesarean section.

The hospital’s structural damage has forced staff to triage patients, prioritizing the most severe cases. Though the official death toll remains 35, according to the French Interior Ministry on Saturday, the number of seriously injured has risen to 78, with 2,432 others sustaining minor injuries. Health Minister Geneviève Darrieussecq has warned that any estimates are likely major undercounts “compared to the scale of the disaster.”

Emergency aid was being delivered by air and sea. Since the cyclone, 31 tons of food and 108 tons of water have arrived, with an additional 1.6 million liters of water expected Monday aboard a container ship, according to the Interior Ministry.

The hospital is operating at 50% capacity, while 109 patients have been evacuated to mainland France for urgent care. Three advanced medical posts have been established on Grande-Terre, Mayotte’s main island, to address the surge in need.

The storm has devastated entire neighborhoods. Many people ignored warnings, thinking the storm wouldn’t be so extreme. Even worse, many migrants avoided shelters out of fear of deportation, authorities said, adding there could be hundreds or possibly thousands of fatalities.

Doctors fear that the lack of clean water and electricity — compounded by overcrowded living conditions — is setting the stage for a health crisis. “Patients are coming because their illnesses are untreated, there’s no water, and no electricity. We’re concerned about epidemics, like the cholera outbreak we stopped just months ago,” said Dr. Vincent Gilles, the hospital’s emergency medical director.

The hospital staff continues to work tirelessly, but resources are running dangerously low. “If we have rain it will be catastrophic,” Serhal said.

Among the patients struggling to recover is Saindou Mohamadi, 54, who fractured his arm and sprained his ankle during the storm that left his home completely destroyed. Speaking from his hospital bed, Mohamadi expressed despair for his family. “My mother is sick, I’m sick, and my child is sick,” he said. “They need to eat, but I’m the one who takes care of the food, and now we have nothing.” With six children to support, Mohamadi is among countless residents left homeless and destitute.

“I’m not alone,” he said. “There are many of us who have lost everything — our houses, our food. I want the government to care about us, to give us food and a place to sleep.”

Mayotte, a densely populated archipelago of over 320,000 people, is also home to an estimated 100,000 migrants, many living in precarious conditions.

The poorest overseas region of France and, by extension, the European Union has long struggled with systemic neglect and underinvestment. Around 75% of its population lives in poverty, and the archipelago’s infrastructure was ill-equipped to withstand a disaster of this magnitude. Chido’s destruction has compounded these challenges, leaving many residents with little faith in the government’s ability to provide timely and adequate relief.

Efforts to deliver emergency aid, including airlifts of water and food, are underway, but the scale of the need is staggering. Mayotte’s airport remains closed to civilian flights due to damage, further complicating logistics.

French President Emmanuel Macron, during his visit on Friday, acknowledged the gravity of the situation and pledged to rebuild but faced criticism from residents frustrated by the slow pace of aid.

Calling the archipelago “totally devastated,” Interior Minister Bruno Retailleau painted a bleak picture — with some 70% of the population gravely affected by the catastrophe, and many left homeless and vulnerable. For now, the island’s residents and its overstretched medical staff are left to confront the daunting aftermath of Chido, one day at a time.

Adamson reported from Paris.

French gendarmes patrol during curfew outside Mamoudzou, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

French gendarmes patrol during curfew outside Mamoudzou, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

French gendarmes patrol during curfew outside Mamoudzou, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

People walk by destroyed homes in the Barakani, Mayotte, informal settlement, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

Broken cars are seen in Barakani, Mayotte, France on Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

This aerial view shows destroyed homes in the Barakani, Mayotte, informal settlement, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

People line up to collect water in Barakani, Mayotte, home Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

French Civil Security personnel unload water for distribution in Mamoudzou, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

A child's school notebook lays amidst debris in Barakani, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

Women wait in line at a water distribution point in Mamoudzou, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

Children stand in the half destroyed house of Zaharia Youssouf in Barakani, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

A drone view of the Barakani, Mayotte, informal settlement, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

Resident repair their broken homes in Barakani, Mayotte, home Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

People line up to collect water in Barakani, Mayotte, home Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

A man walks in the Barakani, Mayotte, informal settlement, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

A girl walks amidst destruction in Mbouyougou, Mayotte, Saturday, Dec. 21, 2024. (AP Photo/Adrienne Surprenant)

A group of Buddhist monks and their rescue dog are striding single file down country roads and highways across the South, captivating Americans nationwide and inspiring droves of locals to greet them along their route.

In their flowing saffron and ocher robes, the men are walking for peace. It's a meditative tradition more common in South Asian countries, and it's resonating now in the U.S., seemingly as a welcome respite from the conflict, trauma and politics dividing the nation.

Their journey began Oct. 26, 2025, at a Vietnamese Buddhist temple in Texas, and is scheduled to end in mid-February in Washington, D.C., where they will ask Congress to recognize Buddha’s day of birth and enlightenment as a federal holiday. Beyond promoting peace, their highest priority is connecting with people along the way.

“My hope is, when this walk ends, the people we met will continue practicing mindfulness and find peace,” said the Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara, the group’s soft-spoken leader who is making the trek barefoot. He teaches about mindfulness, forgiveness and healing at every stop.

Preferring to sleep each night in tents pitched outdoors, the monks have been surprised to see their message transcend ideologies, drawing huge crowds into churchyards, city halls and town squares across six states. Documenting their journey on social media, they — and their dog, Aloka — have racked up millions of followers online. On Saturday, thousands thronged in Columbia, South Carolina, where the monks chanted on the steps of the State House and received a proclamation from the city's mayor, Daniel Rickenmann.

At their stop Thursday in Saluda, South Carolina, Audrie Pearce joined the crowd lining Main Street. She had driven four hours from her village of Little River, and teared up as Pannakara handed her a flower.

“There’s something traumatic and heart-wrenching happening in our country every day,” said Pearce, who describes herself as spiritual, but not religious. “I looked into their eyes and I saw peace. They’re putting their bodies through such physical torture and yet they radiate peace.”

Hailing from Theravada Buddhist monasteries across the globe, the 19 monks began their 2,300 mile (3,700 kilometer) trek at the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Fort Worth.

Their journey has not been without peril. On Nov. 19, as the monks were walking along U.S. Highway 90 near Dayton, Texas, their escort vehicle was hit by a distracted truck driver, injuring two monks. One of them lost his leg, reducing the group to 18.

This is Pannakara's first trek in the U.S., but he's walked across several South Asian countries, including a 112-day journey across India in 2022 where he first encountered Aloka, an Indian Pariah dog whose name means divine light in Sanskrit.

Then a stray, the dog followed him and other monks from Kolkata in eastern India all the way to the Nepal border. At one point, he fell critically ill and Pannakara scooped him up in his arms and cared for him until he recovered. Now, Aloka inspires him to keep going when he feels like giving up.

“I named him light because I want him to find the light of wisdom,” Pannakara said.

The monk's feet are now heavily bandaged because he's stepped on rocks, nails and glass along the way. His practice of mindfulness keeps him joyful despite the pain from these injuries, he said.

Still, traversing the southeast United States has presented unique challenges, and pounding pavement day after day has been brutal.

“In India, we can do shortcuts through paddy fields and farms, but we can’t do that here because there are a lot of private properties,” Pannakara said. “But what’s made it beautiful is how people have welcomed and hosted us in spite of not knowing who we are and what we believe.”

In Opelika, Alabama, the Rev. Patrick Hitchman-Craig hosted the monks on Christmas night at his United Methodist congregation.

He expected to see a small crowd, but about 1,000 people showed up, creating the feel of a block party. The monks seemed like the Magi, he said, appearing on Christ’s birthday.

“Anyone who is working for peace in the world in a way that is public and sacrificial is standing close to the heart of Jesus, whether or not they share our tradition,” said Hitchman-Craig. “I was blown away by the number of people and the diversity of who showed up.”

After their night on the church lawn, the monks arrived the next afternoon at the Collins Farm in Cusseta, Alabama. Judy Collins Allen, whose father and brother run the farm, said about 200 people came to meet the monks — the biggest gathering she’s ever witnessed there.

“There was a calm, warmth and sense of community among people who had not met each other before and that was so special,” she said.

Long Si Dong, a spokesperson for the Fort Worth temple, said the monks, when they arrive in Washington, plan to seek recognition of Vesak, the day which marks the birth and enlightenment of the Buddha, as a national holiday.

“Doing so would acknowledge Vesak as a day of reflection, compassion and unity for all people regardless of faith,” he said.

But Pannakara emphasized that their main goal is to help people achieve peace in their lives. The trek is also a separate endeavor from a $200 million campaign to build towering monuments on the temple’s 14-acre property to house the Buddha’s teachings engraved in stone, according to Dong.

The monks practice and teach Vipassana meditation, an ancient Indian technique taught by the Buddha himself as core for attaining enlightenment. It focuses on the mind-body connection — observing breath and physical sensations to understand reality, impermanence and suffering. Some of the monks, including Pannakara, walk barefoot to feel the ground directly and be present in the moment.

Pannakara has told the gathered crowds that they don't aim to convert people to Buddhism.

Brooke Schedneck, professor of religion at Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee, said the tradition of a peace walk in Theravada Buddhism began in the 1990s when the Venerable Maha Ghosananda, a Cambodian monk, led marches across war-torn areas riddled with landmines to foster national healing after civil war and genocide in his country.

“These walks really inspire people and inspire faith,” Schedneck said. “The core intention is to have others watch and be inspired, not so much through words, but through how they are willing to make this sacrifice by walking and being visible.”

On Thursday, Becki Gable drove nearly 400 miles (about 640 kilometers) from Cullman, Alabama, to catch up with them in Saluda. Raised Methodist, Gable said she wanted some release from the pain of losing her daughter and parents.

“I just felt in my heart that this would help me have peace,” she said. “Maybe I could move a little bit forward in my life.”

Gable says she has already taken one of Pannakara’s teachings to heart. She’s promised herself that each morning, as soon as she awakes, she’d take a piece of paper and write five words on it, just as the monk prescribed.

“Today is my peaceful day.”

Freelance photojournalist Allison Joyce contributed to this report.

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," get lunch Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Aloka rests with Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

A sign is seen greeting the Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Supporters pray with Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Supporters watch Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

A Buddhist monk ties a prayer bracelet around the wrist of Josey Lee, 2-months-old, during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara, a spiritual leader, speaks to supporters during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks participate in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks participate in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara leads other buddhist monks in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Audrie Pearce greets Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Bhikkhu Pannakara, a spiritual leader, speaks to supporters during the, "Walk For Peace," Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," arrive in Saluda, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)

Buddhist monks who are participating in the, "Walk For Peace," are seen with their dog, Aloka, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in Saluda, S.C. (AP Photo/Allison Joyce)