The earth in Adıyaman, Türkiye, trembled violently on February 6, 2023. For 35-year-old Hamzanur Burak Kızıl, everything changed in an instant as buildings collapsed, and people died. He lived for 72 hours trapped beneath the debris, but at a terrible cost. When he was finally rescued his condition was critical. The road ahead seemed impossible.
Hamza was rushed to Adıyaman Training and Research Hospital, where doctors fought to save his life, but unfortunately, both his legs and his left arm required amputation, and he had severe injuries to his remaining hand. The severity of his condition meant he was airlifted to Bilkent City Hospital in the capital city of Türkiye, Ankara, which contains a specialist rehabilitation center, where a multidisciplinary team from neurology, orthopedics, and intensive care units stabilized him. As he adjusted, a new, unbearable reality set in—his parents hadn’t survived the disaster. Grief and shock overwhelmed him. “I wasn’t fully aware of what had happened to me,” he recalled. “I thought my body was intact. I couldn't believe it when the doctor told me the truth.”
Over 33 days in intensive care, he received not only medical treatment to stabilize him, but also began his journey of recovery, including profound emotional support from doctors and nurses who helped him cope with trauma and grief.
/noncommunicable-diseases-rehabilitation-and-disability-(ncd)/sensory-functions-disability-and-rehabilitation-(sdr)/hamza-2.jpg?sfvrsn=323aecbf_5 "Hamza 2")
For weeks, Hamza lay in a hospital bed, struggling to process everything. Then, in April, rehabilitation became his lifeline. He was the most severely injured among those who had limb damage at the hospital. Yet, within those walls , they formed friendships, and supported each other. At first, even sitting up felt impossible. But his therapists wouldn’t let him give up.
“I will never forget my first physiotherapist, Nadide,” he said. “She told me to put in the effort, so I did. If they trained me for one hour, I trained myself for four.”
/noncommunicable-diseases-rehabilitation-and-disability-(ncd)/sensory-functions-disability-and-rehabilitation-(sdr)/hamza-4jpg.jpg?sfvrsn=d5aac8c7_5 "Hamza 4")
His rehabilitation plan was intense—physiotherapy, occupational therapy, and strength training. Learning to use prosthetic limbs was gruelling. At first, he could barely stand for 30 seconds. Then a minute. Then three. Now, he can walk nearly a kilometre with the aid of a cane. He’s also seeing improvement in his hand function: “Grasping was impossible at first. Now, I can hold a cup of tea,” he shared. “It’s the little victories that matter.”
But the most significant battle wasn’t physical—it was mental. Losing his independence hit him the hardest. “For 14 months, someone else had to feed me,” he admitted. “That was the most difficult part.”
Still, he kept pushing forward. “Every morning, seeing my doctors and therapists gave me strength,” he said. “They never gave up on me, so I didn’t give up on myself.” But the biggest credit goes to my companion, Hayrettin Ayaz, who has been with me for the entire 19 months. He did what most of my relatives wouldn’t have done.
/noncommunicable-diseases-rehabilitation-and-disability-(ncd)/sensory-functions-disability-and-rehabilitation-(sdr)/hamza-1.jpg?sfvrsn=c6a50e59_3 "Hamza 1")
Hamza’s journey is a powerful reminder that rehabilitation isn’t just about medical treatment—it’s about rebuilding confidence, reclaiming life. “Prosthetics alone won’t help without effort,” he said. “But with training and determination, even the impossible starts to feel within reach.”
Now, 19 months into his recovery, he’s focused on one goal: full independence.
He acknowledged, "I still have challenges ahead, but I've overcome so much already." His advice to those going through comparable difficulties:" Never give up. Continue. Rehabilitation is about believing in yourself, not just about the physical body.
/noncommunicable-diseases-rehabilitation-and-disability-(ncd)/sensory-functions-disability-and-rehabilitation-(sdr)/hamza-3.jpg?sfvrsn=a11df1c_3 "Hamza 3")
Hamza's story demonstrates that life after tragedy is not only possible but can be extraordinary with perseverance, support, and unwavering will.
This story was developed based on an interview conducted and photographed by WHO Türkiye / Tunç Özceber.