France's Mayotte struggles to recover as cyclone overwhelms hospitals

MAMOUDZOU, Mayotte — 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 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.''

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.

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