In November 1985, the world saw a catastrophe that left an everlasting mark on humanity. When the Nevado del Ruiz volcano erupted, it unleashed a disastrous mudflow that buried the Colombian hamlet of Armero and destroyed almost everything in its path.
One of the most devastating natural disasters in history claimed the lives of more than 25,000 people. Amidst the devastation, a single heartbreaking picture emerged to represent the indescribable suffering: a little girl, Omayra Sánchez, caught in the volcanic mudflow, her frail face marked with resilience and sorrow.
Photojournalist Frank Fournier captured the shot just hours before her death, causing a global stir. It earned the coveted World Press Photo of the Year award in 1986 and remains one of the most stunning depictions of human fragility. But behind the lens, a question lingers: why didn’t the photographer help her?
Warning: This article includes content that may be upsetting to some readers.

Inside the Armero tragedy.
To really grasp Omayra Sánchez’s tragic shot, we must first remember the horrific Armero incident.
On November 13, 1985, the Nevado del Ruiz stratovolcano erupted after 69 years of hibernation, utterly surprising the surrounding villages.
Nevado del Ruiz erupted twice earlier, in 1595 and 1845. On both occasions, avalanches surged down the Lagunilla River, near the eventual town of Armero.
Months before the 1985 eruption, geologists noticed heightened volcanic activity and alerted Colombian authorities about the impending threat. Despite apparent clues of what was to come, researchers, climbers, and politicians largely ignored their warnings of an impending tragedy.
Farmers have reported discovering dead fish in surrounding basins. Moreover, researchers found significant amounts of sulfur, and small explosions in the area ignited a forest fire.
However, despite these warnings, no evacuation occurred.
94% of the population was eliminated.
As the volcano’s crater unleashed destructive pyroclastic flows, it quickly melted the glaciers atop Nevado del Ruiz, causing four major lahars—fast-moving mudflows, landslides, and debris—to hurtle down its slopes at terrifying rates of 50 km/h (30 mph). The lahars accelerated as they surged through gullies, eventually swallowing the village of Armero in their terrible course.
According to Colombian authorities, the eruption killed over 23,000 people, or roughly 94% of Armero’s population. The eruption’s smoke and ash ascended to 15 kilometers, drastically changing the region’s climate and leaving it devastated. The eruption wiped out entire communities, destroying 5,092 homes, including 4,718 in Armero alone.
The accident affected 230,000 individuals, with material losses estimated at 35 to 50 billion Colombian pesos, or $7.5 million to $10.5 million.
The Story of Omayra Sánchez Garzón
Among the many victims was 13-year-old Omayra Sánchez Garzón, whose terrible plight captured the world’s attention.
Omayra Sánchez was born on August 28, 1972, in Armero. She was raised by her parents, Álvaro Enrique, a rice and sorghum collector, and María Aleida, a nurse. She lived with her brother, Álvaro Enrique, and her aunt, María Adela Garzón.

On the night of the Armero disaster, Omayra and her family were awake, worried about the ash from the erupting Nevado del Ruiz volcano.
As they eagerly watched, they heard the roar of an oncoming lahar. The enormous eruption submerged the Andean valley of Armero in a sea of mud, trapping Omayra beneath the rubble of her home, with concrete and debris holding her down and making her escape impossible.
A brave individual confronts hopelessness.
When rescuers came, they discovered her legs buried beneath the rubble, with her aunt’s dead arms still securely embracing her. Despite efforts to liberate her, the job appeared impossible—any attempt to move her risked causing further injury. Rescuers wrapped a tire over her legs to keep her afloat as rising water engulfed her. Despite their best efforts, the rescuers quickly realized that the situation was grim.
Doctors concluded that the only option to liberate Omayra was to amputate both of her legs at the knees. However, no equipment was available to execute the required procedure.
Omayra remained confined for over 60 hours, submerged in water, her body gradually deteriorating due to the harsh weather conditions. Nevertheless, she maintained her cool manner. She interacted with a volunteer journalist, begging for sweets, singing, and even agreeing to an interview. But as the hours passed, panic set in.
She began hallucinating, talking about school and a math exam she believed she had failed. Her hands swelled, and her cheeks became crimson as the water rose. Nevertheless, she clung to life.
She was a brave girl.
“I don’t feel my body anymore,” she explained.
The famous image.
Omayra’s tale may have been different. Had the authorities followed the early warnings, they could have avoided Omayra’s fate and averted another tragedy. However, as the hours passed, it became difficult to save her.
Due to a lack of surgical tools required to amputate her legs and alleviate the pressure, the physicians on-site were forced to make the heartbreaking decision to let her die gently rather than subject her to more pain.
Frank Fournier, a French journalist, came just as Omayra’s life was about to end. Just a few days after the eruption, he flew into Bogotá and approached Armero, struck by the terrible calm and desolation.

“Hundreds of people were stuck everywhere. Rescuers were having trouble reaching them. I could hear people scream for aid, followed by an eerie calm,” he told the BBC two decades after the horrific accident. “It was very haunting.”
A farmer took him to Omayra, whose body had already begun to bulge. Fournier, struck by her calm fortitude and the suffering she experienced, took a snapshot—a moment frozen in time that would come to represent the situation’s hopelessness and the failure of those in authority.
Fournier subsequently acknowledged the image’s powerful impact, noting, “She was facing death with courage and dignity.”
Omayra Sanchez’s last remarks
At 9:45 a.m. on November 16th, Omayra Sánchez closed her eyes for the final time. Just two hours earlier, a rescuer had soothed her, saying, “Relax, sweetheart, we’ll get you out in a minute.” You’ll live a long life.” The water had reached her neck at that point, and coffee beans had knotted themselves in her hair.
Witnesses captured her final words, as the girl quietly whispered, “Mommy, I love you so much; Daddy, I love you, and Brother, I love you.”
Omayra’s brother escaped the lahars, but her father and aunt died. Her mother, María Aleida, survived the eruption and had been in Bogotá on a business trip prior.
“It is horrible, but we have to think about the living,” Aleida added, referring to survivors such as herself and her 12-year-old son, who lost a finger in the accident.
Why didn’t the photographer aid her?
Frank Fournier’s photograph of the incident, titled The Agony of Omayra Sánchez, became an iconic image, bringing international attention to the tragedy.
As the photograph circulated throughout the world, it sparked a whirlwind of controversy. Many, including the BBC, were appalled by the image’s raw intimacy, believing they had witnessed the final moments of a little girl’s life.
Critics accused Fournier of abusing Omayra’s agony, branding him a monster for capturing such an intimate shot. However, Fournier defended his choice, claiming that the photos had helped generate critical funding for the victims while also highlighting the country’s leadership’s irresponsible behavior.
Despite the controversy, the shot won the coveted World Press Photo of the Year award in 1986. It captivated the world’s attention and shed light on the horrors of the Armero tragedy.
As the photo traveled globally, several people wondered why Frank hadn’t tried to save Omayra from the lahar. He told the BBC that, given the grave circumstances, rescue was just impossible. “There was a huge outcry—television debates on whether photojournalists are vultures,” Fournier lamented.
However, I felt that the story merited sharing, and the response brought me relief.
Remembered in several ways.
The portrait of Omayra Sánchez in her closing moments has an obvious effect. Manuel Martín Benitos, a family friend, aimed to transform the young girl’s heartbreaking death into a symbol of success.
In 1986, he founded the International Foundation Omayra Sánchez, intending to build a global network of teams committed to averting similar calamities and assisting victims of terrible occurrences.
Periodicals such as El Tiempo have commemorated Sánchez in a variety of ways in the years since the eruption. Despite memorializing many of the disaster’s victims, Sánchez’s narrative continues to inspire songs, books, and music that honor her legacy.
Armero today.
In order to avert future catastrophes, the Colombian government established the Oficina Nacional para la Atención de Desastres (National Office for Disaster Preparedness), which is now known as the Dirección de Prevención y Atención de Desastres. All Colombian cities were required to create disaster contingency plans as part of these efforts.
In a touching memorial to Sánchez, a species of cricket discovered near the Armero tragedy was named Gigagryllus omayrae in her honor, ensuring that her legacy lives on in both human and natural history.
Although the volcano Nevado del Ruiz is still active, the city of Armero no longer exists. Today, the place serves as a memorial, with Christian crosses and a tiny plaque honoring Sánchez’s memory.
Omayra’s name has endured in the hearts of those who witnessed her agony, representing the innocence lost in an inexplicable calamity.
Her narrative remains a heartbreaking memory for those who witnessed her final moments.