Collapse: CTV building disaster a tragedy felt around the world

Friday, 12 February 2021

People whose lives changed due to their involvement in the CTV building collapse during the February 2011 earthquake recount their stories.

The loss of 115 lives when Christchurch’s CTV building collapsed in the February 2011 earthquake was felt not just in New Zealand, but around the world. MARC GREENHILL reports.

Jessie Redoble and Ezra Medalle’s arrival in Christchurch in 2011 should have been the start of an exciting new chapter in their young lives.

The couple, both from the Philippines, were planning to study English so they could become qualified nurses in New Zealand.

Two days later, they were dead.

Jessie Redoble, left, and partner Ezra Medalle were nurses from the Philippines planning to study English in Christchurch.

* Ten years of injustice: the long, hard road taken by the CTV Families Group

* Christchurch quake memorial reminds man who lost father to 'make him proud'

* CTV families claim prosecution decision based on incomplete information, urge Govt to reconsider

Divinia and Tony Leitch were the last people to speak with Jessie Redoble and Ezra Medalle while they were trapped in the rubble.

At 12.51pm on February 22, a six-storey central city office block pancaked under the force of the magnitude 6.2 earthquake. More than half the victims were born overseas.

Redoble and Medalle were among 64 foreign students killed in the King’s Education English language school on the fourth level – 28 from Japan, 17 from China, 10 from the Philippines, six from Thailand, two from South Korea and one from Taiwan.

Other victims included long-time Christchurch residents born in Peru, Turkey, Malaysia, Romania, Russia, Spain and the United Kingdom. There was also Serbian-born Tamara Cvetanova, a student at King’s Education, and Iraqi-born doctors Husam Al-Ani and Maysoon Abbas, who worked at The Clinic on level five.

Redoble, 30, and Medalle, 24, both survived the initial collapse, but died before they could be rescued. At least six other people lost their lives the same way.

In the aftermath, police pieced together cellphone traffic in and out of the rubble. The efforts of rescuers came under intense scrutiny and a key question emerged – why weren’t those eight lives saved?

Redoble and Medalle were staying in a hostel, but had family in Christchurch. Medalle’s cousin Divinia Leitch, who she called “aunty”, and husband Tony were their de facto hosts.

The CTV building was under-engineered and lacked sufficient strength. These problems were exacerbated during construction, but the root cause lay in the design. It has been suggested the problem in Miami appears to be construction not following design.

They had lunch with the Leitches on Sunday – the day before their first class – and made plans for trips to take when they settled in.

Divinia Leitch recalls their excitement, despite missing family back home.

“Ezra texts me, ‘Aunty, I'm happy we are here in Christchurch’. I said, ‘oh, that's good’. And Jessie text me, ‘Aunty Divine, you and Tony like second parents’.”

She next heard from them on February 22 – their second day of school. About 1pm, Redoble sent a two-word text: “Aunty, earthquake.”

Alec Cvetanov, whose Serbian-born wife Tamara died in the collapsed CTV building, lays a wreath during the memorial service marking the second anniversary of the quake in 2013. Pictured right is the father of Japanese victim Rika Hyuga.

Leitch asked where he was. “Inside in school,” he replied.

She asked about Medalle: “The same, beside me.”

Leitch then asked if there was a window or door they could escape through. “He said, ‘no window and the door is like black … collapse’. And I said, ‘oh my god’.”

More texts followed as Leitch desperately tried to establish how serious the situation was.

Then a call came through. It was Medalle, confirming they were trapped deep in the rubble. She begged for help.

“She cried and she said, ‘I'm inside’ … and Jessie cried also,” Leitch says.

Divinia Leitch was at work in the city’s western suburbs. Tony Leitch had been at home, sleeping after his night shift.

She wanted to head into town, but her husband knew there was nothing they could do. They waited at home for news and kept the couple’s overseas family updated.

In their final call, Medalle told Divinia Leitch she and Redoble were struggling to breathe due to smoke from a worsening fire.

The last anyone heard from Redoble and Medalle was a text message, sent from the phone of Japanese nurse Rika Hyuga about two hours after the quake: “Madras St, kings education. WE NEED HELP! Please. This is Ezra and Jessie.”

‘Ma, I got buried’

Louise Amantillo, a 23-year-old Filipina nurse, made 10 phone calls and sent 32 text messages after the collapse.

Louise Amantillo, a 23-year-old Filipina nurse, was the first to sound the alarm.

Starting four minutes after the earthquake, she made 10 phone calls and sent 32 text messages.

Amantillo’s first message said: “Ma, I got buried.” Then, 40 minutes later: “Ma, I can't move my right hand.”

She last made contact just before 4pm.

Amantillo told her mum her arm was pinned and she was in pain. She could hear noises above, possibly rescuers.

“During the period that she was texting we were very hopeful because she was able to give her location,” sister Anne Amantillo recalls.

“But when the messages stopped that’s when we hoped against hope that she was still OK, and her mobile phone had just died.”

It wasn’t to be.

Ten years on, Louise Amantillo’s final words are a mixed blessing for the family.

Anne Amantillo says her mother still has the low-tech cellphone they were sent to. She doesn’t use it, but reads the messages from time to time.

“I think she endures the pain just to feel that connection again.”

Her sister’s suffering is hard for her to bear.

Urban search and rescue teams from around the world joined in the recovery effort at CTV.

“I can't imagine lying there for several hours waiting, if I could be saved or not. I can just imagine the pain she's feeling.

“She's very strong, she's very brave … she tried to fight until the end.”

Louise Amantillo wanted to make New Zealand her home.

Her trip – just 11 days long when she died – was the longest she had been away without family.

She was adventurous and not afraid to try new things, Anne Amantillo says, but kept in regular contact.

“She was telling us how happy she was, sending us photos. She wanted us to go there and join her someday.”

Friend Valquin Bensurto, 24, travelled with Louise Amantillo. They were having lunch together in the King’s Education cafeteria when the quake hit.

Anne Amantillo, then 21, was in class at law school. Her phone had been buzzing with messages and calls, but she waited until the lunch break to check them.

A family friend called to ask if she had heard about the quake and said her sister could not be contacted. Anne Amantillo tried calling her too, but there was no answer.

“I had a sinking feeling then something happened to her.”

CTV Families Group spokesman Maan Alkaisi has been campaigning for accountability since his wife's death.

The family twice received false reports from Filipino media saying Louise Amantillo had been found alive. It took New Zealand authorities several days to confirm her body had been recovered.

After an “agonising” month, Anne Amantillo remembers the exact moment. She was at school, about to speak in front of the class. Her phone vibrated and she took a peek.

“My tears were just flowing down.”

The Amantillo family travelled to Christchurch for the quake’s fifth anniversary and wanted to attend this year’s commemorations, before Covid-19 shut the borders.

They prefer to celebrate her life on her birthday, rather than mark the date of her death.

“Even after so many years we still feel the pain of losing someone, especially in that way,” Anne Amantillo says.

“It happened so suddenly there were some things you wish you had settled, that you wish you had told Louise … but we weren't given that chance.”

Dr Maysoon Abbas was a doctor at The Clinic, on level 5 of the CTV building.

‘Maysoon does not deserve this’

Maan Alkaisi and his wife, Maysoon Abbas, moved to Christchurch in the early 1990s, eager to escape the conflict following them around the Middle East and North Africa.

The Gulf War had just ended and Iraq was a political hotbed. The highly educated couple weren’t technically allowed to leave the country.

Alkaisi, an engineering academic, was given dispensation to take up a position at a university in Algeria. But civil war broke out there too.

They moved to Jordan, where a neighbour showed them a brochure for New Zealand. It looked isolated, and they were hooked.

Alkaisi describes his wife – a GP working at The Clinic when she died – as the “glue of the family”. They have three adult daughters, Sarah, Marwa and Mariam.

Abbas was determined, strong, and very proud of herself and her job, he says. They were a tight-knit team.

“It was really hard for me to realise that I'm not going to see her again.”

When the quake hit, Alkaisi had no idea of the peril Abbas faced. He was working at the University of Canterbury, where the buildings remained intact. News of the devastation in the central city hadn’t yet filtered through.

Although calls to his wife’s phone went unanswered, he wasn’t concerned. Emergency dispatchers assured him she was likely helping the injured.

Alkaisi was already with youngest daughter Mariam – it was her first day of university. When they arrived home, a neighbour told him about the chaos in the city.

Concern intensified when Alkaisi turned on the TV after power was restored about 3pm. The first pictures were of the CTV sign, lying damaged on the street.

After further attempts to reach Abbas by phone, he and his daughter headed to CTV. It was a confronting scene.

“It was just rubble, dust. Immediately I said, ‘Maysoon does not deserve this’.

“She's a huge fighter, and she loses her life in this unfair way. That really triggered my pursuit for justice and accountability.”

Alkaisi held out hope Abbas was either already in hospital or trapped alive in a void in the debris. Early the next afternoon, officials told him the rescue effort had become a recovery.

A police officer called him at home exactly a week after the quake. They had found his wife’s body.

There were “mixed feelings”, he says.

“On one side, of course you don’t want to hear this news. You never want to hear this news. On the other side, at least you know what happened.”

In the years since, Alkaisi has tirelessly campaigned for action to be taken against the building’s engineer, David Harding, and his boss, Alan Reay.

A royal commission of inquiry found the building design was substandard. Harding was working beyond his competence, the commission said, and Reay should have been supervising his work.

Police investigated and determined manslaughter charges could be laid against both. However, they backed down after Crown Law questioned the strength of the case.

Alkaisi is unapologetic about his dogged pursuit, which is ongoing.

“Just imagine yourself with your best friend on a journey and something goes wrong with your best friend. Do you leave [them] and move on? Or do you want to find out what happened?

“You definitely don't leave your best friend and move on. That's not me, anyway.”

– Additional reporting by Michael Wright

Collapse is a six-part Stuff podcast about the CTV building collapse in the February 2011 earthquake in Christchurch. You can listen on Stuff, or via Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, or any other app using the RSS feed. Episodes will be released daily.