At the Nurdağı cemetery in the Turkish province of Gaziantep, on the Syrian border, there will soon be no more room for the dead. The freshly dug graves are marked with blank headstones, with only pieces of ripped cloth gathered from the victims’ clothing to identify them. The frayed ends of the cloth blow slightly in the frigid air.
On the street outside, dozens of bodies lie piled on top of each other on a row of pickup trucks, waiting to be buried. At least five imams have rushed to Nurdağı to officiate a ceaseless rush of mass funerals, sometimes for as many as 10 victims at once. Officials brought in deliveries of coffins from neighbouring villages and as far as Istanbul to provide a final resting place for the overwhelming numbers of corpses arriving in the town.
