Flames swallowed the hill before anyone understood what was happening.

Families ran with nothing but the clothes on their backs, watching entire lives burn in minutes.

Panic, explosions, and screams echoed through Pamplona Alta as the sky turned black over Lima.

By the time the fire trucks fought their way up the narrow, crowded streets of

Pamplona Alta, the neighborhood was already transformed into a corridor of smoke and twisted metal.

Mothers clutched children, neighbors shouted names into the chaos, and the crackle of burning wood mixed with the sharp bangs from the suspected fireworks workshop.

For many, there was no time to save documents, furniture, or memories; the fire moved faster than any plan, fed by precarious homes built from plywood, tin, and cardboard.

Now, as dawn breaks over San Juan de Miraflores, the flames are mostly contained, but the true damage is only beginning to be understood.

Hundreds are suddenly homeless, staring at the ashes where their houses once stood.

Authorities are promising investigations and aid, but residents know rebuilding will be slow.

What they need most, urgently, is shelter, food, and the certainty that this tragedy will not be ignored.