Major Earthquake Rattles Düzce, Exposing Fault Lines in Infrastructure
Western Turkey woke up in the early hours of November 23, 2022, to a magnitude 6.1 earthquake that sent shockwaves not just through buildings, but through thousands of households across the region. The tremor struck at 1:08 a.m. local time near Düzce, a city etched in memory for its history of seismic disasters. According to the United States Geological Survey (USGS), the quake’s focus was shallow—just 10.6 kilometers beneath the surface—making it especially intense for those near the epicenter. Turkish authorities registered the magnitude at slightly lower, between 5.9 and 6.0, but to residents jolted from their sleep, it hardly mattered.
Panic rippled through Düzce, Sakarya, Bolu, and outlying provinces. Buildings shook violently enough that some people in Bolu leapt from balconies in terror. Streets quickly filled with residents wrapped in blankets, their faces lit by phone screens as they tried to get news and contact loved ones.
Casualties, Injuries, and a Reminder of the Past
The human toll was lower than past disasters, but the quake still left a deep scar. Official figures confirmed two lives lost—not to direct structural collapse but still linked to the chaos. One person suffered a fatal heart attack, and another died during the scramble to evacuate. Hospitals treated at least 93 people for injuries, with Düzce, Sakarya, and Bolu seeing the highest numbers of those hurt. Most wounds resulted from people trying to flee buildings in the dark, several sustaining broken bones from falls.
The material damage, however, was much more widespread. Over 2,500 buildings bore the scars of the shaking, and at least 369 structures partially collapsed. The built environment of Düzce is a patchwork, with newer buildings sitting alongside older constructs that predate modern standards. After the catastrophic 1999 earthquakes, Turkey enforced tougher seismic building codes, resulting in nearly 80% of buildings being upgraded or retrofitted over the past two decades. This modernization meant thousands avoided serious injury, but the quake brutally exposed pockets where retrofitting had lagged. Buildings that hadn’t been strengthened fared much worse, with significant damage reported in remote neighborhoods and older city blocks.
The power grid suffered too. Outages rolled through several districts, adding to the confusion and panic in already tense streets. Crews scrambled to restore electricity as emergency responders checked damaged high-rises and rural houses alike.
The shaking wasn’t just local. People as far as Istanbul, Ankara, and Edirne reported feeling the quake, with social media lighting up as worried residents from across western Turkey described swaying furniture and trembling floors.
The quake’s location near the Karadere Fault—one strand of the notorious North Anatolian Fault—put seismologists on edge. The area sits exactly where the 1999 Izmit and Düzce disasters killed thousands. Focal mechanism studies suggested the quake involved either right-lateral or left-lateral strike-slip action, typical for this restless slice of Turkey’s geology.
Adding a strange twist, the quake struck just days after Turkey’s annual nationwide earthquake drill. Residents had been reminded only recently of the importance of preparedness, echoing the lessons learned from 1999. But drills are one thing, and the panic of the real thing is another. As scientists continue to monitor aftershocks and inspect the region’s shifting crust, families are left weighing their safety in buildings that tell two different stories: one of modern resilience, the other of vulnerability still unhealed.
