Mexico City, October 14, 2025 – The death toll from severe floods and landslides triggered by relentless heavy rains across central and eastern Mexico has surged to at least 64, with 65 people still missing, according to the latest update from Mexico's National Civil Protection Coordination (CNPC). The tragedy, fueled by the remnants of Tropical Storms Priscilla and Raymond, has left communities reeling, with over 100,000 homes damaged or destroyed and more than 250,000 residents impacted in what authorities are calling one of the nation's worst natural disasters in recent memory.
In a somber morning briefing at the National Palace, President Claudia Sheinbaum confirmed the grim figures and vowed an all-out government response. "We will put our whole heart into the recovery efforts and in supporting those affected by this tragedy," she said, her voice steady but laced with the weight of the crisis. Sheinbaum, who assumed office just months ago as Mexico's first female president, announced the deployment of additional emergency teams to the hardest-hit states: Veracruz, Hidalgo, Puebla, Querétaro, and San Luis Potosí. These reinforcements are tasked with accelerating the delivery of critical supplies—clothing, hygiene kits, potable water, non-perishable food, and medical aid—to isolated villages still cut off by mudslides and swollen rivers.
The CNPC's statement detailed how the casualty count rose sharply overnight, increasing by 17 from Sunday's tally of 47. In Veracruz, the epicenter of the disaster, 29 people have been confirmed dead and 18 remain unaccounted for, many swept away when the Cazones River burst its banks on October 10. Hidalgo reports 21 fatalities and 43 missing, while Puebla has seen 13 deaths. A single child perished in a landslide in Querétaro, and isolated incidents in San Luis Potosí have added to the toll. "The scale is still unfolding," said Laura Velázquez, head of civil defense, emphasizing that search teams are racing against time to access remote areas where communication lines are down and roads are obliterated.
Meteorologists attribute the deluge to a rare meteorological convergence: the lingering moisture from Tropical Storm Priscilla, which dissipated after making landfall as a weakened hurricane earlier in the week, combined with Tropical Storm Raymond's northward push along the Pacific coast. From October 6 to 9, parts of Veracruz alone received up to 62.7 centimeters (24.7 inches) of rain—equivalent to several months' worth in just days—causing rivers to overflow and triggering landslides on deforested hillsides saturated from months of above-average precipitation. Admiral Raymundo Morales, Mexico's Navy Secretary, described the event as unprecedented: "Warm and cold air fronts collided over already brimming rivers and weakened mountains, creating a perfect storm beyond any forecast."
In the oil-rich town of Poza Rica, Veracruz—a community of about 80,000 nestled near the Gulf Coast—the floods struck with ferocious speed. Lilia Ramírez, a 52-year-old mother of three, recounted the terror to reporters as she sifted through the oily sludge coating her home's ruins. "Fifteen minutes before the water hit, I heard the roar—like a freight train. Cars were crashing together, floating like toys. I grabbed my kids and ran, but everything else... gone." Her neighborhood, built on low-lying floodplains near the Cazones River, saw water levels surge to over 12 feet (3.7 meters), leaving behind not just mud but a toxic residue from nearby petroleum facilities. Cleanup crews, including volunteers from the renowned "Topos" rescue brigade, are now battling this oily contamination, which poses additional health risks like skin irritations and respiratory issues.
Across the affected regions, the human cost is etched in heartbreaking vignettes. In Hidalgo's Tulancingo municipality, National Guard members used life rafts to evacuate families from waist-deep waters, while in Puebla's Huauchinango, soldiers trudged through debris to reach a school turned temporary shelter for 200 displaced residents. One anonymous survivor, a farmer from San Luis Potosí, shared via social media: "Our fields are buried under mud. We've lost crops that would've fed us for a year. How do we rebuild when the earth itself betrays us?" Power outages have plagued over 320,000 households nationwide, with downed lines and submerged transformers delaying restoration efforts.
The infrastructure toll is staggering. More than 50,000 homes—many modest adobe structures in rural villages—have been partially or fully destroyed, forcing thousands into makeshift shelters. Highways and bridges, vital for commerce in these agricultural heartlands, lie in ruins; the Transportation Department reported 132 disruptions on federal roads, though only two major blockages remain as of Monday. Landslides have isolated over 300 communities, prompting the establishment of "air bridges" via military helicopters to airlift supplies. President Sheinbaum, drawing parallels to her administration's post-Hurricane Otis recovery in Acapulco last year, instructed immediate infrastructure reinforcements: dredging rivers, erecting embankments, rebuilding spans, and elevating pumping stations to mitigate future floods.
Health officials are on high alert for secondary crises. Stagnant floodwaters breed mosquitoes, raising fears of dengue outbreaks—Mexico reported over 35,000 cases this year alone. Fumigation teams have begun spraying in Veracruz and Hidalgo, while mobile clinics distribute antibiotics and antimalarials. "We're not just fighting the water; we're fighting what comes after," said a CNPC spokesperson. Environmental experts warn that the floods have also unleashed pollutants into waterways, contaminating drinking sources and endangering aquatic life in the Gulf of Mexico.
This disaster unfolds against a backdrop of Mexico's increasingly volatile climate. The country has endured record-breaking rains throughout 2025, including a deluge in Mexico City that shattered annual precipitation marks. Scientists link these extremes to La Niña, the Pacific cooling pattern that amplifies hurricane activity and heavy downpours by altering global weather currents. "Warm air holds more moisture, and as global temperatures rise, these events become more intense," notes a recent study from the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). Yet, political debates simmer: Opposition leaders, including voices on X (formerly Twitter), decry the dissolution of the Natural Disaster Fund (Fonden) under former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador, arguing it has left the nation ill-equipped for such crises. Sheinbaum has countered by promising a comprehensive census of victims to ensure targeted aid, rejecting calls to reinstate the fund amid corruption allegations from its past.
On the ground, resilience shines through the rubble. In Puebla, community leaders organized local kitchens serving hot meals to evacuees, while in Querétaro, youth volunteers cleared debris from schools. International aid is trickling in: The United Nations has pledged $2 million for emergency kits, and the U.S. Embassy issued alerts for citizens in affected areas, coordinating with FEMA for potential cross-border support. Sheinbaum's administration, deploying over 5,400 troops and private contractors, emphasizes a "whole-of-government" approach, with daily briefings to maintain transparency.
As search operations expand into hard-to-reach zones—using drones and sniffer dogs for the missing—the nation holds its breath. Families light candles in makeshift memorials, whispering prayers for loved ones lost to the floods. "This is our reality now," said Ramírez, wiping mud from a salv to a salvaged photo of her children. "But we'll rise again, like the rivers themselves." With forecasts predicting lingering showers into mid-week, the focus shifts from rescue to reconstruction, a monumental task for a country tested yet unbroken.
The floods' ripple effects extend beyond borders. Tropical moisture from Priscilla and Raymond has already sparked flash flood warnings in the U.S. Southwest, with Arizona and New Mexico bracing for 4-8 inches of rain that could exacerbate arid soils into mudslides. In Mexico In Mexico, economists estimate damages could top $1.5 billion, hitting agriculture—corn and coffee fields are underwater—and tourism in coastal Veracruz.
President Sheinbaum's visit to flood zones on Sunday underscored her commitment. Wading through knee-deep muck in La Ceiba, Veracruz, she hugged tearful residents and inspected a collapsed bridge. "Reopening roads is our greatest urgency," she declared, ordering 24/7 engineering crews. Back in the capital, her team coordinates with state governors, allocating federal funds for temporary housing and crop replanting subsidies.
Eyewitness accounts paint a vivid portrait of survival. In Hidalgo, a group of neighbors broke concrete slabs with picks to recover a neighbor's body, their sobs echoing over the roar of generators. Videos shared on X show dogs clinging to fences amid rising waters, pets rescued by brave locals. One viral clip from Puebla captures a child waving at a helicopter dropping water bottles, a symbol of hope amid despair.
As night falls, the hum of helicopters and the splash of cleanup crews fill the air. Mexico, a land shaped by earthquakes and tempests, faces yet another trial. But in the faces of its people—fierce, communal, unyielding—lies the promise of dawn. The floods may recede, but the spirit endures.
