Ten years asking for what was promised, now a roof falls on their children
En un colegio del distrito de Cayma, en Arequipa, el techo metálico de un aula prefabricada cedió sin aviso durante el recreo, cuando la mayoría de los 27 alumnos de quinto grado estaba en el patio. Nadie resultó herido, pero el accidente no fue un hecho aislado: es la expresión visible de una década de promesas incumplidas y papeles aprobados que nunca se convirtieron en muros ni techos permanentes. Lo que salvó a los niños ese día no fue la solidez de sus instalaciones, sino el azar del horario escolar.
- El techo metálico de un aula prefabricada en el colegio Mi Divino Niño Jesús colapsó sin previo aviso, y solo el recreo evitó que 27 niños quedaran atrapados bajo los escombros.
- Los pocos estudiantes que permanecían dentro comiendo lograron escapar antes de que la estructura cediera por completo, convirtiendo lo que pudo ser una tragedia en un llamado de alerta urgente.
- Los padres de familia, entre el alivio y la indignación, denunciaron que llevan diez años exigiendo la construcción de instalaciones permanentes prometidas por el gobierno regional, con terreno aprobado y expediente listo pero sin avance.
- Autoridades municipales de Cayma y representantes de la Unidad de Gestión Educativa llegaron a evaluar los daños, pero su presencia no resuelve la crisis estructural que subyace al colapso.
- Los niños regresarán a las mismas aulas provisionales mientras el expediente expedito sigue durmiendo en manos burocráticas, y la pregunta que queda en el aire es cuánto tiempo más puede sostenerse lo que ya no se sostiene.
En el sector 12 de Enace, en el distrito arequipeño de Cayma, un techo metálico se desplomó sobre un aula de quinto grado del colegio Mi Divino Niño Jesús. Los 27 alumnos se salvaron porque era hora de recreo y la mayoría estaba en el patio. Quienes habían permanecido adentro para comer escucharon el estruendo y alcanzaron a salir antes de que la estructura terminara de colapsar.
El aula derrumbada no es una anomalía, sino el síntoma más reciente de un problema que los padres de familia llevan una década denunciando. El colegio no cuenta con edificio permanente para el nivel primario: funciona en módulos prefabricados concebidos como solución temporal, no definitiva. El gobierno regional de Arequipa aprobó hace años el terreno para construir instalaciones propias para primaria y secundaria. El expediente está completo y fue declarado de trámite preferente. Aun así, no se ha colocado un solo ladrillo.
Tras el colapso, las madres y los padres se reunieron con una mezcla de alivio y rabia contenida. Paula Gómez resumió lo que muchos sienten: diez años de solicitudes, de terreno designado, de papeles en regla, y nada construido. Ahora, con el techo de sus hijos en el suelo, volvieron a exigir que las autoridades cumplan lo prometido.
Funcionarios de la municipalidad de Cayma y de la autoridad educativa zonal acudieron a evaluar los daños y retirar los escombros. La emergencia inmediata quedó contenida. Pero la emergencia de fondo —la que se ha ido acumulando durante diez años— sigue intacta. Mañana, los niños volverán a las mismas estructuras provisionales, bajo techos que el tiempo y el abandono han ido debilitando, esperando que el Estado cumpla una promesa que todavía no tiene fecha.
Twenty-seven students at Mi Divino Niño Jesús school in Cayma, a district of Arequipa, walked away from what could have been a catastrophe on an ordinary school day. The metal roof of their prefabricated fifth-grade classroom simply gave way, collapsing inward without warning. The timing alone saved them. Most of the children were outside in the schoolyard during recess when the structure failed. A handful of students who had stayed inside to eat heard the crash and ran for the exits, escaping before the full weight of the metal came down.
The school sits in sector 12 of Enace, a neighborhood where families have been fighting for basic infrastructure for a decade. The collapsed classroom is a symptom of a larger wound—the school has no permanent primary-level building. What exists are temporary prefabricated units, the kind meant to be stopgaps, not permanent solutions. The regional government of Arequipa approved the land for a proper primary and secondary facility years ago. The paperwork is complete. The expedited file sits in bureaucratic hands. Nothing has been built.
Parents gathered after the collapse, their relief mixed with fury. One mother spoke for many when she said the children had narrowly escaped being crushed, and that if recess had not been happening, the outcome would have been unthinkable. She and others have spent years petitioning the Regional Government of Arequipa for the promised construction. The requests have been ignored. Paula Gómez, another parent, was direct about the abandonment: they have been asking for a proper primary level for ten years. The expedited paperwork, the designated land—none of it has moved forward. Now, after a roof collapsed on their children, she called again for the authorities to act.
Municipal officials from Cayma and representatives from the Northern Education Authority arrived to assess the damage and clear the debris. The immediate crisis was contained. No students were injured. But the larger crisis—the one that has been building for a decade—remains unresolved. A prefabricated classroom with a metal roof that could not hold itself up is what passes for a school building in this district. The children are safe today because they were outside. Tomorrow, they will return to the same temporary structures, the same neglected facilities, waiting for a government that has not yet delivered what it promised.
Citações Notáveis
The children narrowly escaped being crushed; if recess had not been happening, it would have been a tragedy— Parent at Mi Divino Niño Jesús school
We have been asking for our primary level for ten years. Now more than ever we need the authorities to act— Paula Gómez, parent
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did the roof collapse now, after however long it's been standing?
The source doesn't say. It could be age, poor maintenance, weather, structural defect from the start. What matters is that it was a prefab unit—temporary by design—being used as a permanent classroom.
And the parents have been asking for a real building for ten years?
Yes. Ten years of petitions. The land is approved, the paperwork is expedited and sitting with the regional government. But nothing has been built. This collapse is what happens when temporary becomes permanent through neglect.
How many children were actually in the room when it fell?
A small group. Most were outside at recess. That's the only reason we're not talking about casualties. The timing was everything.
What happens now? Do they rebuild the prefab, or does this finally force action on the permanent facility?
The source doesn't say. Officials came to assess and clean up. But the real question—whether this becomes the moment that breaks the bureaucratic logjam—that's still open.
The parents sound exhausted.
They do. Ten years of asking, and it takes a roof collapsing on their children's heads to get attention. That's the weight beneath the story.