Anger and despair as Erdoğan's pledges are scrutinised

A mid a wasteland strewn with bricks and iron and a city reeling from unfathomable loss, a lone new building stands unscathed.

- Martin Chulov and Ruth Michaelson

The European cultural centre at the heart of Adıyaman looks like a place that the earthquake bypassed; the thumps of nearby diggers echo from its robust walls and the images of passing rescuers are reflected in its pristine glass facade.

The centre is considered by some as a monument to survival that somehow endured a disaster that destroyed almost everything around it. But to many others, it's a sign of what should have been for the rest of a ruined city.

Shock and despair following the devastation that hit south-eastern Turkey and Syria earlier this month is slowly being subsumed by a search for answers. First among the questions is how an estimated 85,000 buildings in the earthquake zone could have collapsed, or been severely damaged, killing 47,000 people and maiming tens of thousands more.

Homes in Adıyaman collapsed like houses of cards, large tracts of the urban landscape now heaps where 12-storey buildings once stood. The city is now all but uninhabitable.