Imagine entire communities reduced to ashes, families displaced, and livelihoods shattered—this is the grim reality for those in central and northern Victoria, where bushfires have left an indelible mark. But here’s where it gets even more heartbreaking: even as the flames subside, the emotional scars run deep, and the need for trauma support is more urgent than ever. Yet, this critical aspect of recovery is often overlooked.
As of January 18, 2026, residents in these fire-ravaged areas are bracing for a long road ahead, with local volunteers warning that emergency relief efforts may be needed for another two months. The Longwood fire, which ignited on January 7, has already scorched 136,000 hectares, claimed countless livestock, and obliterated at least 173 homes and 442 outbuildings. While the fire no longer poses an immediate threat, watch-and-act warnings remain in place, a stark reminder of the devastation that persists. And this is just the beginning of their struggle.
Volunteers and donors have been the backbone of the recovery, working tirelessly to provide essentials like groceries, meals, and even temporary showers and toilets for those who’ve lost everything. They’re also distributing hay and fodder to prevent surviving livestock from starving and assisting with applications for financial recovery grants. At the Highlands Community Hall, just north of Yea, coordinator Andrea Bauer has been working non-stop for days, ensuring supplies reach those cut off by road closures. But here’s where it gets controversial: while the material needs are being met, the emotional and psychological toll on survivors is being largely ignored.
‘What I’m looking for is some welfare services, people talking to people,’ Bauer said, her voice heavy with concern. ‘When you see people come in here, that look on their faces—almost like they’re not there.’ Despite her best efforts, she admits it’s impossible to address the trauma while managing everything else. The Murrindindi Shire council has offered limited support, but is it enough? And this is the part most people miss: the emotional aftermath of such disasters can last years, if not addressed properly.
In Alexandra, near the southeastern edge of the fire zone, stock agent Andrew Embling is coordinating a pop-up distribution center for hay and animal feed, ensuring livestock in burnt areas don’t starve. Donations are pouring in from as far as Wagga Wagga, NSW, with 30 trucks arriving daily. Yet, even this impressive response raises a question: Are we doing enough to address the unseen wounds?
As we applaud the generosity of donors and the dedication of volunteers, let’s not forget the silent sufferers—those whose trauma isn’t visible but is just as real. Here’s a thought-provoking question for you: In our rush to rebuild homes and livelihoods, are we neglecting the hearts and minds of those who’ve lost everything? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s start a conversation that could change how we approach disaster recovery.
