AHMEDABAD, India: Grieving families were due to hold funerals in India on Sunday for their relatives who were among at least 279 killed in one of the world’s worst plane crashes in decades.
Health officials have begun handing over the first passenger bodies identified through DNA testing, delivering them in white coffins in the western city of Ahmedabad.
“My heart is very heavy, how do we give the bodies to the families?” said Tushar Leuva, an NGO worker who has been helping with the recovery efforts.
There was just one survivor out of 242 passengers and crew on board the Air India jet when it crashed Thursday into a residential area of Ahmedabad, killing at least 38 people on the ground.
“How will they react when they open the gate? But we’ll have to do it,” Leuva said at the mortuary on Saturday.
One victim’s relative who did not want to be named said they had been instructed not to open the coffin when they receive it.
Witnesses reported seeing badly burnt bodies and scattered remains.
The Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner erupted into a fireball when it went down moments after takeoff, smashing into buildings used by medical staff.
Mourning relatives have been providing DNA samples to be matched with passengers, with 31 identified as of Sunday morning.
“This is a meticulous and slow process, so it has to be done meticulously only,” Rajnish Patel, a doctor at Ahmedabad’s civil hospital, said late Saturday.
The majority of those injured on the ground have been discharged, he added, with one or two remaining in critical care.
Indian authorities are yet to detail the cause of the disaster and have ordered inspections of Air India’s Dreamliners.
Aviation Minister Ram Mohan Naidu Kinjarapu said Saturday he hoped decoding the recovered black box, or flight data recorder, would “give an in-depth insight” into what went wrong.
Just one person miraculously escaped the wreckage, British citizen Vishwash Kumar Ramesh, whose brother was also on the flight.
Air India said there were 169 Indian passengers, 53 British, seven Portuguese and a Canadian on board the flight, as well as 12 crew members.
Among the passengers was a father of two young girls, Arjun Patoliya, who had traveled to India to scatter his wife’s ashes following her death weeks earlier.
“I really hope that those girls will be looked after by all of us,” said Anjana Patel, the mayor of London’s Harrow borough where some of the victims lived.
“We don’t have any words to describe how the families and friends must be feeling,” she added.
While communities were in mourning, one woman recounted how she survived only by arriving late at the airport.
“The airline staff had already closed the check-in,” said 28-year-old Bhoomi Chauhan.
“At that moment, I kept thinking that if only we had left a little earlier, we wouldn’t have missed our flight,” she told the Press Trust of India news agency.

PORT-AU-PRINCE: Not one suspect imprisoned in Haiti has faced trial after being charged in the killing of President Jovenel Moïse, who was gunned down at his home in the nation’s capital nearly four years ago.
Gang violence, death threats and a crumbling judicial system have stalled an ongoing investigation defined by outbursts and tense exchanges between suspects and judges.
“You failed in your mission. And you are not ashamed to declare yourself innocent,” Judge Claude Jean said in a booming voice as he stood and faced a Haitian policeman responsible for protecting the president, who was shot 12 times in Port-au-Prince on July 7, 2021.
Jean is one of six Haitian judges investigating whether there is enough evidence to warrant a trial for the 20 suspects held in the troubled Caribbean country. Authorities said some of the suspects envisioned a coup, not an assassination, leading to lucrative contracts under a new administration.
The suspects include 17 former soldiers from Colombia and three Haitian officials: an ex-mayor, a former policeman and a former Haiti Ministry of Justice employee who worked on an anti-corruption unit. Missing are several key Haitian suspects who escaped last year after a powerful gang federation raided Haiti’s two biggest prisons, including Dimitri Hérard, ex-head of security at Haiti’s National Palace.
Three other suspects, all Colombians, were killed hours after Moïse was slain, while a key suspect in the case, Haitian Superior Court Judge Windelle Coq Thélot, died in January while still a fugitive.
Courthouse under siege
The investigation was repeatedly halted by the resignation of judges who feared for their lives. Defense attorneys then appealed after the court ruled there was sufficient evidence for trial. Jean and five other judges are now tasked with restarting the inquiry. But determining complicity among 51 suspects is only one of numerous challenges.
Last year, powerful gangs seized control of the downtown Port-au-Prince courthouse where the judges were interrogating suspects. The hearings were suspended until the government rented a home in Pacot, a neighborhood once considered safe enough for the French embassy. But gangs controlling 85 percent of Haiti’s capital recently attacked and forced the government to move again.
The hearings restarted in May, this time in a private home in Pétion-Ville, a community trying to defend itself from gangs seeking full control of Port-au-Prince.
‘Nothing we could do’
As a fan swirled lazily in the background, Judge Phemond Damicy grilled Ronald Guerrier in late May.
One of several police officers tasked with protecting the president, Guerrier insisted he never entered Moïse’s home and couldn’t fight the intruders because he was dazed by a stun grenade.
“The attackers were dressed all in black. They wore balaclavas and blinded us with their flashlights. I couldn’t identify anyone,” Guerrier testified, adding they used a megaphone to claim they were US Drug Enforcement Administration agents. “The attackers operated as if they were entering their own home. It seemed they knew the place perfectly.”
Damicy asked if they shot at drones that Guerrier said were buzzing above the president’s home.
“The attackers covered the entire area with their fire,” Guerrier replied. “There was nothing we could do.”
Damicy grew exasperated. “Under no circumstances should an enemy cross you with impunity to commit his crime,” he said. “In your place, I would fire on the enemy. I would even die, if necessary.”
‘I don’t know’
Inside the investigation’s heavily guarded, stone-and-concrete headquarters in a leafy residential community, raised voices have dominated tense interrogations.
One judge stood and thundered a question about a gun: “On the day of the death of President Jovenel Moïse, were you in possession of a Galil?”
In another outburst in March, a judge repeatedly pressed Joseph Badio, the former Ministry of Justice official who spent two years on the run, about his call to former Prime Minister Ariel Henry after the assassination. At the time, Henry had only been nominated as prime minister by Moïse.
“You can say whatever you want with your mouth,” Badio told the judge, who ordered him to sit as he rose while speaking. “There is no prohibition for me to communicate with anyone I want.”
The tension has carried over into interrogations of the Colombian suspects, who maintain they were hired by a Miami-based security firm to provide security for power and water treatment plants and diplomatic officials, as well as train Haitian police and soldiers.
The Colombians have denied involvement, while their attorney, Nathalie Delisca, said there has been no presumption of innocence during the interrogations.
“The treatment inflicted on the detainees was inhumane,” she said, alleging mistreatment by authorities after their arrest.
The former soldiers said they were beaten, threatened with death, forced to sign documents in a language they don’t understand and barred from communicating with their lawyers and families for long stretches.
“I have been subjected to degrading treatment. I have been subjected to physical and psychological torture,” Jheyner Alberto Carmona Flores said during a recent hearing.
He spoke Spanish in a clear and loud voice, sometimes correcting an interpreter translating his testimony into French.
“I have no involvement because I don’t know when or where the president was assassinated,” Carmona Flores said, claiming he was summoned to provide security at the perimeter of Moïse’s house and did not know the president had been fatally shot.
Working under threat
While the case in Haiti has stalled, the US has charged 11 extradited suspects, with five already pleading guilty to conspiring to kill Moïse.
Five other suspects are awaiting trial, which is now scheduled for March 2026.
They include Anthony “Tony” Intriago, owner of Miami-based CTU Security, and Haitian-Americans James Solages, a key suspect, and Christian Emmanuel Sanon, a pastor, doctor and failed businessman who envisioned himself as Haiti’s new leader.
Moïse’s widow, Martine Moïse, is expected to testify in the US case. She was injured in the attack and accused by a Haitian judge of complicity and criminal association, which her attorneys deny.
Court documents say the plan was to detain Jovenel Moïse and whisk him away, but changed after the suspects failed to find a plane or sufficient weapons. A day before Moïse died, Solages falsely told other suspects it was a CIA operation and the mission was to kill the president, the documents allege.
Bruner Ulysse, a lawyer and history professor in Haiti, lamented how the local investigation has highlighted what he called “profound challenges” in Haiti’s judicial system.
“While international efforts have yielded some results, the quest for justice in Haiti remains elusive,” Ulysse said. “Judges, prosecutors and lawyers operate under constant threat.”