The bodies turn up on motorcycles, in the backs of cars or the load beds of pickup trucks: victims of a natural disaster that has shaken an already fragile nation to its core.

“[Yesterday], the entire street was packed with people arriving with deceased relatives,” said Camila Rodríguez, a psychology student who is offering emotional support to grieving families at the Bello Monte mortuary in Venezuela’s capital, Caracas.

At least 1,430 lives were lost when back-to-back earthquakes rattled the country’s Caribbean coast last Wednesday, toppling hundreds of buildings and leaving tens of thousands missing. Many of those fatal victims have ended up at Bello Monte, as have relatives of the dead, who gather there hoping to identify their loved ones.

One of those waiting outside the pastel yellow facility was Marjorie Cedeño, who lost her mother, father and brother to Venezuela’s worst earthquake event in more than 125 years. The trio were trapped beneath the rubble when their four-floor building, Residencias Obelisco, collapsed in Los Palos Grandes, an upmarket neighbourhood at the foot of the El Ávila mountain.

By 9pm on Friday, Cedeño had only managed to identify her brother, José Ruiz, 44, through a photograph shown to her by forensic police. Her mother, Zoila Cedeño, 72, who worked as the building’s superintendent, and her father, Jacinto Ruiz, 74, remain buried beneath the debris.

“When the earthquake started, my brother was just entering the building. We believe his instinct was to go inside and rescue my parents, who were still there. He had just come back from the beach with a friend, who also died,” said Cedeño, who believed another 25 people remained trapped in the building’s ruins.

“It’s horrible in there,” she said of the mortuary. “You can’t imagine how overwhelmed it is … This is something you wouldn’t wish on anyone. It’s an unimaginable tragedy.”

Another woman, Belkis Cedeño, no relation, had come to the swamped facility hoping to find her sister-in-law, 56-year-old María Elena Moreno, who had been a resident of La Guiara, the coastal region worst affected by the quakes.

“Their building was completely destroyed. A 10-storey building was reduced to the ground floor. They managed to pull her out early this morning. She was alone because her son had gone to the supermarket with his girlfriend,” Cedeño said.

Cedeño said she had heard that her relative was rescued alive at about 2am on Thursday. But a false tsunami alert that spread across social media triggered panic and she was left exposed outside. “When they finally transferred her to the hospital, she arrived dead,” Cedeño said.

Edgar Hernández, the former president of Venezuela’s National Funeral Homes Association, said undertakers across the country had donated more than 200 coffins, body bags and other supplies, while supporting colleagues responding to the disaster. “Many people have recovered bodies and transported them in their private vehicles to Bello Monte because it’s less congested and easier to access than the … mortuary [in La Guaira], which has completely collapsed under the pressure of the emergency.”

On Saturday, Venezuela’s acting leader, Delcy Rodríguez, tried to comfort shell-shocked citizens. “Today we have managed to save 33 people who were still alive and I want to thank you,” she told a group of foreign rescue workers during a televised broadcast.

“Every life means hope for Venezuela,” Rodríguez later tweeted, announcing that an 11-year-old boy had been found alive in the town of Caraballeda, along the devastated northern coast.

Venezuela’s communications ministry has also sought to project an image of unity and diligence in the face of the tragedy, posting social media videos of government rescue teams using sledgehammers and stretchers to pluck dust-caked survivors from the rubble.

But on the streets, there is growing anger at what many perceive as the sluggish response of a government unprepared for a crisis of this scale, and the way many feel they were abandoned to their own fate in the hours after disaster struck.

Rodríguez was heckled by frustrated locals while touring one badly hit part of the capital. “The government isn’t doing anything for the people!” shouted one critic.

Outside the mortuary, the relentless work of volunteers offering water, coffee and trauma counselling contrasted with the lethargic official reaction, which experts blame on years of underinvestment in emergency services, as well as the sheer scale of the natural disaster.

Similar scenes could be seen all across the traumatised city, as tents, mattresses and food were delivered to hundreds​ of families sleeping out on the streets because they were too frightened to return home, many with young children. If there is one thing not lacking in Caracas, it is the food provided by volunteers.

“I thank God because Venezuelans have such enormous hearts … The people have been extraordinary,” Marjorie Cedeño said as she waited for news of her parents.

“There may be no government response,” she added. “But there are so many good people helping.”