Pakistan: When the levee breaks
By Saad Sarfraz Sheikh
October 2, 2010 Beads of sweat drip down Irfanullah’s face as he clutches the weak branches of a date tree. It seems to be a safe place to settle into until Mother Nature’s rampage runs its course… Barely an hour ago, the local mosque had warned them of the surging water, forcing Irfanullah to send his children to a distant village. He had later returned to his flooded house, which was already giving up to the might of the water. The walls were the first to go, as every brick disappeared into the rising water. Stuffing whatever he had into his crimson salwar kameez, he climbed the tallest tree to save his life. He spent the entire night there, rattled, kicking off desperate snakes, only able to escape when people on a rubber raft spotted him the next morning. Unlike victims in the neighbouring province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa who were caught unaware, Irfanullah was at least ‘warned’ in advance about the floods in his village of Daira Din Pannah, one of the hardest-hit flood areas in Punjab. In South Punjab, displaced villagers litter and foment the horizon. They sit with whatever they have, under rain or sunshine, aligning their charpoys and covering them with clothes to use as shelter. Their expectant eyes trace the smoky trail of relief trucks, as they fade away, only to be absorbed by the mirage of disaster mismanagement. There have been reports of those affected forcibly climbing trucks in their hope to grab mere morsels. Relief teams are forced to push them off the edge of the truck, as the majority among them are ‘ professionals’, people posing as victims of the flood. They are mostly labourers, joining the flood victims for food and other relief, depriving them of their deserving share. … A million cows and buffaloes drowned, unable to escape as their owners had forgotten to free them while fleeing. The military was seen justifying the defence budget by using its machinery while rescuing, but the government was nowhere in sight. Visitors are disheartened not to see a single government relief truck or activity in the affected areas, and wonder where the government is at such a critical time. “We have nothing, nothing,” says Irfanullah. “And no one to help us.” What about aid from Islamabad? “The government can’t help anyone,” he says coldly. “The government itself is a disaster.” … Saad Sarfraz Sheikh is a journalist based in Lahore. He can be reached at: saadsarfrazsheikh@gmail.com
