A story of hope
Today I am not going to write a story of grief and helplessness, but a story of hope amidst this misery.
Today I am not going to write a story of grief and helplessness, but a story of hope. Amidst this misery and destruction, I found one such story in Kalam, in the valley of Swat, where the floods have washed away over 24 bridges, cutting off large areas of the valley from the rest of Pakistan. Roads, too, have been washed away, so relief goods can only be flown in by helicopter. And when the weather is bad, the helicopters do not fly either. On the request of the Pakistan government, around 15 US aircraft have been flying to various parts of Swat, delivering food and medicines. But for people stuck in far-flung areas, getting to base camps where aid is being distributed is a challenge. “I have walked miles to get here,” said 46-year-old farmer Sherzada. “If I do not get back soon with this bag of flour my six children will die of starvation.”
Although only a few homes have been submerged in his village, there is no electricity or drinking water. The locals are no longer waiting for outside help to rebuild damaged bridges, which are a lifeline in this mountainous terrain. “We have started to rebuild bridges on our own from chopping trees in the forest,” says 20-year-old college student Gohar Rehman, who was home for the holidays. “We cannot afford to remain cut off, two valleys are joined by bridges and all the hospitals are on the other side. Yesterday, a pregnant woman had to be taken to the hospital, but she had to deliver her baby on the banks of the river as there was no way to get her across. That is when we decided to take matters into our own hands.” It has been a tough few years for the locals here. Last year they were displaced due to the war against the Taliban and now the floods. But despite the relentless crises, here in the valley of Swat, somewhere, the human spirit triumphs.
In Rajanpur district, in the south of Punjab, Governor Salmaan Taseer told me: “This is a big tragedy, too big for any government to deal with. We are trying our best.” The governor was accompanying US Senator John Kerry, along with President Zardari, to the flood hit district. The senator wanted to assess the damage so that he could have a better understanding of how to allot funds. As the leaders walked up to a relief camp, the flood victims desperately shouted out, “President Zardari, zindabad!” “I have been waiting here since the morning,” a woman cried out to me from the crowd, being pushed back by security forces who have formed a cordon around the president and the senator. “My son was killed by the river, my mother-in-law was swept away in the floods. My children are sick, they will die of hunger,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “Shoot me, put me out of my misery, if you cannot give me food or water.”
Before I knew it, wailing women surrounded me, all holding onto their identity cards as though their life depended upon it. And indeed it does, because without ID cards flood victims cannot register, and registration is the first step to getting aid. They flashed their ID cards in front of my camera hoping this would get them food and water. “Help us, help us,” they called out in unison. I look around at the desperate, dirty, grief-stricken faces and realise that I am looking for hope where only death and destruction lurks.
International aid is coming in, but the implementation of aid distribution is going to be a challenge for a government weakened by political intrigue, corruption charges and lack of planning. More importantly, only those who make it to relief camps receive food and medicines. But what about those who are trapped? It’s a tragedy beyond any government’s capacity but mobile help teams, distributing food and medicines, can save lives of all those trapped and surrounded by water.
Published in The Express Tribune, August 24th, 2010.
Although only a few homes have been submerged in his village, there is no electricity or drinking water. The locals are no longer waiting for outside help to rebuild damaged bridges, which are a lifeline in this mountainous terrain. “We have started to rebuild bridges on our own from chopping trees in the forest,” says 20-year-old college student Gohar Rehman, who was home for the holidays. “We cannot afford to remain cut off, two valleys are joined by bridges and all the hospitals are on the other side. Yesterday, a pregnant woman had to be taken to the hospital, but she had to deliver her baby on the banks of the river as there was no way to get her across. That is when we decided to take matters into our own hands.” It has been a tough few years for the locals here. Last year they were displaced due to the war against the Taliban and now the floods. But despite the relentless crises, here in the valley of Swat, somewhere, the human spirit triumphs.
In Rajanpur district, in the south of Punjab, Governor Salmaan Taseer told me: “This is a big tragedy, too big for any government to deal with. We are trying our best.” The governor was accompanying US Senator John Kerry, along with President Zardari, to the flood hit district. The senator wanted to assess the damage so that he could have a better understanding of how to allot funds. As the leaders walked up to a relief camp, the flood victims desperately shouted out, “President Zardari, zindabad!” “I have been waiting here since the morning,” a woman cried out to me from the crowd, being pushed back by security forces who have formed a cordon around the president and the senator. “My son was killed by the river, my mother-in-law was swept away in the floods. My children are sick, they will die of hunger,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “Shoot me, put me out of my misery, if you cannot give me food or water.”
Before I knew it, wailing women surrounded me, all holding onto their identity cards as though their life depended upon it. And indeed it does, because without ID cards flood victims cannot register, and registration is the first step to getting aid. They flashed their ID cards in front of my camera hoping this would get them food and water. “Help us, help us,” they called out in unison. I look around at the desperate, dirty, grief-stricken faces and realise that I am looking for hope where only death and destruction lurks.
International aid is coming in, but the implementation of aid distribution is going to be a challenge for a government weakened by political intrigue, corruption charges and lack of planning. More importantly, only those who make it to relief camps receive food and medicines. But what about those who are trapped? It’s a tragedy beyond any government’s capacity but mobile help teams, distributing food and medicines, can save lives of all those trapped and surrounded by water.
Published in The Express Tribune, August 24th, 2010.