It has been 11 months since the rains came down and destroyed lives in Balochistan. An unfortunate familiar pattern for a million and half residents, alone, in southern Balochistan. In 2010, 2012 and 2022 there were particularly bad flood events which made extremely vulnerable parts of Pakistan even more destitute. Climate changes have made this underdeveloped area of Pakistan extremely prone to the risk of disaster. No one seems to care. We have heard the seminars at local and global forums, but nothing really trickles down or happens where it should and must: at the household community levels.
The absence of government investment in human, social and physical infrastructure has left millions below the poverty lines for generations, and now completely helpless, in the face of growing climatical extreme changes – from droughts to flooding and all that happens after, without any individual resilience or capacity to mitigate. That is the challenge of Balochistan.
While Islamabad, Rawalpindi and Lahore fight the power struggles, Balochistan's residents wonder where the next meal is going to come from.
11 months later, in Allah Abad colony in Jaffrabad district in southern Balochistan, Rehana helps break ground on the debris of her old home. This time, with the generosity of many individual Pakistani citizens, we have been able to design homes which will withstand the wrath of Mother Nature and the apathy of those who govern these lands. Seeing Rehana work the shovel along with her young children is a sight for sore eyes. The joy, absent these past eleven months momentarily returns to 12 families.
Rakhi, turns to Imdad sb of SPO (my implementing partner organization) and says, “I can’t believe it, without sifarish you are going to build us a home? I don’t know why but blessing upon all of you.”
Hearing this hit a nerve I did not know I had, and certainly did not know how to respond. This deeply held sentiment amongst the most vulnerable in Pakistan makes me weep in so many ways as a Pakistani – words cannot describe.
12 homes will be built in Jaffrabad by the end of July by the grace of the generosity of Neveena Group and individual benefactors. It was an emotional moment, I have to admit, there were tears in many eyes on May 18th 2023 in Allah Abad Colony.
Earlier, sitting in a circle, we gathered with the 12 families, whose homes we are building. I passed around a model of the home we are building. I was keen to listen to the feedback from the women who will live in them. What did they think of the design, step by step we explained the nature and utilities of the roof, drainage system, the attached bathroom, the importance of hygiene, sanitation, the covered animal shed, on the side of the home, the widows for cross ventilation, the 3 feet raised ground to safeguard from rainwater etc. “I will spend all my time sweeping and cleaning my new bungalow,” said Faizan Khatoon with a broad smile across her toothless face. “I am going to sit and have tea in my guest room,” Hanifa Bibi piped. Everyone laughed and said, “That is your animal shed, not your guest room, bibi jan.” “Ah what a place for animals,” she said with twinkling eyes.
Listening to them, I noticed that they weren’t merely smiling, but there was hope, a ray perhaps for a better future. Momentarily they forgot that they hadn’t eaten in days or were unwell with fever from the 45-degree heat with no electricity, not a blade of shade, or a roof over their heads, for too many months and counting.
Little Zari (blind tailor master Taimur’s daughter), sat in our circle, silent and in a daze. I had noticed this immediately. Throughout the discussion she remained still and frozen in some other world. I realised she had high fever. Why was she here, I wondered, she ought to be resting some place clean and safe. But where should she have gone? Her sister Humaira was in a filthy tent, burning with fever, unwell as well. I checked on her later.
Zari had come to our gathering because she could not miss this ceremony. She wanted the home and thought that if she did not come, then she would not get her home built. Moreover, she could not let her mentally challenged brother Zamran come alone to this important occasion. I gave her a some bottled (clean drinking) water and a couple of Panadol immediately, but the whole situation was so dire that anything one did would not suffice. This sense of overwhelming helplessness is soul-wrenching.
Why couldn’t I call 999 or an emergency service to provide the necessary care for her and so many here? All the relief work in the world cannot replace what government is legally morally bound to provide these citizens. What we as individual citizens, social workers or philanthropists provide is less than a drop in an ocean of tears that we need to wipe – immediately.
What is the silver lining here? One must be positive. Every little effort from Pakistani philanthropists matters. A dozen vulnerable widows and their families will have sturdy, proper, safe and resilient homes for the first time in their lives. Each one will have property deed papers registered in her name for additional security.
As we build these disaster-risk-reduced homes, to adapt and mitigate against climate change incidents in Jaffrabad; we will also begin to engage these women and residents of these six villages to develop some life skills.
We will start with hope. And move from there.
The absence of government investment in human, social and physical infrastructure has left millions below the poverty lines for generations, and now completely helpless, in the face of growing climatical extreme changes – from droughts to flooding and all that happens after, without any individual resilience or capacity to mitigate. That is the challenge of Balochistan.
While Islamabad, Rawalpindi and Lahore fight the power struggles, Balochistan's residents wonder where the next meal is going to come from.
11 months later, in Allah Abad colony in Jaffrabad district in southern Balochistan, Rehana helps break ground on the debris of her old home. This time, with the generosity of many individual Pakistani citizens, we have been able to design homes which will withstand the wrath of Mother Nature and the apathy of those who govern these lands. Seeing Rehana work the shovel along with her young children is a sight for sore eyes. The joy, absent these past eleven months momentarily returns to 12 families.
Rakhi, turns to Imdad sb of SPO (my implementing partner organization) and says, “I can’t believe it, without sifarish you are going to build us a home? I don’t know why but blessing upon all of you.”
Hearing this hit a nerve I did not know I had, and certainly did not know how to respond. This deeply held sentiment amongst the most vulnerable in Pakistan makes me weep in so many ways as a Pakistani – words cannot describe.
12 homes will be built in Jaffrabad by the end of July by the grace of the generosity of Neveena Group and individual benefactors. It was an emotional moment, I have to admit, there were tears in many eyes on May 18th 2023 in Allah Abad Colony.
Earlier, sitting in a circle, we gathered with the 12 families, whose homes we are building. I passed around a model of the home we are building. I was keen to listen to the feedback from the women who will live in them. What did they think of the design, step by step we explained the nature and utilities of the roof, drainage system, the attached bathroom, the importance of hygiene, sanitation, the covered animal shed, on the side of the home, the widows for cross ventilation, the 3 feet raised ground to safeguard from rainwater etc. “I will spend all my time sweeping and cleaning my new bungalow,” said Faizan Khatoon with a broad smile across her toothless face. “I am going to sit and have tea in my guest room,” Hanifa Bibi piped. Everyone laughed and said, “That is your animal shed, not your guest room, bibi jan.” “Ah what a place for animals,” she said with twinkling eyes.
Listening to them, I noticed that they weren’t merely smiling, but there was hope, a ray perhaps for a better future. Momentarily they forgot that they hadn’t eaten in days or were unwell with fever from the 45-degree heat with no electricity, not a blade of shade, or a roof over their heads, for too many months and counting.
Little Zari (blind tailor master Taimur’s daughter), sat in our circle, silent and in a daze. I had noticed this immediately. Throughout the discussion she remained still and frozen in some other world. I realised she had high fever. Why was she here, I wondered, she ought to be resting some place clean and safe. But where should she have gone? Her sister Humaira was in a filthy tent, burning with fever, unwell as well. I checked on her later.
Zari had come to our gathering because she could not miss this ceremony. She wanted the home and thought that if she did not come, then she would not get her home built. Moreover, she could not let her mentally challenged brother Zamran come alone to this important occasion. I gave her a some bottled (clean drinking) water and a couple of Panadol immediately, but the whole situation was so dire that anything one did would not suffice. This sense of overwhelming helplessness is soul-wrenching.
Why couldn’t I call 999 or an emergency service to provide the necessary care for her and so many here? All the relief work in the world cannot replace what government is legally morally bound to provide these citizens. What we as individual citizens, social workers or philanthropists provide is less than a drop in an ocean of tears that we need to wipe – immediately.
What is the silver lining here? One must be positive. Every little effort from Pakistani philanthropists matters. A dozen vulnerable widows and their families will have sturdy, proper, safe and resilient homes for the first time in their lives. Each one will have property deed papers registered in her name for additional security.
As we build these disaster-risk-reduced homes, to adapt and mitigate against climate change incidents in Jaffrabad; we will also begin to engage these women and residents of these six villages to develop some life skills.
We will start with hope. And move from there.