SUNDAY BYTES: Are We Prepared for Disasters?
Let us not wait for the water to reach our doorsteps. Let us prepare now, before it is too late.
Dr. Fiaz Maqbool Fazil
The last few days have been alarming. Social media feeds overflow with disturbing images of flash floods and devastation from a melting glacier in Nepal. The scenes are horrific. Yet, amidst the chaos and grief, a troubling question emerges: Where were the Nepalese seismologists? Where was the disaster management apparatus? Were they caught in oblivion, or were the warnings simply ignored?
This is not a critique of Nepal alone. This is a mirror held up to all of us who live in the fragile embrace of the Himalayas. As a Kashmiri, I have witnessed nature’s fury firsthand. I have seen the warning signs, and I have experienced the terror of being unprepared.
“The warning signs you can’t ignore, nature speaks before it strikes”, are words echoing in my mind . The question is whether we are listening.
In Kashmir, we have witnessed cloudbursts at Pahalgam – early warning signs of a changing climate and increasing instability in our fragile ecosystem. These are not isolated incidents. They are part of a pattern, a narrative written in the language of melting glaciers, erratic rainfall, and swollen rivers.
The science is clear: the Himalayan region is one of the most vulnerable zones in the world to climate change. Glacial melt is accelerating. Permafrost is thawing. The frequency of extreme weather events is increasing. Yet, our response remains reactive. We wait for disaster to strike, and then we scramble.
But the warning signs are there for those who choose to see them.
Receding snowlines: A silent but undeniable indicator that our water towers are shrinking.
Unpredictable weather patterns: Cloudbursts, hailstorms, and flash floods in areas previously unaffected· River swelling: Even without heavy rainfall, rivers are rising due to glacial melt.Landslides: Increasing in frequency and intensity, destabilizing entire communities. These are not vague concerns, anecdotes. They are measurable, observable realities. And they demand a response.
A Personal Lament: The Day the Water Came.
I share this not as a fairy tale, but as a grim reminder of what happens when we ignore nature’s warnings. During the flood of 2014, I faced a moment of terror that I will never forget. My ailing mother was on home oxygen, dependent on cylinders, a suction machine, and a nebulizer. She was immobile, fragile, and completely dependent on life-saving devices. When the water began to rise near our home at Hyderpora, Gulberg Colony, I called relatives and engineers – people I trusted, people with expertise. I asked them: Is the water going to enter our house? Is there a danger?
Their response was reassuring. “Don’t worry. The bund will hold. The water won’t reach you.”
But my son, a young man Gen z of simple wisdom and sharp instincts, not wedded to traditionalism was not convinced. He was with the group guarding the river bund. He came running to me and said, “Papa, Amaji ko nikaloo… paani aa raha hai.” (Father, take mother out… the water is coming.)
I hesitated. I was not an engineer or a seismologist. I had surrendered to the supposed expertise of others. But my helper’s urgency was undeniable. Within minutes, he picked up the oxygen cylinder and suction machine, shouting for us to hurry. We packed medicines into a bag and loaded the car. It took us barely 25 minutes.
As we drove out, I sensed water seeping under the gate. Panic set in. I grabbed my folder – passport, travel documents – and helped the maid adjust my mother in the car. As we reached the gate and drove 100 meters toward the mosque, I saw water gushing ahead. Before I could accelerate, the water reached bumper height.
We escaped, but only by minutes. Engineers, experts, and forecasts had failed. My domestic help, armed with nothing but his instinct, had saved our lives.
This story is not an indictment of engineers or scientists, highlighting the failure of – khazar suchta hai Jhelum Kinarrey. It is an indictment of a mindset – a culture of complacency that assumes we have control over nature.
We rely on forecasts that are often wrong. We trust infrastructure that is poorly maintained. We believe in the expertise of those who are disconnected from the ground reality. But when nature’s fury is unleashed, all these certainties dissolve.
Engineering can fail. Weather forecasts can be wrong. But there is one thing that cannot fail: Preparation.
Disaster management must not be a fire-fighting response. It must be a culture, an instinct, a way of life. We need to move beyond the reactive model of “wait and see” and embrace a proactive approach that prioritizes safety over convenience.
A Citizen’s Call to Action: The question is simple, yet profound: Are we ready?
Are we ready to act before we are sorry?
I am not asking for complex solutions. I am asking for a shift in mindset. Here are five actions we can take today:
- Listen to the ground: Experts are valuable, but they are not infallible. The people living on the frontlines of nature’s fury often have instincts and knowledge that cannot be captured in reports or models. Create mechanisms for community-based early warning systems.
- Invest in preparedness: Early warning systems, evacuation plans, and emergency supplies must be in place long before disaster strikes. This is not an expense; it is an investment in survival.
- Educate the public: Every citizen should know the warning signs, the evacuation routes, and the emergency protocols. Knowledge is power, and in times of disaster, it can be the difference between life and death.
- Strengthen infrastructure: The engineering must be robust, resilient, and built with the understanding that nature is unpredictable. Over-engineered solutions that fail under pressure are worse than no solutions at all.
- Foster a culture of responsibility: Disaster management is not the sole responsibility of governments or agencies. It is a collective responsibility. Each of us must be vigilant, prepared, and willing to act.
The Himalayan Lament: We call the Himalayas the “abode of gods.” We sing songs of their beauty and majesty. But we forget that they are also a force to be reckoned with.
The devastation in Nepal is a wake-up call. The cloudbursts at Pahalgam are a warning. The memories of the 2014 floods are a scar on our collective conscience.
We cannot continue to ignore the signs. We cannot continue to trust in fragile certainties. We cannot afford to be caught unprepared again.
As I reflect on that day in 2014, I am grateful for the instincts of my domestic help. But I am also deeply troubled by the realization that our systems failed us—and that they could fail us again.
The question is not whether nature will strike again. It will. The question is: Will we be ready?
Are we ready to act before we are sorry? The answer lies in our actions today. Let us not wait for the water to reach our doorsteps. Let us prepare now, before it is too late.
(STRAIGHT TALK COMMUNICATIONS EXCLUSIVE)
