When Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 CE, the Romans had no clue that such a thing could ever happen. Therefore, they had no means to prevent the disaster that killed the flourishing city’s residents and covered it with volcanic debris. A millennium later, Pompeii, frozen in time, is a stark reminder of the incredible power of nature and the cost of ignoring it.
In today’s era, technological advancements have significantly enhanced the ability to predict natural hazards. This is then used to disseminate warnings, evacuations and to implement safety protocols. As atmospheric events are far more accurate and specific than their geological counterparts, countless lives have been saved by prediction and prevention.
Experts now categorise disasters as the outcome of ignored vulnerabilities. They are also a crucible for predicting and preventing future disasters. What mechanisms have we put in place after the devastating floods of 2022 or the ones that consistently pummel us from Khyber to Makran each year?
It is only through proactive risk assessment, clear communication, defined roles, and mitigation that nations have achieved significant progress in Disaster Risk Reduction (DRR). The UN’s Sendai Framework for DRR emphasises that political will is crucial for this. Lack of it has been cited as DRR’s main inhibitor.
DRR’s first step, which has eluded us so far, is disaster vulnerability assessment. It identifies the vulnerabilities of a community and its infrastructure against natural disasters or human-induced threats.
The latter’s example includes subsidence, dilapidated buildings, deforestation, unregulated urbanisation and encroached-upon riverbanks and waterways. We cannot simply wish away these vulnerabilities or the vagaries of climate change.
Repetitive disasters are a fallout of an absent DRR. As a result, the Environmental Performance Index 2024 has us placed ignominiously at the 179th position among 180 countries.
Disaster management is not about acting as a weather alert messenger. An alert is intended to give us a head start in operationalising a comprehensive on-the-ground plan to prevent a disaster. This plain logic has no takers among our policymakers.
Recently, two individuals proved how a proactive approach can avert tragedies. In Swat, Saeed Ahmad, principal of a local school, saved the lives of 900 students by having the school evacuated in 15 minutes before torrents of water demolished it. Saeed Ahmad sensed that, due to consistent rain, the stream was going to burst its banks. A principal for 12 years, he recalled that the school had been destroyed in the summer vacations of 1995 due to floods and this led to his having the school evacuated.
At almost the same time, a GLOF in Ghizer Valley could have caused devastation. Wasiyat Khan, herding his sheep near the glacier, used his mobile phone to alert the residents of Tildas Village about the impending flood. His timely warning averted a human tragedy as the villagers moved to safer locations. The flood devastated 80 per cent of the village. Two disasters were averted by two astute individuals with no institutional support but a sense of responsibility. One can well imagine the profound impact on DRR if the government chooses to be proactive.
In 1970, Cyclone Bhola, with winds of 185 km/h, struck East Pakistan, resulting in the deaths of 500,000 people. This tragedy fomented further alienation that would lead to the partition of Pakistan. In 2020, super-cyclone Amphan hit Bangladesh with 190 km/h winds and 17ft high storm-water surges. It caused 26 fatalities. Thousands of lives were saved through in-place warning and safety systems.
In 1970, East Pakistan had just 44 cyclone shelters; today, Bangladesh has 14,000 with the capacity to accommodate five million people. Systems are in place to provide meals and medical care to these people. Hygienic toilets have been built above expected flood levels along with flood-resistant tubewells. $1 spent on preventive measures sees Bangladesh avoiding $123 in damages.
This massive effort is realised by Bangladesh’s Ministry of Disaster Management and Relief. Among other steps, it has raised a trained force of 76,000 volunteers, half of them women. Seeking guidance from Bangladesh, 54 years our junior, could be sobering and extremely helpful. Countries like Bangladesh, which have maximised DRR, treat natural hazards as a civil defence issue. This only happens where human life is not a mere statistic. Bizarrely, our budgetary allocation for disaster preparedness at 33.16 billion rupees has been slashed by 30 per cent as compared to last year’s allocation.
Nevertheless, a $50 million World Bank-funded project shall see the installation of 300 new automated weather stations. Weather observatories are only one component of what makes a comprehensive and effective DRR system. Without it, they remain propaganda tools intended to demonstrate the government’s intent at DRR.
A new single-bid 23.83-billion-rupee Indus Telemetry Project at 27 water discharge points of the Indus River has also been initiated. In 2000, with Wapda at the helm, the late General Musharraf initiated our first telemetry system. It was abandoned after years of malfunction. This time around, Wapda is the executing agency again and the consultants remain unchanged. Can a different outcome be expected?
Cloudburst is the new nature-blaming euphemism that is very much in vogue – even though apathy, a purely human trait, is at fault. Year after year, the country remains unprepared, defenceless, and feebly reactive against devastating deluges and the aftermath of disease outbreaks.
There is a consensus among environmental geographers that there is no such thing as a natural disaster. The vulnerability or preparedness is merely a manifestation of the DRR calculus in place. Absence of an effective and ever-evolving one and no one accountable whatsoever for the loss of lives, means dismissing the inevitable in future. What else can one call it but disasters by design?
The writer is a freelance contributor. He can be reached at: miradnanaziz@gmail.com