Summary:
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According to the Pakistani government, the cost of rebuilding has reached more than $30 billion.
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More than 1,700 individuals lost their lives in the floods, and two million dwellings were either damaged or completely destroyed, making the human cost far higher.
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Rebuilding Najma’s house and school could take several years.
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More than 27,000 schools in Pakistan have been damaged or destroyed, prompting some charities and assistance organizations to build up temporary learning facilities.
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Abdul says, “There was a lot of damage to the infrastructure in this area.”
Millions of people are still without a place to live months after Pakistan experienced terrible floods, and thousands of schools and hospitals are in disrepair.
The nation’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif urged Western countries to provide reparations to poorer, more vulnerable countries like his, who bore the brunt of climate change, at the COP27 summit.
According to the Pakistani government, the cost of rebuilding has reached more than $30 billion.
More than 1,700 individuals lost their lives in the floods, and two million dwellings were either damaged or completely destroyed, making the human cost far higher. Those who made it through are now mired in hopelessness and uncertainty.
“My son washed away in the floodwaters,”
Hanifa talks about what happened on the day in August when it rained a lot and everything changed in a big way as she sits under a tent in a temporary relief camp miles from where she used to live.
The family’s breadwinner and father of six, Abdul Wahab, is quoted as saying, “My son saved us by dying his life.”
Abdul believed the southwestern province of Balochistan’s mud-brick home was ready to entirely collapse as the flood beat on it.
He rescued his family and made plans to move them to a mosque nearby for safety.
Abdul returned to the room just before they left to fetch something. Hanifa claims that he never returned. We ultimately buried him at the mosque.
Her second son hired a car with whatever money he had so that the family could leave the flood-affected area.
A bridge was traversed just hours before it fell. Hanifa claims that several of her family members, who were also attempting to escape, were stranded on the other side and drowned in the water.
“Floods have occurred before, but never one this severe.” “Homes simply fell, destroying whole towns,” Hanifa remembers.
Hanifa laments the loss of her life, especially that of her beloved son Abdul.
“I always have him in my heart.”
“My school was destroyed”
Najma wants to be a doctor, but she worries that day won’t arrive because her school is underwater.
She says, “I miss my classroom, and I miss my teachers.”
She has been unable to study at all because her books were also washed away. “I miss my books from the bottom of my heart.”
Najma had to stay in a tent at a relief camp far from her hamlet because all of her house was destroyed by the floodwaters.
Except when she prays or helps wash dishes at the camp, Najma now spends the majority of her days sitting about aimlessly.
Najma is now afraid as well as bored.
“I’m concerned that my education was a waste. “I wish to finish my secondary education and continue my studies,” she declares.
Being a girl at school was already an accomplishment. Many households in Balochistan’s most traditional areas forbid their daughters from going to school.
Rebuilding Najma’s house and school could take several years. More than 27,000 schools in Pakistan have been damaged or destroyed, prompting some charities and assistance organizations to build up temporary learning facilities.
Only the youngest campers are given lessons where Najma is staying.
Najma can hear a group of young children chanting the alphabet in a nearby marquee as she reclines in her tent. She can’t wait to return to her own class.
“I want to open a hospital for the underprivileged and offer them free medical care.”
We will offer them anything they request because we are now in need, and one day I hope to help others.
“My 3-year-old wants to know where her bedroom is,”
There are piles of bricks, concrete slabs, and mounds of debris, as well as a brilliant green door on the wall that is still standing but no longer leads anywhere.
As he gathers some of the trash and puts it in a wheelbarrow, Abdul Qayoom informs me, “This house was in our family for a hundred years.”
He then gestures to the area where it formerly stood and says, “My three-year-old daughter continues asking me when we can move back into her bedroom.”
His home in the Hana Urak region of Balochistan, an area of Pakistan that is dry and desert and typically more susceptible to drought than rain, was wrecked by flash floods at the end of August.
Abdul says, “My uncle is 84, and even he hasn’t experienced this sort of flooding in this area.” “We’ve never seen this much water in our lives.”
Abdul and his family are sheltering with his brother close by and subsisting on meager food rations. He doesn’t know how he’ll pay to rebuild his house, but he knows that when it does, it won’t be here.
“I won’t rebuild there because I’m afraid; I think we’ll look for a safer spot higher up on a hill,” the speaker said.
Abdul’s home is surrounded by a damaged and desolate landscape.
In this area, which is known for its apple production, trees have been uprooted, profitable orchards have been destroyed, significant portions of the road infrastructure have been lost, and there is debris all over the place.
Abdul says, “There was a lot of damage to the infrastructure in this area.” He also says, “Most of us here are homeless and have lost our homes and jobs.”
Abdul shares a proverb from the area as we go. He explains, “Here we say that you either own a house or a grave.”
“You always go to the market and come home.” You always want to return home after a pilgrimage to Mecca. Everything, he says longingly, starts at home.
That residence has now been reduced to nothing as he trudges off with his wheelbarrow.
Analysis by: Advocacy Unified Network