The Times this past Saturday had a brilliant article written by author and farmer Daniyal Mueenuddin entitled, The Flood Has Only Just Begun. Here is an excerpt:
"Hundreds of families were encamped on the levee, the poorest of the poor, who could not get away into the interior, their few rescued possessions scattered around them, tin plates, bedding. Some had managed to escape with the large bins in which they store their stock of grain, and now sat combing through the wheat, spreading it on the ground to dry. I could smell that the wheat had spoilt, giving off a loamy bitter odour; it would not be safe for consumption, and yet they would eat it, would have to..., a cow lay stretched on the ground, dying, the owner pouring water into its mouth as if it were possible to revive it. Cows are the greatest treasure held by these small farmers, the most valuable thing that they own, a source of milk, to drink and to sell, providing a small but consistent stream of income, enough to buy a few small vegetables, salt, chillies, the poor substance of their meals. Almost all of these families had lost animals in the flood and would perhaps never be able to replace them.
A flood, unlike a tsunami or an earthquake, has a rolling impact. There are fewer immediate deaths, but the process of recovery is slower because bringing land back under cultivation after a flood is protracted, difficult and expensive. Even before this latest flood, most people throughout rural Punjab were leading a precarious existence, from hand to mouth. In the flooded areas the majority of the population do not have land, but rather live labouring on the lands of others... I simply cannot conceive how this majority of the rural population will survive for the next months and years.
It is, therefore, clear that in the rural areas - which means the entire flooded area - people are going to be a lot poorer than they were, and they were very poor before."
What's equally, if not more, alarming than the shattered lives, is the tremendous international reluctance to give. This has been attributed to a variety of reasons, two primary being donor fatigue and donor fear. The timing of the catastrophic floods happened just 7 months after the Haitian earthquake and has incurred an even greater sense of giving exhaustion particularly in an already struggling world economy. The Pakistani government, notorious for corruption, is not considered trustworthy to use funds legitimately or efficiently. Of course there is also the presence of extremist groups, having nothing to do with the flood whatsoever, but who will take full advantage of desperate, starving stomachs. Additionally, there has been comparatively scant media coverage a truly absurd measurement of actual needs but still quite influential in determining offered aid. And, really, if those affected were already impoverished before the disaster will any gifts make a difference at all? And the list of excuses continues.
So what do we do? Do we give up, quietly numbing compassion (a frighteningly easy thing to do)? Do we just wait, hoping for others to sort it out? Do we just sigh and shrug, being thankful it's not us? Certainly this world is weighted with needs, the sheer numbers paralyzing to think about, but who are we if we actively choose not to participate in a direct opportunity to simply help others survive? If we shove excuses, questions and justifications aside for just a minute we are left with a surprisingly simple situation. Lives are in ruins.
Arguably, our greatest, most noble calling as human beings is our capacity for compassion. Mere kindness. Basic humanity. And it really takes so very little to be so very life giving.
