* Any views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and not of Thomson Reuters Foundation.
These blog posts are written by Thomas Schwarz, Emergency Media Officer for CARE International who is in Pakistan's flood hit regions.
August 16, 2010
Local militia groups help flood victims and then publicly praises their own work. This is what I read in the news. In interviews, journalists ask if it is true and I say yes. Of course they publicize their good works. Everybody does who does good deeds for others. But is this the question we should be asking right now? Not for me.
This debate is irrelevant and has nothing to with the reality we face here every day across the country. It's a typically western obsession, not held by the flood affected people in need. Frankly, I barely understand the connection between the topic and the biggest natural disaster of our time. We should be focusing our attention on how we can provide immediate relief efficiently and effectively to those in need.
I witnessed in Moltan just how CARE is supporting mobile health clinics so that primary health care is accessible to those who need it.
The temperature here is a humid 40 degrees and flies are everywhere. A man shoos them away. Flood victims queue patiently for their turn before registration and immediate medical assistance. The process is quick and efficient and the people here are directly benefiting from this intervention, thanks to the generous donations to CARE's work.
Moltan lies to the south of Punjab Province where new floods are predicted as monsoon rains continue.
CARE's warehouses here are all now empty, and as more donations come in we are procuring more supplies to distribute to those in need. Since the floods began we have distributed tents, hygiene kits, mosquito nets and kitchen sets. It is not true that humanitarian assistance is not reaching those in need. It is, but simply not enough!
Along the main, four lane road out of Moltan we see tents, one after another like a string of pearls. Tents? That's an exaggeration. Plastic sheets held up by wooden poles. The front and back remain open providing no privacy for those who seek its shelter. But it at least provides some protection from the fierce sun.
A 70-year-old man sits alone, staring into space. Around him children doing likewise.
When we arrive, we are surrounded by people immediately. Everybody wants to say something. They all say the same: "We have no tents. Look!" They point to a village, less than 200 meters away but its completely flooded now and all you can see are roofs. Their return to their village depends on how long the rains will continue for and how long it will take for the stagnant water to recede.
Then they tell us, that they are receiving food. When we ask from whom, they reply "People from Moltan are coming every day to deliver food." These people are strangers but they can rely on them. Today, as the holy fasting month of Ramadan has now started, they arrive in the evening, after sunset. Tomorrow Pakistan celebrates its independence from the British Empire. No Taliban, no politics, no military is important here, but the people. People help people in Pakistan. And this is the true Pakistan I know and appreciate.
By the way, Zahid - the sick little boy I met in Charsadda, lying listless on the mud-covered floor of his flooded home, is playing again in the part of his village that the floodwaters hadn't reached. My colleague, Mujahid, just sent me a mail to let me know. The mother was able to take her son to the hospital and now he's better and playing once more with his friends.
Another question often asked by journalists comes to mind: "Does the help reach people?" Yes, it does.
August 10, 2010
The old woman and the flood
When we started early this morning from Islamabad, I didn't exactly know what would be awaiting me in the region of Mardan. I had seen many reports on TV, read the papers, listened to the radio and had spoken with my CARE colleagues. The whole weekend I had met UN representatives as well as other international humanitarian organisations.
We took the motorway No. 1, direction Northwest. This highway is cut into three pieces, almost through half of the whole country, from Lahore in the South to Karachi in the Northwest. On both sides there are fields, women and men alike are working there. Everything seems to be okay at first - at least it looks like it's okay. No flooding, not even rain, no water - until, after about 50 km, we saw the Indus River. Aggressive, powerful, somehow threatening. It has broadened itself to the double size of it origin. We cross it, over a long bridge, and all of a sudden it disappeared, as if it were trying to hide from us. Suddenly the fog makes it invisible. But there it is, the monster, which has claimed lives and stolen everything from millions of flood victims. And, as always, it was taken from the poorest and most vulnerable.
The water has stolen everything
After the bridge and the fog, maybe 60 to 70 km later: tents, again and again. They stood in fields, along the highway. People put them anywhere they found some space - and no water. There they live now, those who have lost their homes. Those, whom the flood almost took their lives. Another 30 km maybe, after the tents: we are in Zareenabad, in Gharebabad and in Nawan Kili. These names are for me almost unspeakable, although I really gave it a try. Altogether 26,000 people are living here, in normal times.
Not far away from this community settlement lives Nambarj. She's 65 years old and a widow. "Watch here, this house. It simply disappeared," she says. "It is simply not there anymore." CARE has provided her with a tent. When the flood came, the water jumped more than two metres above the wall of the courtyard. What is left? "Look there," she says. She shows the old kitchen, where she used to have all her kitchen utensils. "There, this is everything I have now. Two small machines. Everything else the water has stolen from me." His son works on a daily basis in Mardan, the centre of the region. Every day a new start, everyday finishing and so on. Now he has married and has problems enough to feed his new family.
Terrible pictures, unbelievable poverty
CARE promises the woman to bring her kitchen utensils within a few days. When one has lost everything, even small things can make a really big difference. By the way: here also CARE is cooperating with local partners. Imran Inan of the CRDO (Community Research and Development Organisation) is a person who deserves my deepest respect. The way he accompanies me and not only translates, impresses me. He has a word for each and every remark of the survivors. His patience and humble work is really something I admire. CRDO is one of several partner organisations of CARE in Pakistan.
I have an idea about poverty. I have seen it in many different countries; it is a reality. What I have seen now, though, leaves me stunned. Not only the situation of the widow, but also the one of the old man, who tells us simply: "I don't even have shoes anymore." He lives with his children and grandchildren in a tent next to his son's house, which is still standing. Imran is listening carefully. "He will get them tomorrow," he says. "We just received shoes. He will get them tomorrow. Promised." The people in the north-western part of Pakistan are poor, even poorer than many in other parts of Pakistan.
Is there Zahid in rich countries, too?
But the situation of this small boy, who is laying on the wet, muddy floor of this small, simple house that survived the floods, shocks me. We were just about to go to the next meeting when someone stopped us. "Please, come to my house, please!" Zahid is only four years old. Coughing and a high fever exhausted him so much that he is sleeping, laid out on the wet, muddy floor. His chest is only slowly going up and down. It is 3:30 in the afternoon. The mother cries, when she sees not only me, but also the others coming to her house. It is empty, besides the fact, that Zahid is laying on the floor.
The mother does not have enough money for the transportation to the next hospital. Not to mention any money for the medication he needs, urgently needs. Someone gives her some money, at least for the transport. "Do you know, Thomas," my CARE colleague Mujahid says, "there are many cases like this one in this region." He adds: "We will find a solution."
I find it profoundly shaming, how we - the rich countries - are coping with one of the biggest natural disasters in decades. At the same time I try not to become unjust. Also in our countries are poor people, of course. There is poverty, yes. But I wonder, if there is Zahid in the UK, the Netherlands, France or Germany, too. I am not sure.
