Title: Floods – A Test from Nature or the Result of Human Negligence?
By: Prof Masood Akhtar Hazarvi
Natural disasters have always been an undeniable part of human history. Sometimes earthquakes wiped out settlements, sometimes storms washed away entire towns, and sometimes floods turned fertile fields into ruins. But the real question is: are these calamities purely natural, or do human incompetence, mismanagement, and selfishness also play a role in intensifying their devastating effects?
Pakistan, especially with regard to floods, is a land that has repeatedly faced such trials. Yet, every disaster leaves us with new wounds instead of teaching us lessons. Its geography and climate make Pakistan highly vulnerable to floods. Glacial melt, monsoon rains, the vast delta of the Indus River, and low-lying floodplains have repeatedly reminded us that floods are not sudden accidents here, but rather an expected reality. Our tragedy, however, is that we mourn every flood as an “accident” but never make serious efforts toward prevention or permanent solutions.
The effects of floods go far beyond destroyed homes and ruined crops. They displace millions of families, deprive children of education, push the poor deeper into poverty, and inflict economic wounds that take decades to heal. Being an agricultural country, Pakistan still experiences soaring food prices after floods — one of the most direct consequences of such disasters. The bitter truth is that in Pakistan, the destruction caused by floods stems not only from natural factors but also from the incompetence and mismanagement of rulers. Illegal constructions, housing societies along riverbanks, blocked waterways, inadequate drainage systems, and corruption-ridden projects all turn a natural disaster into a human tragedy.
Had we built dams on time, developed systems to store rainwater, and regularly cleared our rivers, the severity of floods could have been significantly reduced. What is needed is not just temporary relief efforts but a comprehensive strategy: building modern dams, improving drainage networks, cleaning water channels, launching afforestation and environmental projects, and, most importantly, ensuring transparency and accountability within government institutions. Natural disasters cannot be stopped, but their impact can certainly be minimized. If we fail to act now, future generations will not forgive us, and history will record our rulers among those who indulged in luxuries while their nation drowned in misery.
Rain falls from the sky, but floods rise due to mismanagement on earth. In the valleys of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, heavy monsoon rains are a natural occurrence. But when those rains destroy villages, wash away bridges and roads, and claim hundreds of lives, a troubling question arises: is this divine wrath, or the result of our collective negligence and governmental incompetence?
According to the National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA), between June 26 and August 20, 2025, more than 700 people died in rain and flood-related incidents across Pakistan. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa suffered the worst, with over 350 lives lost. In districts like Buner and Swat, water wiped out entire settlements within moments. Rain is mercy, but when floodplains and river corridors are encroached upon for commercial and residential use, the water inevitably takes its own path — demolishing homes to reclaim its way. Deforestation added to the crisis; the trees that once held the soil together were cut down, leading to landslides and mudslides burying villages.
Another glaring administrative failure was in early warning. Systems existed, but messages did not reach villages in time. Entire communities slept unaware, and in the dark of night, waters swept them away. Our national narrative, sadly, remains: “There was too much rain,” “Cloudburst occurred,” “This is God’s trial.” Undoubtedly, these are natural phenomena, but other mountainous regions in the world face similar threats. The difference is: they have risk mapping, restrictions on flood zones, community volunteers, timely evacuation drills, and resilient infrastructure. When we ignore all this, the destruction cannot be blamed on nature but on our own negligence.
Islam does not merely instruct us to pray; it calls for establishing collective order and respecting the rights of the earth. The Qur’an says: “Do not cause corruption in the land” (Surah Al-A’raf: 56). And: “Do not cheat people of their due” (Surah Al-A’raf: 85). When bridges and roads, built with corrupt contracts, collapse in the first rains, it is not just mismanagement but collective betrayal.
History shows that floods in Pakistan bring us the same lessons, but we keep repeating the same words. The floods of 1950, 1973, 1992, and then 2010 all narrate the tale of our collective failures. The world learned from such tragedies and safeguarded its towns and cities, while we handed out relief funds, pitched a few tents, and moved on in silence. Such an attitude is not just cruelty toward today’s citizens but also toward future generations.
If Japan can withstand earthquakes, if the Netherlands can protect its land from the sea, and if Turkey can build modern cities resilient to disasters — why can’t we?
So, what lies ahead? How can we protect ourselves in the future? The answer lies in urgent planning. Flood-prone areas must legally be declared no-go zones for habitation. Construction on riverbanks must be strictly prohibited. Government officials should prepare flood maps at the village level and conduct evacuation drills to train people for emergencies. The GLOF (Glacial Lake Outburst Flood) warning system must be expanded with modern sensors and effective communication channels in local languages.
If we fail to reform today, future generations will ask us: “When you knew everything, what did you do?”