Ahmed Zulfiqar, 55: 'My wife has cancer and is bed- ridden, so when we evacuated, I had to carry her on my shoulders... Now people are desperate and are taking whatever they can find from abandoned houses' - Zoral Naik
‘How I Escaped the Pakistan Floods’
By Zoral Naik
It is the most devastating natural disaster to have hit Pakistan in recent history. More than 1,500 people have died and 33 million are affected or displaced by the flash floods that hit the country , the world’s fifth most populous, this summer following months of extreme weather conditions.
The fallout is devastating : one third of the country’s districts have declared a calamity; dengue fever cases are soaring, a result of the rising numbers of mosquitoes; disease is rife due to sewage contamination; and now cobras and other venomous snakes are emerging from the waters – more than 130 snake bites have been reported, and there is a dangerous lack of antivenom medicines.
On top of all that are fears of a hunger crisis, with cotton fields, crops and 800,000 cattle washed away, the income source of rural families. Officials estimate that the cost to the economy could be £35 billion.
So, what of the families who survived? Many fled to dry land but, having lost their homes, belongings and livelihoods, are now struggling to survive in the makeshift huts they constructed on roadsides using scrap material.
Photojournalist Zoral Naik travelled to Jacobabad, the world’s hottest city (where temperatures hit 51C in May) and one of those worst affected by monsoon rains, and surrounding areas to meet the displaced families and hear their remarkable but heartbreaking stories.
‘It’s not easy to let go of your home, your belongings, your pride’
Wali-ulla, 49, fruit seller
Lives in Shikarpur with his wife Simpul Wali, their four daughters (Ala Rakhi, Ala Deeni, Ala Warai and Ala Bachai) and three sons (Siraj, Miraj and Asrar)
Wali-ulla’s son Siraj recovered this clock from their flooded home - Zoral Naik
It was 11pm when I realized that the flood water was dangerously high and started fearing for my young children. I tried to block it but soon the water was 2ft deep indoors, while outside in the street it was waist-high. My house is made of raw bricks and I was concerned that the roof could collapse in the rains and rough winds.
The first thing I thought of evacuating was the Qur’an, then my kids. My wife carried our one-year-old, while I lifted our disabled child on to my back, then we guided our other five children to safety in pitch darkness, with only my phone as a torch.
It was a dangerous route. I’d heard that snakes were emerging from the water, which made me anxious. I kept asking for forgiveness while clenching my Qur’an to my chest. I know God rewarded me, which is why we’re in a better situation than many others.
Luckily my brother lives in a part of the city unaffected by flooding, so my wife and children are staying with him. It’s not easy to let go of your home, your belongings, your pride… I’ve accumulated all we have by working hard, so while my family are sheltering there, I’m guarding our house, day and night – people here are desperate so there has been a lot of looting.
It’s up to my landlord when the house will be fixed – but even when it is, I’m not sure how I’ll afford the monthly rent of PKR 20,000 [£80], as my fruit business has collapsed. I used to sell oranges, bananas, and apples from a cart, earning PKR 30,000 [£120] a month, but now there’s a shortage of fruit because of the floods, and anyway it’s too expensive for people to afford. A carton of bananas, which used to sell for £3, is now £7.50.
One option would be to take my sons out of school to run the business or stand guard while I run it, but I know they won’t stand a chance. The water has also become poisonous. My feet have fungus and are dry and itchy from constantly walking in the water.
But I remind myself that my neighbor’s house collapsed, killing his son. That could have been me, so I’m grateful to God – I remind myself to stay thankful and strong.
‘My children cried with hunger – the only consolation was to pray’
Ghulam Yaseen, 35, waiter
Lives in Jacobabad with his mother, his wife and their four daughters, Farzana, Ruksana, Sanam and Riana
The Yaseen family Credit - Zoral Naik
While I was busy rescuing my belongings during the floods, my boss fired me and hired someone else. I had worked as a waiter in a chai dhaba [tea shop] but now I have no income, no savings – I feel betrayed and disrespected.
The conditions are difficult: we didn’t receive goods or tents from relief workers until recently, so my family and I made a makeshift shelter using blankets. (It gets too warm in the daytime, so we only use it at night when it’s cooler.) The ration bags often don’t reach us either, as influential landlords often keep them for themselves or distribute them among people they choose. Sometimes relief workers give us plain rice to eat but it’s sporadic and sometimes we don’t know if we will eat at all each day.
When the floods first came, we went two or three days without food. There was water rising, no shelter, no way of starting a fire. My children cried with hunger – the only consolation was to pray. We managed to get some milk from the village buffalos but soon they died of starvation. So now we’re sitting here, waiting for help, trying to survive.
‘My wife is bed-ridden so when we evacuated I carried her on my shoulders’
Ahmed Zulfiqar, 55, former tailor
Lives in Jacobabad with his wife Tasleem and their three children, Taimoor, Firdous and Marina
My wife Tasleem has blood cancer and is bed-ridden, so when we evacuated, I had to carry her on my shoulders. Our house is submerged so I haven’t been able to retrieve our furniture or crockery. Lots of looting is going on – people are desperate and are taking whatever they can find from abandoned houses.
There are too many mosquitoes here because of the water; dengue fever is already on the rise. And the water is poisonous as it has mixed with sewage. A few days ago, we even saw a snake coming out of the water. We sleep in this constant fear.
It will take months for this water to drain out and the winter is coming; it gets extremely cold here and we don’t have any warm clothes.
Tasleem in the family shelter - Zoral Naik
Money is also a worry. I can’t buy my wife’s medicine, which was already expensive because of inflation. Some time ago, I lost my job as a tailor because my eyesight deteriorated – I started selling chickpeas and crackers in the neighborhood but then I had a stroke so now I rely on my son Taimoor, a construction worker. But at this point he can’t work because he has to protect the house from looters.
I’m not very hopeful about the situation and feel disappointed, helpless. But most of all I miss the comfort of home.
‘It was 4am, my wife and eight children were asleep, then I heard water rushing in…’
Asghar Ali, 38, cotton and rice farmer
Lives in Jacobabad with his mother Bibi Shereen, wife Hamida, his brother Shahid and his eight children, Farooq, Aman, Benazir, Shabeera, Shumaila, Jameela, Isaaq and Akhtar
Ali surveying the destruction - Zoral Naik
Seven days before these photographs were taken, rainwater started to accumulate in my area. It wasn’t enough to concern me but one morning, at 4am, when my family was asleep, I started to hear water and feel it below me. A stream and sewer had broken and overflowed, and the water was 2.5ft in our area.
I still remember the panic as people grabbed important things and rushed for land. My only priority was my children; my three-year-old son has polio so he couldn’t walk himself, so I carried him out. I left behind my belongings – beds, cutlery, crockery – and a lot of food, like wheat and rice, which is now lost in the floods.
Soon after we found dry land, a lake nearby was about to overflow due to water pressure. Desperate, we didn’t know what to do so we started reciting verses from the Qur’an to ask for forgiveness.
Two of Asghar Ali's children in a temporary shelter alongside their father - Zoral Naik
Today, my home is under 6ft of water. I’ve no savings and no work as the fields are destroyed, though my landlord is paying me a daily wage. I’m lucky to receive food from my landlord too, but we don’t have much else.
We’re living on the road – we’ve made a makeshift shelter using some material I found in a buffalo barn – but the heat in the day is unbearable, and there are mosquitoes at night. We try to burn wood to keep them away but it makes it hard to breathe.
‘When I last saw my house it was under 8ft of water – it has probably collapsed now’
Ghulam Haider, 45, taxi driver
Lives in the Turkish Colony area of the city of Dera Allah Yar with his wife Latifa Bibi, three daughters, Shabana, Farhana and Ramzana, and son Zeeshan
Haider with supplies to make a shelter - Zoral Naik
My family and I have been living on this dry strip of land since 23 August. Our house, deep in the fields of Dera Allah Yar, is now completely inaccessible. When I last saw it, there was 8ft of water – it has probably collapsed now.
In the early stages of the rain, I started to move things like my TV, washing machine, clothes, and the kids’ school supplies – but a lot of other belongings have been left behind and now the appliances don’t work. The schools are submerged, too.
Food rations don’t reach me as our shelter is tucked away from the main road. I’m heavily reliant on my brother, a barber working in the city, for money to keep the stove running. My friends are getting on with their normal lives, as their houses were on higher land.
One of Haider's children with salvaged possessions - Zoral Naik
For years I worked with different NGOs until a local landlord loaned me his car to start a taxi-driving business, but after the flood he took the car back and left the area; I lost my only income.
It’s ironic and disappointing that the NGO I used to work for helped to build houses for poor people, and now I’m the one in need but there’s no one to help. – The Telegraph
