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Simon Roughneen, Sunday Independent, 11th December 2005
As we await Christmas, millions made homeless by the earthquake
await a merciless winter, says Simon Roughneen. The drive across
Azad Jammu and Kashmir would ordinarily be a compelling experience
for any traveller. The 10,000 foot-high Himalayan foothills provide
a backdrop of stunning beauty. Pine trees cover the rocky slopes,
and in the horizon, the snow-peaks of the Karakorum and Himalayas
emerge between the lower peaks in this desolate area of northern
Pakistan.
But these snow-peaks are a harbinger of a different reality for
northern Pakistan. What Kofi Annan terms ‘the merciless Himalayan
winter’ has arrived – with snow on densely-populated
higher ground, hundreds of cases of pneumonia, and children already
dying. Another harbinger. On Tuesday 6 last, the Pakistani met office
forecast an even harsher than usual winter for Kashmir and the northern
areas.
Ireland and Europe felt the snap of winter in recently. Snow caused
disruptions to a part of the world blessed with sophisticated infrastructure,
modern transport and communications facilities, and a much-vaunted
social economy. Sadly, deaths of homeless people were reported in
Paris and Brussels.
In Northern Pakistan, most people do not even have a house now.
And the winter that has just started will make Europe’s recent
wintery spell look like a rough autumn day by comparison.
Since the October 8 earthquake, over 3 million people have been
contemplating how to survive the imminent harsh winter, where the
snow in the distance will soon become anything from 4-10 feet of
snow outside their tents and makeshift shelters.
During a three hour drive from Bagh, where 75% of buildings were
destroyed, to Muzafferabad, scene of 90% destruction, we saw countryside
of almost ethereal beauty. However just about every building within
view has been ruined.
This same countryside will be covered in snow in days. Temperatures
will drop to minus 10, maybe minus 15 degrees Celsius. Many roads
will be impassable.
And time is running out. The challenges for relief and humanitarian
organisations, and more importantly, for the hundreds of thousands,
if not more, who remain vulnerable, will be as insurmountable as
some of the Himalayan peaks in the background.
Despite their predicament, despite the uncertain future, these
people remain resilient, dignified and resourceful. Not to mention
friendly and gracious. Visitors are inundated with offers of chai,
the local sweet tea often made with freshly-drawn buffalo milk.
Khaled Mahmoud, an elected representative in the district of Pader
Mastu, near the city of Bagh, told us that ‘we Kashmiris are
grateful to the international community, the people of Ireland,
to aid agencies for helping us in our time of great sorrow’.
Mahmoud lost his wife and four of his five children in the earthquake.
Kashmiris have lived in this area for centuries, and know what
is needed to survive. When we deliver vital food and shelter items
to the needy, they know what they need to survive. And they know
that it is not going to be enough as things stand.
Vast pledges to the tune of US$5.4billion were made at a donor
reconstruction conference two weekends ago. But this money is mostly
for rebuilding infrastructure and livelihoods after the winter.
It is also just pledges, not hard cash handed over.
And while rebuilding is of course necessary, what use is pledging
over US$5 billion to rebuild, when there is not enough money to
save lives now?
To put things in perspective, the life-saving relief resources
sought by the UN amounts to 10% of the money promised for reconstruction.
Only 35% of the life-saving relief money has been handed over.
Thus the snow promises little but imminent death to those who cannot
get adequate shelter. It is estimated that between 350,000 and 380,000
people will remain at their home areas above 5000 feet. They need
enough winterised shelter – tents, corrugated iron sheeting,
tarpaulins. The UN and the International Organisation for Migration
believe that up to 80% of tents in use will not handle the harsh
winter.
So send them down the mountains to camps, you might say. But people
are constantly telling us of their attachment to this area, to their
homeplace, their land, their livestock.
And this is not just sentimentality. If people congregate in camps,
the challenges posed by the winter will be compounded by communicable
disease, social tensions, and domestic and sexual violence. Life
will be tough enough for these people as things are.
GOAL is delivering a variety of shelter materials to village areas
at heights of up to 7200 feet, part of an overall programme to feed
and shelter over 7500 families. The idea is to allow people to remain
in their home area if possible, if they wish to do so.
As Mohammed Iqbal, who lost his wife and 2 daughters in the earthquake
said, ‘If we have enough shelter, tents, blankets, tin sheets,
we can manage’. There is timber available in the tree-adorned
slopes, and sadly, from collapsed homesteads and buildings.
However, that ‘if’ applies to so many people, and with
the slow response and continued lack of funding of the relief effort
generally, now is really a big ‘if’ for many of the
vulnerable.
Some people have access to other homegrown foodstuffs to complement
the flour, oil, pulses that they receive from agencies. However,
the need to preposition food stocks for higher areas that will be
inaccessible remains pressing, and combined with the cold, malnutrition
will heighten the risk of disease, especially among the young and
the elderly.
But there are too many ifs. Too much left to chance for so many
people. Left to chance because the world has not provided for them
in their time of need.
As we move into the Christmas season at home, we will recall the
emotional outpouring of giving that came about with last years’
tsunami.
We need a similar outpouring now. Otherwise we will see in our
Christmas and New Year with another spate of images of human suffering
from a faraway place. Only this time we will know we had ample opportunity
to avert the catastrophe. That time is now.
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