Prologue: Local perception of floods
I remember, as a child, going to ‘see the floods’ was an
enthusiastically-looked-forward-to outing with my family. My city’s river Panchaganga,
lakes Kalamba, one of the sources of drinking water, and Rankala,
a major touristic sight, would be swollen with water after continuous hammering
of unforgiving rains throughout the monsoons. Indians revere the formidable
strength of the monsoons and equally relish in its pleasurable respite from the
preceding hot months. This fascination literally summons the whole city to ‘see
the floods’ at the confluence where the waters rise to meet the day-to-day
activities of the dry land. Close to the swollen waters and in safe distance,
street vendors lined up with a variety of fried snacks, knowing too well Indians’
love of eating hot, oily, fried foods (onion bhaji being one of the firm favourites)
while drinking hot, sweet, masala chai (tea) in the crisp, cool, wet
weather while listening to the pitter-patter of the rains. The atmosphere feels
like a street party where mostly everybody enjoys the weather while astute vendors
benefit from the economic opportunities brought on by the deluge. I am sure back
then too there must have been many families that lost houses and belongings,
businesses and crops that flooded and rotted, but the impact was either not
widely reported or not as severe, and it largely seemed that life carried on as
waters receded.
Preface: Journey to my home town
Reaching my home town, Kolhapur, in August 2019 proved to be challenging.
I was hoping to arrive by 6 August, however over the next ten days my family
daily updated me on the news of severe floods and incessant rains that made the
region entirely inaccessible. News channels were constantly reporting that this
was the worst flooding so far recorded in the area as river and flood levels
reached never seen before new highs. My family cautioned me from travelling immediately
for the fear of being stranded on road as the city and surrounding 204
villages, 324 bridges, 29 state highways, 56 roads and two national highways
became submerged under water.[i]
Reports estimated 18,000 vehicles were stranded for days on roads leading to
and past the city as the Army, Air Force, National Disaster Response Force
(NDRF), Coast Guard, State Disaster Response Force (SDRF), police and local
officials carried out rescue and emergency operations.[ii]
By the time I reached Kolhapur, a substantial amount of water had subsided from
the main roads, but it was heart-wrenching to watch my home town drown in troubles
following adverse impacts of the disaster. Over the next month, I hoped to talk
to some people to understand their experiences, concerns and their needs.
Kavitatai, a resilient kumbhar: Individual challenges
A few days after my arrival, I was walking past Kumbhar Galli (literally,
Potters Lane), which had been totally submerged under water. Alongside the busy
road, a hard-at-work kumbhar (potter) invited me in her front room that was her
home, her work place and her shop, and pointed to the ceiling, “that’s how high
the level of the water reached a few days ago.” I stood silently looking at about
3m high water-mark that was clearly visible on the walls behind her. Along the
entrance, small idols of Ganapti (Elephant God) were lined up ready to be
fired, and Kavitatai* was busy pressing clay and mud into a mould to create new
idols as she shared her experience. August is one of her busiest and most
profitable periods; this time sees one of the biggest festivals, Ganesh Chaturthi,
and her family’s livelihood during this period is exclusively based on crafting
and selling beautiful clay idols of Ganapati. She forlornly told me that carefully
crafted creations that were ready to be sold were all destroyed in the flood waters,
along with most of her crafting equipment that had now drowned or floated away.
She had one week only before the onset of the festival to try and make as many new
idols as possible. She hoped rather than believed that the last-minute idols
would, with any luck, make a decent income for the remainder of this year.
In spite of her sinking business prospects, she happily chatted
with me, being thankful to the local people that were supportive in the initial
phases and for the emergency relief packages distributed by the authorities and
the city’s many philanthropists. She pondered that any substantial monetary
support from the authorities will probably take months to reach them, and the
family could not possibly survive solely on the hope of this ‘potential’ support.
Kavitatai determinedly exclaimed, “we have to try and sell as much as possible,
that’s all we can keep doing, and that’s what we have been doing every time after
floods.” Let’s not forget voices following 2005 floods which reaffirm that the
people were left to fend for themselves as ‘the government did not provide
adequate support and follow-up.’[iii]
In spite of having lost her livelihood and with sinking hopes for her family’s
economic well-being, Kavitatai’s narrative asserted her and her family’s optimism
for life, and resilience to combat adverse impacts courageously. I often
wondered how her family made through the festival days, as in spite of promises
following the devastation to have subdued celebrations, the rest of the city welcomed
Ganesh for the next eleven days with great pomp and monetary extravaganza.
Padali’s hope for inclusivity: Leave no one behind
In the initial days, many locals along with social and
professional groups were involved in relief activities, and with one such
group, I visited a nearby village, Padali, about 15km from Kolhapur. Agriculture
being one of the main sources of income, the drive to Padali was idyllic; fertile
fields lined both sides of the road with tall kharif (monsoon) crops like sugarcane
and rice, dotted with massive mature banyan trees with long hanging aerial
roots that can reach the windshield as we whiz past. The scenery became picturesque,
especially in the monsoon season with little ponds glistening in the peeping
sunlight, wet bright green trees and delicate leaves of sugarcane and rice crops
swaying in the gentle breeze. As we
neared Padali, the fields were laden with water, and the rice and sugarcane
crops gleamed surreal golden yellow in colour. Sadly, with the ceaseless persistent
rains, the golden crops had nothing to offer the locals as their prolonged
exposure to water had rotted and destroyed the crops. With most of Padali under
water during the floods, livelihoods were threatened, and many houses had
collapsed, totally or partially. Emergency aid in form of medicines, food and
shelter essentials had arrived in large quantities.
We were welcomed by the community members, and the team distributed
relief packages. Since I was brandishing a camera, I was quickly surrounded by a
group of women who recounted their experiences. A middle-aged woman, Ashatai* invited
me to her small one-room home, indicated to her partially damaged house and timidly
asked, “can you help me in any way?” I could see the wall on the far side of the
small room had collapsed. She explained, “I am a widow with a young daughter and
no male family members nearby, so it’s difficult for me to make my voice heard.
Since my house has only partially collapsed, rehabilitation is not a priority
for the authorities. With two women alone in this damaged house, security and
privacy is a major problem for us.” The neighbouring women were supportive, and
clarified that the men were at the forefront of relief distribution and they were
usually not keen to listen to women’s issues. A couple of lanes down the road, number
of houses had collapsed; most reporters, politicians and important figures were
side-stepping areas with partial destruction and aimed straight for the
collapsed houses for strategic photo opportunities. Major rehabilitation support
was also concentrated towards these families as it meant better publicity for
the VIPs and the media.
Backdrop: Kolhapur flood facts
Kolhapur, a historic city with a population of 561,000,[iv]
has seen severe flooding in 1989 and 2005. This year about 30 people were
reported to have died, and an estimated 400,000 displaced in two districts.
People were moved into a mere 372 temporary camps and shelters,[v]
while a large number sought shelter in hotels, and with friends and family
living in safe areas. The city experienced large-scale destruction of some of
its main industries: agriculture, animal husbandry and diary. Electricity and
water supply were regularly cut off for hours through the day during and after
floods. In spite of the incessant rains, activists and environmentalists
claimed the floods to be ‘a man-made disaster’. Lack of robust regulation to
protect flood plains, massive construction activities in flood restricted zones,
encroachment of the river banks, all further leading to deforestation and sand
mining, were considered to be prime reasons. Authorities, planning departments,
and the construction industry have since been playing the blame-game as these causal
factors emerged.[vi] I
had the opportunity to discuss provision of shelter rehabilitation support with
a couple of philanthropists and they were ready with potential plans, but uninterested
to talk with local people to understand their needs that could highlight the most
appropriate infrastructure and support required by the community. Furthermore,
climate change is severely impacting India, and along with the cumulative
effects of inadequate laws, negligent planning requirements, reckless
construction decisions and corporate greed, people’s mental, physical and
economic well-being is severely being compromised.
Epilogue: Reflections
Emergency aid, though necessary, was at times surplus, unwanted
and wasted. The day-to-day necessary items were missed out, which meant that many
people found it difficult to get back to routine. Staggered relief proves a
good system where preference is given to the neediest, however there was no
evidence or knowledge at local level about authorities or other organisations
undertaking post-disaster needs assessments to understand the urgent and
long-term needs of Padali. There were also limited flood-proofing measures in
place or credible measures for the future. There was an urgent need to increase
awareness of the power of grassroots campaigning, especially for the benefit of
minority groups. In retrospection, due to my short visit, I too was unable to
substantially help the people I met, though I do know that few kind individuals
are still trying to assist the villagers to the best of their ability. The
people of Padali are highly vulnerable to floods and with limited resources and
capacity building, villages like Padali are being left behind.
As the frequency and severity of natural disasters increases, targeted,
sustainable and needful aid is essential to rebuild a strong equitable community,
especially when complex gender, economic, political, cultural and social perceptions
can sometimes become contributing factors in marginalising minority groups. Additionally,
reluctance to change construction activities, weak infrastructure, limited
forewarning, preparedness and preventative disaster risk and reduction
measures, ineffective coordination of humanitarian response, lack of motivation
to understand needs of a community, and limited interest in creating grassroots
development further proves likely to limit constructive growth for resilient
communities. Individuals and their immediate support structures emerge as the
most resilient, responsible and strong elements in these situations. To realise
equitable development, alongside raising awareness in individuals and local
communities, the authorities, humanitarians and the building community need to learn
from their past experiences, acknowledge local capabilities, take appropriate
measures to prevent severity of disasters, and support appropriate long-term
rehabilitation.
*Names have been changed to
protect their privacy.
Permission was obtained before
photographing all people, and duly advised that the photographs could be used
in posts and via social media.
Unless otherwise mentioned, copyright
for photographs belongs to Aparna Maladkar.
[i] News18. (2019). 1.32 Lakh Shifted
to Safer Places as Kolhapur and Sangli in Western Maharashtra Face Brunt of
Flood. [online] Available at:
https://www.news18.com/news/india/1-32-lakh-shifted-to-safer-places-as-kolhapur-and-sangli-in-western-maharashtra-face-brunt-of-flood-2262261.html
[Accessed 15 Nov. 2019].
[ii] Moneycontrol. (2019). Maharashtra
floods: Water recedes in Kolhapur, NH-4 likely to open. [online] Available
at: https://www.moneycontrol.com/news/india/maharashtra-floods-water-recedes-in-kolhapur-nh-4-likely-to-open-4321931.html
[Accessed 15 Nov. 2019].
[iii] Jain, S. (2019). As Maharashtra
floods yet again, residents of a village in Kolhapur gather what remains of their
lives - Firstpost. [online] Firstpost.com. Available at:
https://www.firstpost.com/long-reads/as-maharashtra-floods-yet-again-residents-of-a-village-in-kolhapur-gather-what-remains-of-their-lives-7163551.html
[Accessed 19 Nov. 2019].
[v] Moneycontrol. (2019). Maharashtra
floods: Water recedes in Kolhapur, NH-4 likely to open. [online] Available
at:
https://www.moneycontrol.com/news/india/maharashtra-floods-water-recedes-in-kolhapur-nh-4-likely-to-open-4321931.html
[Accessed 15 Nov. 2019].
[vi] Srivastava, K. (2019). Western
Maharashtra floods: A man-made disaster?. [online] Mongabay-India.
Available at:
https://india.mongabay.com/2019/10/western-maharashtra-floods-a-man-made-disaster/
[Accessed 14 Nov. 2019].