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am unable to breastfeed my child,” says Nageena, who is sheltering at the Sher Shah Girls High School, where a relief camp has been set up by the government for those displaced by the latest floods. Tears trickling down her face, Nageena cradles her 8-month-old daughter in her lap. She says that her infant daughter needs to be fed formula milk. Sitting against a wall in a classroom, Nageena says she has been at the camp for five days now, with her four children.
“My husband is in Islamabad trying to make a living. I am here alone with my children. My older ones can eat regular food, but what about my baby? My baby needs milk every other hour but the camp staff tells me they have already given me milk once and that I should come back in five hours. How am I to live this way?”
“I’m not blaming anyone. Maybe this is our fate. Even if we have lost everything, aren’t we still humans. Don’t we deserve dignity?”
“Every time I have to ask for milk for my baby, it feels like I am a beggar,” she says.
At one point, Nageena attempted suicide but was stopped by police officers on duty. Later, she was transferred to another camp and provided with emotional support.
Speaking to The News on Sunday, Zahid Iqbal, the Multan Saddar assistant commissioner, says that currently there are 400-450 people at the Sher Shah flood relief camp. Out of those, he says, 200-250 are children. “We are now providing 200 cans of formula milk a day for children,” he says.
Nageena’s story is just one among many in the flood relief camps of Multan. Those sheltering here have been forced to leave their homes in the flood prone areas near the Chenab River. The greatest challenge for them is adjusting to a new reality.
138 villages in Multan district have so far been designated as ‘sensitive.’ Throughout the division, which includes Multan, Khanewal, Lodhran and Vehari districts, more than 500,000 people have been displaced. Many of them are living outdoors. Having evacuated their homes just before the floodwaters arrived, they moved to higher ground and have established temporary shelters on their own.
According to the administration, 90 relief camps have been established across the division. Recent lists count 364,000 affected people in Multan. The city has 25 camps, which currently accommodate 7,862 residents, many of them women and children.
Parveen is eight months pregnant. She arrived at the camp two days ago. “It wasn’t easy for me to leave my home and come here,” she says. “I don’t know what lies ahead. I’m scared. If something happens to me, will there be help? What kind of life will my baby have?”
While thousands of people have taken shelter in government-organised camps, many others have refused, choosing instead to stay under the open sky.
In the Sher Shah area, residents of Navi Basti have chosen to move to an embankment instead of staying in the relief camps. Some say their experience of the devastating 2014 flood still haunts them.
“Every time I have to ask for milk for my baby, it feels like I am a beggar.”
Back then, too, most people had moved to this embankment, where they continued to watch their homes get flooded before their eyes.
Tahira Bibi, who lost her husband six years ago, is raising her children on her own. Her daughter who suffered a leg injury in an accident is in need of constant care. During the latest emergency, she has remained her main concern.
“Some police officers came and threatened us, telling us to pack up and go to the camps. I told them that in 2014, we were here on this same embankment. We want to stay with our belongings.”
The Chenab flood of 2014 was the most devastating in Multan’s history. The flow had peaked at 650,000 cusecs and displaced over 116,500 people from 121 villages. Thousands of houses, crops, livestock and infrastructure were destroyed. Tahira Bibi’s village was among those affected.
“Over the last ten days, I’ve had to move my belongings thrice, from the embankment to my home and then back again. I’m a woman with young children. How much more can I endure? I need the assurance that my belongings will be safe.”
“What hurts the most is the attitude of the administration,” she says. “They said, ‘Pick up their children and move their beds into the camps. They’ll follow, crying after them.’”
The authorities have their own concerns.
Cantt Division SP Kainat Azhar says the biggest challenge the police are facing is persuading people to evacuate. “On the ground, we are trying to explain to people the absolute need for evacuation,” she says. “We ask them what use are their possessions if they are unable to protect their lives once the waters inundate everything.”
Cultural norms, too, pose a huge challenge.
“In some villages, male family members are reluctant to let their female relatives be rescued by male police officers,” says SP Azhar. “We understand the norms but sometimes we don’t have sufficient female police officers to rescue women. We then have to ask our male colleagues to do the needful… at times like these, we have to ask what is more important here.”
SP Azhar says that the police are instructed to speak compassionately to the people while asking them to evacuate. At times, they also offer counselling and assure the affected people that the police will look after their houses and possessions.
“When nothing works, and some people are adamant to stay in their houses even as water levels are rising, we have to enforce the evacuation orders.”
As water level in the Chenab River rose, residents of Basti Chakkar Waali were forced to leave in a hurry. They could carry nothing except their children.
Reshma was among them.
She sits quietly on the embankment. With a dupatta over her bowed head, and her 11-day-old baby in her lap, Reshma is unprepared for the harsh realities surrounding them. As the baby opens her mouth in the hope of some milk, Reshma’s eyes stay focused on her.
After her C-section, Reshma is struggling to breastfeed. Her body lacks the strength to nourish her baby. They lack access to formula milk.
“Has our life become a spectacle? People, including the media, come and turn our suffering into a show.” Reshma’s husband, expresses his frustration. “We are going through an extremely tough time. We deserve empathy. Sitting under the open sky isn’t our choice; it is the only option. Every year, we find ourselves in the same situation.”
The writer is a freelance multimedia journalist in Multan.