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t began with the low rumble of thunder rolling across the valley, a sound that villagers in district Khyber had heard countless times during the monsoon. But within minutes, the skies burst open in a deluge of rain unlike anything in living memory. Walls of water thundered down from the hills, sweeping away schools, homes, shops, vehicles, pet animals, fields and bridges in their path. In Peshawar, several thoroughfares turned into rivers, leaving citizens stranded as houses and markets filled with muddy floodwater.
“I am seventy years old. I have seen many monsoons,” says Haji Abdul Karim, a village elder in Bara. “But never in my life have I seen clouds bursting like this. It was as if the heavens themselves were getting torn.”
In the aftermath, more than 800 people across Khyber Pakhtunkhwa lost their lives. Khyber district was among the worst hit. Families mourned loved ones buried beneath collapsed homes. Farmers stood in despair over flattened maize fields and drowned vegetable crops. Herds of livestock, goats and poultry were washed away, robbing households of both food and income. Along roadsides, rusting shells of submerged vehicles stood as grim reminders of nature’s fury.
For many survivors, the pain was caused not only by the floods but also by the slow and inadequate response. The Provincial Disaster Management Authority and other government agencies, already stretched thin, failed to reach many remote villages.
In Landi Kotal, the community dug through debris with their bare hands to rescue survivors. In Peshawar, families trapped in flooded streets waved desperately for help as rescue boats arrived late. “We felt abandoned,” recalled Amina Bibi, a mother of four whose house in Buner had collapsed. “It was our neighbours, not the authorities, who pulled us out of the rubble.”
The devastation has raised troubling questions about Pakistan’s readiness to face an era of frequent extreme weather. Experts say what happened in the Punjab and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa is not an isolated tragedy but part of a larger climate crisis gripping the country. Ranked among the ten most climate-vulnerable nations despite contributing less than one percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, Pakistan has been battered repeatedly by extreme weather. From the catastrophic 2010 floods that displaced 20 million people, to the 2022 super floods that submerged a third of the country, to record-breaking heatwaves in Sindh and Balochistan, the nation’s climate narrative is written in disasters. The recent cloudburst in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa is just the latest chapter.
“This is climate change in action,” says Dr Qaiser Ali, a professor of civil engineering at the University of Engineering and Technology, Peshawar. “The intensity of rainfall has increased significantly, overwhelming natural and man-made drainage systems. Our infrastructure is not designed for such extremes. These floods cause devastation even in urban areas like Peshawar.” Climate scientist Dr Aisha Khan, the director of the Mountain and Glacier Protection Organisation, says that these floods must no longer be dismissed as acts of God. “They are human-induced disasters. Deforestation, unchecked urbanisation and construction on floodplains ensanger our lives. Combine this with climate change and the results are catastrophic.”
Stories from the ground reflect this grim reality. In Shalman valley, farmer Fazal Karim stood in waist-deep mud, staring at the ruin of his fields. “We had waited for this harvest to pay off our debts,” he says softly. “Now the crops are gone and the cattle too. How will we feed our children?”
In Peshawar’s Saddar Bazaar, shopkeeper Anwar Shah recalled watching helplessly as muddy waters swallowed his electronics store. “Within half an hour, everything was under swater. I had borrowed money for this business. Now I am ruined.”
For children, the trauma is heavy. At a makeshift relief camp in Buner, 12-year-old Saira clutched a broken doll she had salvaged from the debris of her home. “My books are gone, my schoolbag is gone,” she whispered. “Will I be able to go back to school?” Meanwhile, pink eye, skin and other diseases are spreading in the affected areas.
Experts say the destruction was worsened by poor planning and neglect of safety measures. Drainage systems in Peshawar city, already clogged with garbage, failed instantly when torrential rains struck. In rural Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, rampant deforestation had stripped hillsides of their natural flood barriers, turning rainwater into deadly torrents.
“Pakistan has not invested in climate-resilient infrastructure,” noted urban planner Engineer Farzana Gul. “We keep building roads, houses and markets in flood-prone areas, ignoring warnings. When floods come, it is the poor who lose everything. The rich move to safer ground.”
Disaster preparedness remains minimal. Despite multiple warnings issued by the Meteorological Department, several communities in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa reported that they received no timely alerts. With no evacuation plans in place, families were caught unaware. Experts insist that weather forecasts must be translated into clear community-level warnings. SMS alerts, mosque loudspeakers and local radio, they argue, could save thousands of lives.
The demand for climate-resilient infrastructure is louder than ever. Drainage channels, embankments and dams, especially Barani Dams, must be upgraded to withstand extreme rainfall. Instead of reacting with temporary relief camps after every disaster, Pakistan needs proactive adaptation measures that will protect vulnerable communities before disaster strikes. Natural defences also need urgent revival. Forests, wetlands and riverbeds act as shock absorbers against floods. Reforestation drives in Khyber district and KP’s hill tracts could significantly reduce the impact of future flash floods.
Local communities must be empowered. Rescue 1122 and civil society groups such as Edhi Foundation already play vital roles, but experts believe community-based disaster response teams involving community members can reach victims much faster than distant government bodies.
Farmers must be supported in climate-smart agriculture. Agronomist Saeed Ahmad explains that introducing flood and drought resistant crops, modern irrigation techniques and crop insurance schemes can prevent rural families from falling deeper into poverty after each flood. “Otherwise,” he warns, “every monsoon will push them further into hunger and debt.”
Beyond domestic reforms, many insist that Pakistan must also demand justice on the global stage. The country contributes little to global emissions yet suffers disproportionately. Dr Khan stressed that the government must lobby aggressively for climate finance from wealthy nations. “Communities in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa are victims of a crisis they did not create,” she said. “Justice demands compensation.”
While global aid is vital, the primary responsibility still lies with national institutions. The KP government must prioritise disaster preparedness in its budget, not just relief funds. The PDMA requires more trained staff, modern rescue equipment and better coordination with district administrations. Civil society can help bridge gaps by integrating climate awareness into health, education and development programs. Schools, in particular, should teach children not only about the dangers of floods but also about sustainable practices such as water conservation and tree planting.
“The government cannot do this alone,” says social activist Shazia Afridi. “It has to be an effort villagers, students, media, NGOs and policymakers join.”
For many, the 2025 floods may prove to be a turning point. For too long, climate warnings have been met with short-term relief campaigns and empty promises. If the destruction of several regions in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa pushes policymakers to take long-term action, the lives lost will at least not be in vain. Standing in the rubble of his collapsed home, Abdul Karim put it simply: “We cannot stop the rain and floods. But we can prepare for it. If we do not learn this lesson, the next flood may be even worse.”
The story of Khyber’s flash floods, the worst in 70 years, is not just about rain but also about resilience, neglect and the urgent need for adaptation. It is a warning that the climate crisis is not a distant threat but a present reality, reshaping lives and landscapes in Pakistan’s northwest. Unless immediate measures are taken, the next monsoon could once again turn skies into enemy, rivers into killers and communities into ruins. But with planning, unity and courage, the people of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa can transform this tragedy into the beginning of a climate-resilient future.
The writer is a freelance journalist and social worker