Daily Times

Chiming “rain, rain, go away,” like a group of school children does not sound appropriate for seasoned politicians comfortably perched upon the red throne for years on end. There is no denying the vengeful streak of the monsoon season as mother nature does not wish to stop at any cost. But Pakistan has been on the receiving end of unprecedented torrential rain for far too long for the miseries of thousands to go unnoticed. Why did it take an unbelievable nine hundred people to be engulfed by raging waters for the sitting government to finally show some signs of action? Members of the Sindh government jumping aboard the hashtag bandwagon in solidarity with flood affectees have, sadly, found themselves in a position of weakness.

Where were they when their homeland was writhing in agony, desperate for any and all help? Still, no heartwrenching visuals of countless villages swept away have been captivating enough to take the limelight away from the bitter political struggle.

A deafening hubbub of rallies, press conferences, ceremonial pictorials and fuming television appearances has forced the biggest human catastrophe out of sight. Since there has not been any coordinated national response to fight off the natural calamity (the worse of which is yet to come), pinning hopes on the ruling elite to have done their homework for the upcoming dark and dreary winter would be akin to living in fool’s paradise. Thousands of acres of crops have been destroyed and a crippling shortage of nearly every kitchen essential lurks around the corner.

The agricultural heartland of Sindh is our major food basket and the vegetable prices have already started touching new highs. Buying onions and tomatoes at an eyewatering rate of Rs 250 and 200 per kilogram respectively sounds straight out of an apocalyptic novel. More depressingly, there’s no telling what would happen once the present stock gets consumed. The wheat harvest is down by nearly 20 per cent while losses to the major cash crop “white gold” amount to 45 per cent. Floods have turned an overwhelming 81 per cent of the date crop upside down.

Alarm bells can be heard ringing from afar as the questions about the capacity of a pinching-pennies county to import a wide array of produce hang heavy in the air. Would the political circus call it a day at least until we are in the clear? Or does the power struggle to reach the red carpet trump the miseries of millions whose mandate is the supposed lifeline of this dear democracy? *