July 29, 2025
By Xari Jalil
LAHORE
Nearly three years after the catastrophic floods of 2022, the people of Sindh—especially in the districts of Larkana, Shikarpur, and Nawabshah—are still struggling to recover. A new report by South Asians for Human Rights (SAHR) exposes deep-rooted governance failures, discriminatory relief efforts, and ongoing human rights violations that have left many flood survivors in dire conditions.
The floods, triggered by unprecedented monsoon rains and accelerated glacial melt, were the worst in Pakistan’s history. Affecting over 33 million people, they killed more than 1,500 and destroyed 1.7 million homes. The economic cost was staggering: USD 46.4 billion in total losses and damage.
But for many, the disaster did not end when the waters receded. It merely changed shape—from the violence of nature to the slow violence of systemic neglect.
Lopsided Recovery and the Politics of Exclusion
SAHR’s fact-finding mission found that marginalized communities—landless tenants, women, persons with disabilities, and minorities—were disproportionately excluded from housing, aid, and recovery services.
In Nawabshah, embankments were allegedly breached to protect the lands of feudal landlords, allowing floodwaters to inundate poor villages. One such community, Usman Brohi, was never even visited by government assessment teams. As a result, it was left off beneficiary lists for housing, cash assistance, and agricultural support.
“Three years on, they have disappeared from the government’s view,” the report states.
Housing That Violates Dignity
The Sindh People’s Housing for Flood Affectees (SPHF) program—touted as a flagship recovery initiative—has drawn heavy criticism. Funded by the World Bank and implemented in partnership with local NGOs, the scheme promised climate-resilient housing. But in reality, it delivered 16×18 ft single-room structures, often lacking toilets, kitchens, or privacy.
In Shikarpur, a woman with a polygamous husband shared her experience of nine people living in one room. “There is no toilet, no place to cook. We are humiliated every day,” she told the mission.
Despite the official allocation of PKR 300,000 per house, survivors report actual construction costs nearing PKR 500,000, forcing families into debt or substandard living.
Those who attempted to rebuild on their own were punished for their initiative—excluded from official aid lists for acting too soon. “A one-room house is being sold as climate justice,” remarked one activist in Shikarpur.
Structural Violence, Feudal Roots
The mission paints a grim picture of feudal dominance in Sindh’s relief landscape. With Pakistan’s highest rates of landlessness and tenancy, the poor often lack formal land records, which disqualifies them from aid eligibility. In a province where power is deeply entwined with land, local landlords allegedly hoarded relief goods, manipulated beneficiary lists, and influenced local bureaucracy.
An interviewee from Nawabshah described how landlords “held the aid and stored it, and when it started spoiling, they threw it.”
The Goth-Abad Act, meant to regularize land for informal dwellers, had distributed only 10,000 land titles by mid-2024—barely a dent in the millions left vulnerable.
Women Bear the Brunt
Gender-based inequalities were particularly stark. The centralization of relief in urban offices meant women had to travel long distances, often needing male escorts due to cultural norms.
Many slept overnight in banks or administrative compounds, having sold personal possessions just to afford the trip.
In Allah Dad Jagirani village in Shikarpur, pregnant women died trying to reach hospitals because roads were washed away. One woman, in obstructed labor, died en route after being carried on foot for four kilometers.
Without sanitation infrastructure in SPHF houses, women were forced to dig pits and man
ually dispose of waste—gross violations of health and dignity.
Children and the Forgotten Generation
Half of Sindh’s schools were damaged or destroyed. Many remain non-functional, especially in rural areas. A teacher in Nawabshah said, “Children sit on bare floors with no books, no shoes, no desks.” Girls have suffered the most: pulled from school to help with housework or married off early, their futures washed away with the flood.
Widespread malnutrition, disease, and school dropouts now haunt what could be a lost generation.
A Debt-Funded Recovery
Despite Pakistan contributing less than 1% of global greenhouse emissions, the country’s recovery relies heavily on loans, not grants. The World Bank pledged USD 2 billion, and the Asian Development Bank added another USD 400 million in concessional loans—with interest.
This raises serious questions of climate justice. “The people who caused the climate crisis are not the ones paying for it. The victims are,” the report states.
The loans will be repaid through higher taxes and fewer services, placing the financial burden on future generations—what the report calls “intergenerational injustice.”
Governance Gaps and Bureaucratic Barriers
Pakistan’s disaster management system, comprising the NDMA, PDMA, and DDMAs, is plagued by fragmentation, poor coordination, and bureaucratic inertia. In Dhand village, Larkana, flood survivors said they were sent from one office to another, with no one taking responsibility.
The Supreme Court itself acknowledged the failings in Sindh’s relief efforts, calling them “neither sufficient, nor effectively managed.”
What Needs to Change?
The SAHR report concludes with a sharp call to action:
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Reframe recovery funding as climate reparations, not charity
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Incorporate human rights standards into disaster law and planning
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Reform feudal land structures and provide titles to the landless
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Develop climate-resilient housing that respects dignity and privacy
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Center women and vulnerable groups in decision-making
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Replace loans with grants from the Global North, which holds 92% of historical responsibility for emissions
Until then, the people of Sindh remain not just displaced—but deliberately failed.