Photographing Pakistan’s catastrophic floods – The Washington Post

While passing by this rather overwhelming sight, I found it poignant that just two years ago I had written similar words warning of the effects of climate change for the Daily Telegraph.

In the summer, my country was hit by one of the worst natural disasters in modern history. Weeks of torrential rains led to the creation of a 100-kilometer-wide (62-mile-wide) lake in the heart of the country. Now, in September, a third of Pakistan lay submerged underwater. Where cars had driven down national highways just a few weeks earlier, we now meandered onboard small fishing boats for hours on end. These boat rides took us to families in marooned villages from where we could report back as to what had happened, and whether the humanitarian response led by the government, the military and other agencies was reaching those most in need.

Not surprisingly, most of the villages that no longer had road access had not received any aid yet. As our boat pulled up in front of one such village, you could see the crowd starting to gather on the shore. Since we were traveling along with an aid agency, our boats were filled with essentials such as wheat, oil and sugar, commodities that people hadnt seen since the start of the floods. Police personnel had to guard the workers as they distributed aid. Our boat almost toppled because of the chaos caused by people who were desperate to feed their loved ones. This was heartbreaking to see.

Many docking stations have emerged over the past month where boat operators are helping people commute and transport goods, often at a price that they cant afford. These docks have started to look like bus stations where operators are yelling the timing of the next boat being sent to an affected village. One evening I ended up at one of these docks, witnessing a funeral procession where the deceased was being transported by their loved ones on a boat. It was nothing short of surreal.

This also made me realize that the worst is probably yet to come, when the country will have to rehabilitate the nearly 33 million who are now displaced and left with no means of earning a dignified income. Most of the people I photographed were more concerned about their livestock than their own lives, and it was worrying to realize that the animals were mostly not going to survive.

By far, the most challenging part when covering this climate catastrophe was photographing young children in the hospital in Dadu, Sindh province, one of the worst-hit areas. As photographers, we are used to capturing misery and devastation. But few things are harder than having to photograph a young child who will most likely not survive the night.

People in despair often confuse photographers with aid workers. While we tell them the only way we can help them is by telling their story, one often questions if that is even true. The world is already forgetting about the climate carnage in Pakistan, a country that contributes less than 1 percent to the global carbon footprint yet is vulnerable to the worst climate disasters.

I hope this is a wake-up call for the rest of the world. Today, its Pakistan, but tomorrow it could be the entire world.

Saiyna Bashir is a Pakistani freelance photojournalist currently based in Islamabad. She works on international assignments for the New York Times, The Washington Post, National Geographic, The Telegraph, Wall Street Journal and others.