The ordinary people of Pakistan have received dismal treatment in the past 63 years and the floods have presented us an opportunity for making amends.
Rehabilitation, reconstruction and rebuilding are likely to dominate our post-flood rhetoric. How these terms are understood and translated into action will determine whether Pakistan will emerge from this disaster as a transformed society, from one which is practically mediaeval in so many ways and whose people suffer from backwardness and misery.
The nature of the tasks ahead may be broadly divided into two categories: those requiring the use of brick and mortar, and, equally, those that are shaped by minds, hearts, attitudes and empowerment.
Tasks in the first category essentially fall in government domain. These are largely infrastructural in nature, relating to reconstruction of roads, waterways, embankments, dykes, irrigation schemes, housing, damaged schools, healthcare centres and miscellaneous government structures. The government will surely undertake these tasks, but the quality of the job done would reflect the quality of the individuals doing it.
The government failed to reopen the more than 7,000 schools already closed before the floods, in Sindh alone. It is unlikely to be able to rebuild the additional 10,000 schools devastated by the floodwaters.
Thus, there is a large window of opportunity for the civil society, the NGOs and philanthropic organisations. They could come forward with innovative approaches that go beyond the realm of physical reconstruction and focus on reforms, socio-economic restructuring and empowerment–and forever change the lives of the Pakistani masses.
Borrowing, collection and distribution of large chunks of money is often confused with good work–especially money received in foreign aid and loans, under fancy titles like “access to justice,” “capacity- building” and “poverty-alleviation”; they only alleviated the “poverty” of the consultants and programme managers. In the process, Pakistan has been reduced to a beggar state which can no longer decide, leave aside act, on its own.
Any new initiative on reform, restructure and empowerment must therefore adopt an approach based on at least four fundamental and clearly articulated principles: that we will not act as beggars to receive any foreign funding, charity, grant or loan; not work in a manner that makes beggars out of those who are the intended beneficiaries of the loans; we will encourage collaboration and partnerships between Pakistani groups and organisations; and, undertake no activity which does not result in people’s empowerment and improvement in their socio-economic situation.
We should stop falling for clichés like “model village,” “model school,” “model hospital” or “model women’s police station.” The Sharifs have already inaugurated a “model village” equipped with toilets, separate bedrooms for “maal maweshi” (i.e, cattle), and other nice things.
Much more of this gimmickry, accompanied by pictures of VIPs inaugurating these “model” institutions, will surface in the days to come. No new initiative should create one-time “models,” but should aim for long-term actions to promote skills, self-reliance, employability, economic opportunities, cultural changes, social development, tolerance for diversity, awareness of the rights of every citizen, civic behaviours and responsibilities, the ability to stand up to feudal and state injustices, indigenous application of alternative energy, preventive healthcare and sanitation and building environment-friendly communities.
The focus of development should shift from large, high-sounding, foreign-funded, donor-driven, almost-never-completed projects, to small, doable, indigenous, community-based, empowering and participatory projects that could have a meaningful impact on ordinary people’s lives.
Of course, the task of qualitatively changing the lives of a large population is far more difficult than making brick-and-mortar structures. However, this can be achieved if civil society groups and organisations are willing to venture into the flood-affected rural areas and build community-development centres.
Each of these centre could be built on 50 to 60 acres of land and serve many hundreds of adjoining villages. It could be equipped with a 10- to 20-bed secondary-care hospital, a mobile primary-care unit, a high school for boys and girls, an industrial home, a skills development centre, an industrial development unit for local produce, a teachers’ training unit, a community centre for arts, crafts and entertainment that uses the arts for the promotion of socio-political changes, a volunteer development unit for engaging local youths, a library, an adult literacy centre, playgrounds that host inter-village sports, a microfinance facility and residential accommodation for doctors, teachers, volunteers and other staff.
It could also have a technology development centre teaching new technologies for local applications. These could include water filtration and sanitation technologies, low-cost-construction techniques, recycling technologies, alternative energy technologies and technologies related to agricultural produce. These, and a host of other possible processes, could act as a catalyst for the much needed socio-economic change in Pakistan.
A powerful message of social equality can be delivered in these centres by making the landlord and the hari stand in the same queue. Hundreds of villagers, when they are exposed to dozens of such examples of good service, justice and equality, would begin to demand similar treatment in other walks of life as well.
A hundred such centres operating in each province could begin a rapid transformation of our society–a task just bricks and mortar can never accomplish.
