Pakistan is a country of paradox: a land of immense beauty and resilience, yet caught in a cycle of ruin. Every monsoon, the same story unfolds—rivers swell, towns submerge, millions are displaced. These are not merely natural disasters. They are the outcome of two interconnected pandemics: one born of domestic greed, the other of international injustice.
At home, our calamities are manufactured. Riverbeds and floodplains—nature’s natural buffers—have been recklessly converted into hotels, housing societies, and commercial plazas. These are not survival-driven encroachments by the poor but calculated profiteering by elites: politicians, businessmen, and state officials who collude to monetize ecological lifelines. Laws exist but are twisted to protect the powerful, leaving the vulnerable exposed.
This impunity is Pakistan’s first pandemic. It metastasizes in boardrooms and bureaucracies where greed outweighs governance. The cure is painful but clear: enforce zoning laws, remove encroachments, and hold accountable not the powerless but the powerful. A state that cannot protect its citizens from preventable disaster has broken its contract with them.
The second pandemic is not of Pakistan’s making. It is the climate debt owed by the developed world. Pakistan contributes less than one percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, yet ranks among the countries most vulnerable to climate change. The 2022 floods, which drowned a third of the nation and caused $30 billion in damages, were not born of our industrial excess. They were the legacy of two centuries of fossil-fuel-driven prosperity in Europe and North America.
This is why the COP27 breakthrough in Sharm el-Sheikh was so significant. For the first time, the world agreed to establish a “Loss and Damage Fund” to compensate vulnerable nations. It was a moral acknowledgment that those most responsible must support those most affected. But a fund without funding is a promise without purpose. The real test lies ahead: turning an agreement into action.
Here, Pakistan’s leadership must show resolve. Our climate and foreign ministries must press the case with persistence and precision, rallying coalitions of vulnerable states. Appeals to sympathy are not enough; what moves the world are facts, alliances, and moral clarity. Climate justice is not about charity—it is about reparations.
The question is no longer whether the developed world can afford to pay. The question is whether humanity can afford for it not to. If promises remain hollow, the price will not just be paid in Pakistan but across the globe—in rising seas, failed harvests, and displaced populations.
Pakistan’s struggle, then, is twofold: to confront corruption and impunity at home, and to demand justice abroad. Neither is easy, but both are essential. We must prove that we are not merely victims but a frontline state in the defining battle of our age: the fight for a just and livable planet.
If we confront greed within and press the world for accountability, tragedy may yet become resolve. If not, the waters will rise again, and history will record not only the floods but also the choices that allowed them to drown us.
