|
|||||
|
Milk vendors on a waterlogged street in Kolkata. The more pressing concern of the flooding is the likely spread of water-borne diseases such as gastroenteritis, cholera and typhoid.
A CLEVER photograph could even make it look beautiful, a slightly seedy but still picturesque version of Venice, with water flowing where roads should be, and all the houses apparently rising from the muddy, swirling stream. Yet, the rains that inundated Kolkata in the last week of September brought not beauty but great inconvenience, distress and even acute misfortune to many residents. This was the third time in this monsoon season that heavy rain had brought the city to its knees – or, more correctly, brought knee-level water to large parts of the city. No doubt, this particular, almost continuous downpour over four days (September 22 to 25 ) was the most severe – totalling nearly 500 centimetre, reminiscent of the infamous floods of 1978 in the city. The flood waters surged through the city, especially the low-lying areas, and covered all the major avenues as well as the bylanes of the bastis. Naturally, there was huge dislocation, as vehicles could not ply the roads, commuters and office-goers found it impossible to return to their homes, essential journeys could not be made, necessary goods could not be delivered, and many houses, shops, offices and goods were damaged or destroyed. It is also true, of course, that not all “normal” behaviour was affected – in the midst of the worst inundation, gangs of youth waded out in most neighbourhoods, even in waist-deep water, waving Indian flags in “victory processions” to celebrate the Indian cricket team’s triumph in the T20 World Cup final. But still, with such heavy rainfall, it was perhaps to be expected that on the day of the most extreme rain many streets of the city would be flooded and normal life would be disrupted. What was not expected, however, was that several days after the rain stopped and the sun had been shining on the City of Joy, the submergence would continue in several areas and the water would continue to cover important roads and whole neighbourhoods. This was actually what happened. Until the end of that week at least, significant parts of the city – such as Behala and Ultadanga to name only two paras – were still completely waterlogged. The streets of Behala provided a new source of income to some who were able to catch fresh tilapia fish there to sell in nearby markets. But others, who were affected not only by the sometimes swirling and sometimes stagnant water but also by the associated disruption of electricity supply and the lack of clean drinking water, were less able to see anything but distress in their situation. Yet, the inconvenience caused by the closing of the roads and the lack of transport to move goods and people may be only the lesser part of the problem that the floods have created. The more pressing concern – and one that will be apparent only after some more time – is the likely spread of waterborne diseases such as gastroenteritis, cholera and typhoid. The problems this will create for a city that is already suffering inadequate public health infrastructure can only be imagined. But why should this extent of water-logging happen at all, especially in a city that should be used to fairly high levels of rainfall? Kolkata, like Mumbai, is known to experience bouts of excessive rainfall, if not annually then at least quite often, and as in Mumbai each time it seems as if it is something the municipal authorities are not prepared for. There are other unfortunate similarities between the two metros. Both have grown by covering up and building on formations that provided natural drainage for an area, in Kolkata’s case the Salt Lake area. And in both, recent urban expansion and the growth in population in newly settled areas has, remarkably, not been accompanied by systematic plans to expand the sewerage system. In this recent case, it is clear that along with the rain, the rising tide of the Hooghly river and, most of all, the choked and clogged drains of the city are to blame for the extended inundation of much of Kolkata. There was much talk on local television channels of how the use of polythene bags had clogged drains and prevented the free flow of water. Also, pumps that were to be used to pump out water from low-lying areas were too few in number, old and in need of repair. The issue of drainage, which is finally at the core of the problem in Kolkata, is in fact a major issue in most of our major cities. And it is that which makes what happened (indeed, is still happening) in Kolkata a pointer to what is wrong with so much of our urban planning across India – a relative neglect of basic issues such as sewage and sanitation. Despite many years and apparently large sums of investment, urban sanitation remains completely inadequate in India. Some estimates say that around one-third of urban residents do not have access to modern latrines, and therefore open defecation is still a common practice in all our towns and cities. Combine that with poor sewerage systems and infrequent clearing of drains because of inadequate expenditure on such maintenance. Given these facts, it may seem a miracle that we do not have even more widespread incidence of waterborne diseases. Even in the country’s capital city, which gleams with spanking new flyovers and shiny new malls, minimal sewage and sanitation facilities remain completely underprovided and entire slum settlements housing lakhs of people are not even provided anything at all officially. Municipal corporations, which are supposed to deal with these matters, are under-funded and perhaps not as motivated as they should be to ensure that these facilities are provided adequately and efficiently. What will it take to put this more firmly on the policy agenda? Water – and its management – can and indeed is being privatised, but this process and the lack of attention to sanitation are fraught with peril, because the rich can escape the adverse effects of this only for a short time. Sooner or later all of us will be affected – the sad thing is that it may take real calamities to make our policymakers realise this.
Printer friendly
page
(Letters to the Editor should carry the full postal address) Home | The Hindu | Business Line | Sportstar | Publications | eBooks | Images Copyright © 2007, Frontline. Republication or redissemination of the contents of this screen are expressly prohibited without the written consent of Frontline |