Another disaster happened, this time in the Ghizer Valley of Gilgit-Baltistan.  Homes, schools, and bridges were destroyed in villages and farms by a glacial lake outburst flood.  More than 300 families were impacted, but lives were spared because of the prompt action of a shepherd named Wasiyat Khan, who sounded the alarm in time.  Together with the help of neighborhood volunteers, his valiant action made sure that residents could leave before the waters flooded.  This narrative also exposes a depressing reality: the weight of survival and rescue is frequently placed on common people rather than the government. In an effort to repair a water pipeline that the government had repeatedly pledged to fix, inhabitants of Danyor, GB, paid with their lives earlier this month. 

During the recent intense rains in Karachi, too, stranded residents had to rely on one another while government rescue operations seemed dreadfully lacking.  In Ghizer, locals had already finished the task themselves when the army was called in for helicopter rescues, demonstrating how communities are compelled to rely on themselves in times of danger. So, should people stop believing that the government can keep them safe?  Although it is a risky question, the government cannot afford to overlook it.  Despite the incredible resilience exhibited by communities in climate-vulnerable areas, it is unacceptable that they are left to fight for themselves against natural forces that are becoming more devastating every year.  This is most evident in the growing frequency of GLOFs, which are happening alarmingly frequently throughout Great Britain and are caused by rapid glacial melt and rising temperatures.  Every explosion turns into a game of chance with people’s lives if there are no efficient early-warning systems, disaster-resilient infrastructure, or prearranged evacuation procedures in place. Investment in community-based rescue training, strengthened roads and bridges, dependable water and electricity infrastructure that can endure floods, and real-time glacier monitoring must be the state’s top priority. In a Pakistan under climate stress, these are essentials, not extravagances.

While the expenses of being prepared may be significant, the costs of doing nothing are already evident and far higher. The only defense that citizens should have against tragedy is heroism. Pakistan cannot keep depending on volunteers, bereaved families, and herders to handle disasters. The state must uphold its obligation to safeguard its people by investing, acting, and having foresight. The people of Gilgit-Baltistan and other remote regions deserve more than promises and post-disaster condolences. They deserve a system that recognizes their vulnerability and invests in their safety. The story of Wasiyat Khan is an inspiring one, but its underlying message is a call to action. It’s time the government took on the burden of its responsibilities, so that the heroism of ordinary people becomes a choice, not a necessity.