By Sardar Khan Niazi
Each monsoon season, the same distressing scenes replay across Pakistan’s major cities–Rawalpindi’s roads turn into torrents, Lahore’s underpasses flood within minutes, Karachi’s low-lying areas vanish beneath brown, disease-ridden water. Homes are submerged, lives are lost, and infrastructure wrecked–and yet, once the rains stop, so does the urgency. Urban flooding in Pakistan is no longer a seasonal inconvenience; it has become a chronic urban crisis. The real tragedy is not the rain, but the persistent failure of authorities to address a predictable disaster. From Karachi to Lahore, Rawalpindi to Peshawar, the story is the same: a dangerous mix of poor planning, unchecked development, and official indifference has turned natural rainfall into an annual catastrophe. Government agencies, including the National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA), continue to treat urban flooding as a natural calamity, beyond human control. Torrential rains may be natural, but the devastation they cause in Pakistan’s cities is largely man-made. Take Lahore–once known as the City of Gardens, has transformed into a sprawling mass of concrete, with little regard for environmental balance. Green spaces that once absorbed rainwater have been erased, replaced by housing schemes, commercial plazas, and asphalt roads. Natural drainage channels have been blocked by illegal constructions and encroachments. As concrete spreads, water has nowhere to go. Karachi presents an even bleaker picture. The city has witnessed catastrophic urban flooding repeatedly, yet its drainage infrastructure remains in shambles. Nullahs are clogged with plastic waste, encroachments have narrowed water passages, and essential cleaning of storm drains is often delayed until after the damage is done. When rainwater and sewage flow through the same overburdened pipelines, the result is not just flooding–but a public health emergency. In Rawalpindi, even modest rainfall is enough to flood streets and cause hours-long traffic jams. The city’s natural water channels, including Leh Nullah, are routinely clogged, and real estate development has swallowed large swaths of land once crucial for water drainage. Adding to this grim scenario is the growing threat of climate change. Pakistan is among the countries most vulnerable to climate disruptions. Monsoons are becoming heavier and more erratic, overwhelming drainage systems that are already antiquated. Melting glaciers in the north, altered rainfall patterns, and urban heat islands all contribute to a system under constant stress. But the solutions are well within reach–if there is political will. Urban planning must urgently prioritize flood resilience. Natural water absorption zones, such as wetlands, ponds, and green belts, must be preserved and restored. No more construction should be permitted on riverbeds or drainage channels. Future development must incorporate green infrastructure–permeable pavements, rooftop gardens, and rainwater harvesting systems. Second, cities need modern, separate sewage and stormwater drainage systems. These must be regularly maintained, with proactive cleaning schedules rather than last-minute emergency responses. Third, medium-sized water reservoirs and storage dams within and around urban centers could help capture excess rainfall. This not only mitigates flooding but also contributes to water conservation and clean energy generation through hydropower. Community participation is also vital. Citizens must be made stakeholders in flood prevention–discouraging plastic waste, avoiding dumping garbage in drains, and maintaining local green spaces. Awareness campaigns in schools, mosques, and local councils can play a powerful role. Finally, Pakistan’s disaster response framework needs an overhaul. Sending flood alerts and distributing small compensation packages is not a strategy but temporary relief. What is needed is coordinated, long-term planning across federal, provincial, and municipal governments. Urban flooding is not about the rain. It is about governance, policy, and responsibility. The rain will come again next year. The only question is: will we continue to be unprepared, or will we finally take action?”