Tornado survivors struggle to get back on their feet

It’s been almost two weeks since a windstorm wrecked havoc in Bara and Parsa, two districts in the central plains. House roofs blew away; crops were destroyed. Around 30 people lost their lives, and at least 1,000 people were rendered homeless. The poor endured the brunt of the disaster.

 

The victims suffered throughout the night of March 31. When they saw a helicopter in the sky, a ray of hope emerged. But the chopper car­rying Prime Minister KP Oli did not land. Oli was there just for an aerial inspection. Unlike the chopper, aid did not arrive swiftly. Only on the fifth day were security personnel seen carrying out rescue opera­tions in Bharwalia, one of the most affected places in Bara. In one small settlement there, seven people had lost their lives, dozens were injured, and yet no help was forthcoming for four days.

 

When help finally arrived, well-dressed aid workers were found tak­ing selfies—even when victims were still crying next to their loved ones who lay dead. There was no one in the village to carry away the dead bodies. Now there is a steady stream of vehicles, big and small, ferrying in plenty of relief materials. Still, many victims are yet to get any help. There is a clear lack of coordination among government bodies.

 

“Aid has been politicized. Those with the right connections got relief materials from multiple agencies and hid them. But many real vic­tims did not get anything,” laments Arjun Patel, a local of Bharwalia. Another local, Sunita Yadav, says, “It’s been many days since the disas­ter struck, but real victims are still without decent shelter. Despite a steady stream of relief materials, it’s sad that most victims are still having to spend the night amid the ruins of their houses.”

 

Every year, the country is hit by one natural calamity or another. In the immediate aftermath, there is plenty of talk about disaster pre­paredness. But the talk soon fizzles out. The same pattern repeats when the next disaster strikes.

 

The provincial government announced Rs 300,000 aid package for each family that lost a member

 

Everyone should do their bit in a time of crisis. But what we saw in Bara and Parsa was a political tug-of-war. “We did our level best. Several officials from Kathmandu flew in for a while but did not coordinate with us. Provincial officials showed a bit more concern,” says Amiri Lal Prasad, chairperson of Feta rural municipality in Bara. “We are sad with the federal government’s delay in timely rescue and relief. But we are also pleased that Nepal Army has been entrusted with rebuilding houses for the victims.”

 

But Chandra Kishore, a journalist who follows Madhesi politics, is not happy about army deployment for construction. “Isn’t this a purely civilian task?” he asks.

 

“We have three tiers of elected government now. But the federal and provincial governments failed to coordinate well with the local bodies in carrying our rescue, relief and rehabilitation operations,” he says. Chandra Kishore added that the provincial government was too focused on distribution and the fed­eral government couldn’t resist the temptation to score political points. “The federal government should have declared a disaster zone and set up an office in Kalaiya [in Bara] headed by a federal minister. That would have helped get timely food and medicine to survivors.”

 

The provincial government announced Rs 300,000 aid package for each family that lost a member. Other political leaders announced financial help of their own, even as it remains unclear how this aid will be channeled to victims. The provincial government said it was disappointed the federal gov­ernment did not declare a day of national mourning.