Water, Water Everywhere

Oct 10th 2007, Jayati Ghosh.
A clever photograph could even make it look rather 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 which inundated Kolkata in the last week of September this year brought not beauty but great inconvenience, distress and even acute misfortune to many residents.

This was the third time in this particular season that heavy rains 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 (22-25 September) was the most severe – totalling nearly 500 cm, 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 narrow by-lanes of the bastis. Naturally, there was huge dislocation, as vehicles could not ply the roads, commuters and office goers found that it was 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 finals.

But still, with such a major 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 would not be expected, however, is 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.

Yet 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 from the water 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 the power 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 water-borne diseases, such as not only gastro-enteritis but also 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 waterlogging happen at all, especially in a city that should be used to fairly high levels of rainfall? Like Mumbai, Kolkata also is known to experience bouts of excessive rainfall if not annually then at least quite often, and again like 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 the 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 for expanding sewerage systems.

In this recent case, it is clear that along with the rains, the rising tide of the Hooghly river, and most of all, the choked and clogged drains of the city were to blame for the extended inundation of much of Kolkata. There was much talk on local TV channels, of how the use of plastics and polythene bags had caused the drains to become clogged and prevented the free flow of water. Also, the pumps that were to be used to pump out the 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 what is 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 like 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 water-borne diseases.

Even in our 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 that are supposed to deal with these matters are under-funded, and perhaps not as motivated as they should be to ensure that these basic 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 from 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 policy makers realise this.

 

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