When floodwaters from across the Indian border submerged her village in Punjab this month, Shama knew exactly what to do: gather her four children and prepare to leave. It was the second time this year she had to flee, having first abandoned her home in May during cross-border fighting between Pakistan and India.
“How many times do we need to evacuate now?” the 30-year-old mother said, as her husband was away using a boat to move their 10 cows to higher ground. “We lost so much during the war, like school days for the children, and now the water is forcing us out again. Trouble is trouble.”
Shama’s experience is shared by many families in flood-hit Kasur, who are exhausted by being displaced multiple times in just a few months, first by conflict and now by nature.
“The floods started earlier this month and only got worse,” said 27-year-old Bibi Zubaida, who lives with seven relatives in a three-bedroom house across from a mosque that is now broadcasting evacuation calls. The mosque’s loudspeakers, usually used for the call to prayer, now deliver a different message: boats are ready for anyone who wants to leave. “When you live here, you choose to live with the threat of war and the threat of floods. Where does one go?” Zubaida asked.
Kasur is located just a few kilometers from the Indian border. From their rooftops and rescue boats, residents could see Indian checkpoints on the horizon, a constant reminder of how their fate is intertwined with decisions made on the other side. The two nations share rivers that were governed for over six decades by the Indus Waters Treaty. This agreement was suspended by India earlier this year after 26 people were killed in an attack that New Delhi claimed was backed by Islamabad, an accusation Pakistan denies. That attack led to brief but intense cross-border fighting between the nuclear-armed neighbors, forcing villagers like Shama to abandon their homes. Soon after, the monsoon arrived, and the rivers turned into floods.
On narrow wooden boats, families balanced motorcycles, belongings, and bleating goats alongside their children as rescue workers steered them through fields that had turned into rivers. Rescue worker Muhammad Arsalan noted that many villagers were hesitant to evacuate. “People don’t always want to leave because they’re scared of thieves stealing what they’re leaving behind. They’re reluctant because they’ve done it so many times already,” said Arsalan, who has helped over 1,500 people to safety by boat in recent days. “They love their goats and sheep, and sometimes refuse to leave without them,” he added.
So far, at least 30 deaths have been reported as floodwaters move further south through Punjab, threatening new areas. Pakistani officials stated the crisis was made worse by India’s decision to suspend the Indus Waters Treaty, which ended the long-standing exchange of river data. Islamabad also accused India of releasing large volumes of water without adequate warning. Planning Minister Ahsan Iqbal told Reuters, “If the treaty was in operation, we could have managed the impact better.”
Farmers say the deluge has ruined their livelihoods. “Thirteen of my 15 acres are gone,” said Muhammad Amjad, a rice and vegetable grower. “Women and children are mainly evacuated. Men stay behind to guard what’s left.” The back-to-back displacements highlight the extreme vulnerability of communities living along the country’s volatile eastern border.
Officials warn that the crisis could worsen as climate change intensifies monsoons and cross-border river disputes complicate disaster planning. “I’ve seen many floods, but they are coming too often now,” said Nawabuddin, a 74-year-old landowner, recalling the most significant floods he has witnessed in his lifetime: 1988, 2023, and now this one. “We don’t want war, we don’t want excess water. We just want to live,” said Zubaida, whose newly renovated home and farmland are now underwater.
