There was so much pain in his voice that my own throat tightened. Tears welled up in my eyes. And this wasn’t just one call, there were dozens of such messages, each crying out from the flood-affected regions. Each message carried the same grief, the failure of the state, the apathy of federal ministers, and the cold indifference of public representatives.
At Abdul Hakim, along the River Ravi, a protective embankment near ‘Mai Safuran’ was deliberately breached to save the Head Sidhnai barrage. The breach is massive, half a kilometer wide and over 40 feet deep. And yet, no serious effort has been made to plug this gap. The River Ravi has carved a new path for itself.
As a result, floodwaters have spread far and wide, reaching Tehsil Pir Mahal in District Toba Tek Singh, Tehsil Kabirwala in District Khanewal, and even Tehsil Shorkot in District Jhang. If this breach remains open, nothing will be left of these regions.
In Toba Tek Singh alone, 14 villages have gone under, 12 in Khanewal and 10 in Jhang are now submerged. Dakhana, Jarrala, Ghagh Bar, Kot Islam, Fazil Shah, entire settlements are lost. Homes have vanished. Crops have been wiped out.
The Mai Safuran breach still gapes open, unleashing devastation across the land. The floodwaters have traveled as far as District Jhang, 85 kilometers away from Head Sidhnai. Water is flowing over rooftops now. In some places, the flood level has risen up to 10 feet.
Federal Minister for Defence Production, Barrister Raza Hayat Harraj, has said the embankment cannot be repaired until the river’s water level drops. Ironically, he’s the same minister accused of orchestrating this diversion to save his own lands, allegedly at the expense of poor villagers, their homes, and their livelihoods. Some claim that more water could have safely passed through Head Sidhnai, but the breach was made hastily on his orders.
Raza Harraj denies these allegations. Meanwhile, experts argue that the River Chenab couldn’t absorb Ravi’s floodwaters. When water started flowing back, pressure built up at Head Sidhnai, prompting the breach. Had it not been done, the city of Abdul Hakim, including a military cantonment would have been overwhelmed.
So, while Abdul Hakim was saved, the village of Dakhana was sacrificed to the fury of the flood. Fields were ravaged, homes destroyed, lives uprooted. Where once green fields danced in the wind, now only mud and debris remain. Entire villages have been erased from the map. The only thing visible is destruction, desolation and tears.
This is nothing short of doomsday. The screams pierce the soul. The fields once a testament to the toil of farmers are now mirrors of ruin. The hands that once sowed seeds are now raised only in prayer, empty and trembling. The women once the heart of their homes now sit exposed under the sky, their eyes speaking volumes in silence, their tears the only voice of their sorrow.
This devastation will be remembered for generations. This flood didn’t just bring water, it carried away dreams. It stripped away dignity, comfort, and peace. Everywhere you look, there are cries and wails. Someone laments, “I’ve lost everything.” Another weeps, “My home, my world, is gone.” And some sit in silent shock because even words have abandoned them.
That silence says everything. The soil of Punjab bears witness, this was not just rain, it was a tragedy born of negligence and misjudgment. A disaster rooted not only in nature but also in human failure. It didn’t just drown land, it drowned hearts, hopes, and humanity.
And some wounds, no matter how much time passes can never heal.
