SITTING beside the dirt road leading out of Chhachhro taluka, Tharparkar, 28-year-old Sukho is ready to migrate for eight months.

Surrounded by his family, he says: “Migration was earlier a way for men to sell newly cut crops and wait for the cotton-picking months of June and July. Now, it’s our only option to stay alive.”

As a result, men are now shifting their entire families to various talukas and villages across Sindh. “My biggest fear when I’m out making a living is, what if my family dies while I’m gone,” he says.

“Because I know for a fact that there’s nothing to eat in my village any more.”

Sukho and his family walked for two days from Naharo Bheel village to get to Chhachhro and are now on their way out of here, too. His mother speaks up: “I’ve seen three droughts in the past 50 years but this is the worst.” Sukho’s wife has already been shifted to a village in Sanghar district named Bhairani. “Only 50 people are left in my village,” he says. “So far, 450 families have left.”

Tharparkar was recently in the news after a policy on the drought was finally passed in the provincial assembly. Its main features were disclosed during a press conference in Karachi by Pakistan Peoples Party MPA Sharjeel Memon.

According to data shared by the medical superintendent at the rural health centre in Chhachhro, up until March, the number of dead — mostly children — stood at seven. But NGOs say the number is much higher. Ali Nawaz, the social mobiliser with an NGO named Aware in Chhachhro, says, “Government-run hospitals only quote deaths that occur on their premises. They don’t count the children who die in basic health facilities and dispensaries. According to our data, 112 deaths had occurred till March.”

On the main road leading towards Chhachhro, which is the most affected among the six talukas in Tharparkar, signs of drought are hard to ignore. There have been ‘mass migrations’ in the recent past and present, officials say. Families can be seen on the main highway leading to Umerkot and Mithi, some walking, some huddled together on camels or on top of Suzuki pickups. Carcasses of dead livestock can be seen lying on the roadside.

“This year has been the worst in terms of rains,” says the senior programme manager at Thardeep, Dr Ashok Bakhtani.

“Thar has been completely dry so far. And even if it rains it will have zero impact on the dying crop, and the livestock around Chhachhro.” He adds that this year’s drought reminds him of the one in 1987. “It was called ‘Karo Dukkar’ meaning black drought,” he muses. “It was the same situation: malnutrition all around, livestock dying, people migrating as a result. The problem is that the government sees it as an isolated challenge.”

This time around, news channel vans are not parked outside the only rural health centre in Chhachhro. The medical superintendent terms the lack of rain first “hype created by the media” and later “a fact which scares us because of the impact it will have in the coming months.”

Removing a white skullcap from his head, he lights a cigarette while explaining how “drought and malnutrition are not connected. I’ll tell you what it is,” he says. “It’s a way of earning extra resources for NGOs or readership for a struggling newspaper. The facts on the ground are different. Till March this year, only one death was reported in our hospital.”

Explaining that the data for the remaining months is in the process of being compiled, he adds that most deaths that occur in Thar are because of a host of problems the area is faced with. “These include multiple pregnancies, premature deliveries and the lack of proper nutritional intake by residents, resulting in various diseases. Malnutrition is not the only cause of death here.”

Back in Umerkot, Mohammad Siddiq, representing Aware, insists the situation is very different from what it was before. “It took countless meetings to convince the provincial officials that there is a problem in Thar. Chhachhro and a newly made taluka, Dahali, are among the worst affected when it comes to malnutrition and drought. Thirty-one people committed suicide this year, the reasons being the lack of financial resources as well as food shortages.”

Dr Ashok links the present situation in Chhachhro in particular and Thar in general to the need for introducing “long-term solutions on an emergency basis”.

“If it doesn’t rain the crop won’t grow,” he explains. “If the crop is not sold, how will a family that relies financially on livestock continue to feed it? Even livestock that survives the drought is useless for a farmer, because it won’t be able to breed and will eventually die. This situation won’t go away by itself.”

He adds that “the situation is critical, more than it was before, even though facts were indeed exaggerated earlier. By the end of last year, it hadn’t rained in five out of 17 union councils in Chhachhro. A hue and cry was made. This time around, it didn’t rain in any of the 17 union councils of Chhachhro, and yet there is no hue and cry.”

Dr Ashok says that in the long term, it might cause an irreparable damage to the land and the people. “The situation requires us to listen to a hari or a kisaan for a change.”

Published in Dawn, August 31th, 2014