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I wrote this article after finishing hours of hard
work of clearing and cleaning debris that was left
lying in our compound after a sudden flood subsided
and the hoopla bola settled down. I had also taken
time to dry household goods and gadgets. It is
interesting to note that some of us rarely realise
that we can coexist with abundant disposable
materials like obsolete and abandoned hardware and
crockery, not to speak of clothing and footwear,
papers and documents that we hardly recognise what
information they carry.
I noticed that the worth of the record setting rain
that had fallen in a span of two short hours last
Monday night, was unmatched by the downpour that
fell over the last two long months or so. Calamities
and natural disasters seemed to me events that
happen somewhere in distant places very far away
from my orbit. Occurrences and stories I only read
on papers or heard about from newscasts were
encounters that were only met by other people. It
never crossed my mind that I am only one rainy night
from the floods of England, the hurricanes across
the Atlantic or the earth tremors in the Fuji
islands. Natural disaster can take place any where
at any time.
It is only normal to quote the saying 'It rains cats
and dogs' more often during this month of the year.
Not so for what rained last Monday midnight around
the northern part of the capital though. Metaphor
aside, it literally rained hail stones beyond my
living meteorological memory of six or so decades.
At midnight, I woke up to go to the toilet only to
discover that I had to wade through water to know
that I was trapped in my own home by the flood that
surged beneath the door and reached four inches high
soaking furniture and all. My sandal shoes were
floating around.
When I opened the corridor door and looked out, I
could see that the whole neighbourhood was awoken
and lamenting and shouting on what was happening in
our compound which was surrounded by a masonry wall
that was supposed to be water-tight except for the
small opening at the end of the drainage ditch. This
opening is oftentimes blocked by debris that
prevents the smooth flow of surface water. Foreign
materials brought from the neighbourhood were
floating and whirling round. The road outside our
compound was virtually turned into a river that runs
down like a normal stream.
Last year's incident that took place in Dire Dawa
came to my memory box. The saying that goes to the
effect that it is he who wears the thorny shoe that
knows where it pinches was asserted by what I saw
and experienced. It was like a journey to hell and
back so to speak.
The next morning, Jemberu, a friend of mine phoned
to console me and express his concerns. He told me
that he too had his share of ordeals albeit their
simplicity. His village was in a blackout owing to
the collapse of the transformer poles that were
unable to resist and withstand the torrent. The
power cut took over 15 hours before it was
reinstated.
The heavy downpour had started showering around 10
pm local time and lasted only two hours. But it was
so strong that I thought the whole load of water was
falling down altogether.
Early in the morning we went out to see the impacts
sustained in the neighbourhood. Several homes and
kitchens were swept down in many areas. A few
families living near the embankment of the Ketchene
River were left without food and clothing as their
stocks was washed down. Reports that were received
in due course revealed that there were some death
tolls in areas where the floods hit hard.
There was also a heavy loss of property although
unquantifiable in Birr and cents. This kind of
exposure is a sort of taboo in our society. People
either underestimate or exaggerate their worth
depending who is listening to their stories.
Apart from the dark and pregnant clouds hovering
overhead earlier in the evening, no substantial
warning of gashing water or flooding rivers in Addis
were heard of in advance to save lives or minimise
the loss of property. Nor did the devastation win
the sympathy of the media until the next evening's
news hours.
We know that the rainfall trend in the country in
general is erratic and unpredictable to say the
least. Weather forecasting does not hold much in
this country. Sometimes people do not know whom to
believe, the weatherman or the ears of a running
donkey?
When many parts of England were flooded recently by
torrential rains of unprecedented amount Prime
Minieter Gordon Brown paid visits to several sites
while mobilising millions of pounds to help the
affected population never mind the various parties
and institutions.
Did our caretakers care so much?
As if by some natural irony, many homes did not have
a sustainable supply of drinking water for several
days before the flood hit. On Monday night however,
we were surprised to get some nocturnal supply of
tap water for a short while as if to let us clean
our remaining belongings.
We do not speak of transport or power interruptions
or even ensuing insurance expenses in this country
in times like this. In Addis Abeba, we rarely hear
of the duration of power blackouts, the number of
clients affected or the amount of money lost or
gained by the power cut. Instead, we praise the Lord
for sparing us what is left in our hands. In fact a
woman in our vicinity was audaciously claiming that
the heavy rain was a good sweeper of rubbish for the
new Millennium! She was swearing vulgar words to
chase away jealousy and evil deeds among the society
at large, which according to her, were causes for
such disasters.
With less than three weeks left from the rainy
season, people were thanking and praising God and
all the saints they know for delivering them from
the disaster. Some were saying that it is no use to
plead to authorities on matters beyond their
commands.
I would have thought it will not be too precarious
for the Environmental Protection Authority or the
pertinent officials at City Hall to make a tour
around vulnerable areas and offer some consoling
statements and make the residents aware of the
foreboding danger of the weather in the coming few
weeks and bid them a happy new millennium whether it
may or may not be celebrated at Meskel Square.
The grain market was not the only place where
affected people rushed. In the early hours of the
morning, I have encountered dozens of people queuing
at the jumble market looking for cheaper building
materials to undertake immediate repair works. But
traders are no fools. They sold parts and pieces of
salvaged corrugated iron sheets for amounts equal to
the price of new ones if not more. They have this
trend of publicity work that older sheets are better
seasoned than new ones and try to sell them at
exorbitant prices.
Would the torrential rains continue at the same
stance? Search the weatherman. |
