A few hours of rain. Floods are breaking into homes. People are wailing. Some are drowning. Their rooms have become dams overnight. There are neither lowlands nor highlands. Every home is submerged. It happened in the 60’s and repeated in the 70’s. Close to six decades later, the newspaper headlines read the same. June is here, and the floods are killing us again!
When a disaster happens once, it is a natural disaster. When a disaster happens repeatedly, it is a broken system. If flooding in parts of Ghana after all these years is still a headline during the rainy season, it is obvious we have not learned enough from our past. It means we have not won the battles of our forefathers, let alone start fighting our own.
Rain is supposed to be a blessing. If poor systems are all we can boast of, it becomes a curse. If we have not found practical solutions to curb June floods after all these decades, it means we have been stagnant for all these decades.
It does not take much to be a prophet of doom in Africa. The grounds are fertile because every day is another talk party. We talk more, yet do nothing. In Africa, you can predict disasters with so much precision. You can prophesy that homes will be flooded in June, and your words will not fail. You can predict that a stampede will happen during military recruitment, and exactly that will happen.
When systems are broken, the past only becomes a memory… and not a lesson. People needlessly perish from the same disaster over and over again. No one ever takes home a single lesson. The hundred-page report from the numerous committees will only end up as one of the disposable wrappers of the roasted maize seller on the street.
When people refuse to learn from their past, they pay more in the future. We are still building on waterways. Yes, we have not learned enough from our past. We are improperly disposing of waste. Our gutters are choked with solid waste. That is the hallmark of a people with a short memory.
No matter how short our memory may be, we must remember that nature never forgets. If we give her junk, she will give us junk. She will treat us just as we treat her. She penalizes any society that does not treat her well.
Nature is like a mill. It gives back what it has been given. It does not forgive, and that is why we must be careful not to offend her. Any activity that destroys nature is an offence to her. As you indiscriminately litter, remember she will always remember. While destroying the ecosystem with galamsey, do not grieve too much when she punches you back.
Floods do not begin with rain. They begin with people who intentionally offend nature. Today, places that have never flooded have been overwhelmed with water. People have lost their lifetime savings. The trauma will live with them forever.
A broken system soon catches up with everybody. Others may be victims today. It could be you tomorrow. No matter how materially endowed one may be, one cannot be richer than the broken system they live in. No one can escape from the claws of a broken system. Everyone, whether rich or poor, pays the price when systems do not work.
When one person builds without a permit, everyone will pay for it. When politically connected people profit from our poor sanitation system, we all will pay for it. A broken system spares no one. Everyone eventually pays, and this year’s flooding has taught us this bitter lesson.
Floods know no poor homes. When the revengeful currents are carrying away cars, they are not selective. The buildings that collapsed because of the heavy downpour gave no warning. They just came down. Anybody could be a victim. A broken system is a debt both the rich and poor will continue to pay.
No one can escape from the claws of systems that fail to work. Gradually, we will all be victims. It takes collective effort to fix such systems. There are no spectators. Everyone should be a player.
When systems are broken, our problems are never solved. They become a disaster we always expect. Every rainy season becomes a funeral season.
A broken system only makes temporary solutions available in an attempt to solve permanent problems. It is always a knee-jerk reaction. We bring down a few structures, which will be rebuilt later. We begin a nine-day wonder of desilting gutters. We scream. We swear. We lament. It is only for a few days. Everyone has a short memory. They will soon forget until it is another June.
The politicians will do their best. Their so-called effective solutions will always be ‘in the pipeline’. In an emotional mood, they will sit in helicopters to ‘assess the situation’ as though they just arrived from Mars. Some will pass by to share their messages of condolence, accompanied by two bags of rice to be shared by a family of fifty.
Some will be in their safety boots and wave to victims from afar. “We are with you,” they will whisper. They will pose with a facial expression of pain to tell a good human story on social media. They will feign sympathy, but what they mean to say is, “We shall be back in June next year.”
Until broken systems are fixed, politicians will keep enjoying the jolly ride. Everyone will soon become a casualty, and there will be no one to comfort the other. This is the curse of a broken system.
Prayers will not solve what urban planning is meant to solve. Throwing emotional tantrums will not break the June Curse. Will we have a conversation about floods again in June 2027? Well, a hard problem demands a hard solution. The ball is in our court.
By Kobina Ansah
The writer is the Chief Scribe of Scribe Productions (www.scribeproductions.com) and Scribe Communications (www.scribecommltd.com).