In brief
In the Hunza Valley, rising temperatures and melting glaciers have led to catastrophic flooding, displacing families and altering landscapes. Local residents, including Komal and Sultan, confront the reality of their vanishing homes while efforts to mitigate risks become increasingly urgent.
The tranquil morning for 18-year-old Komal in the Hunza Valley has turned into a terrifying reality, where towering mountains now cast shadows over crumbling homes. With the impact of climate change unmistakable, the once stable ground beneath her family’s house has become unstable as glacial lakes up the valley burst, triggering torrents of water and debris. On a seemingly ordinary day, everything changed. Komal recalls the horror of receiving news that the Hassanabad bridge - a critical connection for her village - had collapsed. The stunning visuals of the valley have been transformed into a haunting scene of destruction. The onrush of water stripped away land, collapsed homes, and swallowed the memories contained within.“We had orchards and green lands,” remembers Komal. “Now, I only see barren spaces where my garden used to be; it saddens me.” Her tale is a reflection of a stark reality that many face in Gilgit-Baltistan, an area prone to glaciers melting due to climate change. Scientists warn that if carbon emissions aren't curbed, we could see two-thirds of Himalayan glaciers vanish by the century's end.According to the Aga Khan Development Network (AKDN), over 48,000 people in this region face high threats from glacial lake outbursts and landslides. In some areas, entire villages, like Badswat, are being evacuated to protect residents from increasingly dangerous conditions created by extreme weather and unstable landscapes. “Climate change has exacerbated the frequency and intensity of disasters here," states Deedar Karim from AKDN. The impacts go far beyond just flooding, cutting into infrastructure and agriculture.As desperate residents like Sultan Ali, who fears for his family’s future, sit amidst the remnants of their lives, hopeful solutions remain few. “We can’t go anywhere,” laments Ali. Coordination for relocations is complex, given the land scarcity and lack of resources to create new safe communities.In response to the grim situation, local emergency volunteers like Ijaz are organizing drills to prepare for future disasters. They know that recovery efforts could take days—now, they have focused on trainings for evacuations and first aid, recognizing that swift responses can save lives.Nonetheless, the region’s early warning systems have not reached most places; just 16 out of 100 identified valleys have seen real preventive measures, leaving the majority unmonitored. The responsibility lies largely on communities grappling with anxiety and impending doom, as they wonder where to go and how to survive if disaster strikes again.As the seasons change and floodwaters rise, the haunting uncertainty looms large over the land they have called home, leaving friends and families clinging to memories of a more stable past. “I don’t know what our future looks like,” Komal reflects. “We may not stay here forever, but this place is all we have.”
