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IT would have been tragic in any case but is rendered even more so because of its senselessness, and the culpability of the victims themselves.
Picture the scene: Karachi, the second day of the Eid holidays and people seeking to beat the heat and the power shutdowns. What better option in the city by the sea than to head out towards the beaches? This many did, and the Clifton and Hawkesbay beaches in particular were thronged with thousands.
But this is a city that has many ways to kill; a day later, it was confirmed that nearly two dozen had drowned. Another 24 hours, and the number had spiralled to upwards of 30. Several of the victims had shown up on the beach as a last-minute plan, so their families didn’t even know of their fate until their bodies were recovered. Many families ended the festivities of the season with funerals.
Many families ended the festivities of Eid with funerals.
Why were these deaths particularly tragic in a place where the Grim Reaper is not far behind every single resident? Because they were so easily preventable. It is well known that the tides during the monsoons are treacherous, with the meteorological department routinely putting out warnings about rip tides that can drag a person away in the blink of an eye. But, people refuse to pay heed.
In tragedies such as these, it is the administration that justifiably shoulders much of the blame. It was its job, of course, to make sure that people don’t venture where it is dangerous.
But what do you do when official quarters are apparently doing their best (even if it is a meagre best), but — as I said earlier — people seem unwilling to allow the administration to help them?
Every year at popular spots on beaches such as Paradise Point, Clifton beach and Cape Montz, I see signage that tells visitors that it is highly dangerous to be in even shallow water. Red flags indicate the line in the sand that must not be crossed. There are lifeguards employed by both the city administration and an NGO; there aren’t enough of them, to be sure, but even the efforts of these meagre numbers go waste since — as several Cantonment Board Clifton lifeguards that had been on duty at Seaview rued on Thursday — people don’t comply with their advice.
I’ve seen families erupt in anger at lifeguards approaching them to warn them, and knots of young men threatening violence if they aren’t left to do what they please. A day after the initial reports about the deaths at the beaches had been confirmed, people on Twitter were discussing how a bus of beach-goers had been stopped by the police and offered the response: “Let us celebrate Eid.” People take the threat lightly and persist in believing that it’ll all be okay — until, of course, it isn’t.
By Friday, the beaches around Karachi had been cordoned off and police had set up pickets to filter out picnickers from the other traffic. Many are asking why was this not done earlier? The counter question is, of course, should the resources of an already stressed force be diverted to such a cause given that people are heedless about their own safety?
The latter argument, though, cannot hold water. There are examples across the spectrum of Pakistan where people are careless about their own safety, despite the existence of laws, regulations and advice from state quarters; should they too be left to harm themselves? Should we not have laws about motorcycle riders wearing helmets, for example, and should the police not enforce these laws? Obviously, it is the state’s responsibility, a raison d’être, to protect those who can’t or are unwilling to protect themselves.
In other parts of the world, though, such debate has reached other levels entirely — is a ‘nanny state’ good or bad? Those at the helm of Singapore’s policies believe that it is beneficial for the greater and long-term good. And few can argue that it is incumbent upon governments to come down heavily on the use of harmful products such as tobacco and drugs.
But then, what about consumables such as sugar and salt that can, in excess quantities, prove equally harmful and impose a massive burden on a country’s healthcare sector? Given the costs of obesity, several states have imposed ‘fat taxes’; Canada is formulating regulations on curbing salt content in food.
Here, if ever such a level is reached at all, it is a very long time away. In the meantime, unfortunately, we will have to divert already scant resources towards the most basic of safety precautions for the heedless. In terms of the beaches around Karachi, it would be a good idea to initiate before the monsoons a public awareness campaign through the media. And until people become wise, the closure of the beaches may be inevitable. Add that to the cross we must already bear.
The writer is a member of staff.
Published in Dawn, August 4th, 2014
