One of the most prominent issues of this century is climate change.

There has been horrific news of natural disasters that range from permanent droughts to increased flooding and a global food crisis because of the loss of fertile land for agriculture. As global citizens, we often hear of this news, but we tend to turn a blind eye. We have become accustomed and desensitized to even the most bone-chilling statistics. More often than not, our privilege and social confinement prevent us from drawing connections to the plight of many of those at the forefront of this climatic catastrophe.

For many years, I have heard a popular sentence: “In the next 20 years, Pakistan will face a serious water crisis.” I often heard this repeated on news channels, in geography books, or on the internet, and I always imagined just how grave this “water crisis” would be.

Fast-forward 17 years: I am a Pakistani citizen, and I have access to clean drinking water; admittedly I am single handedly responsible for the wastage of gallons of water because of my unsustainable lifestyle. If I have all these facilities so readily available to me, then there must be no crisis, right? Wrong.

The first instance when I was introduced to the realities of this alarming problem was in 2021, when I met with a district judicial officer who had resided in Dera Ghazi Khan, a small yet urban city in the South of Punjab, for two years while working on uplifting the community there. After hearing about the unimaginable stories of malnutrition, dehydration, and a complete lack of clean drinking water just four hours away from where I enjoyed all these facilities, I began my efforts to reduce the treacherous water scarcity in D.G. Khan.

Initially, my efforts were limited to research and awareness so that I could thoroughly comprehend the situation in the city and navigate how to solve the water scarcity crisis for the 2.5 million people residing there. The research exhibited that, over the years, many samples of the groundwater from random areas within D.G Khan have been collected and tested, keeping in mind the World Health Organization (WHO) guidelines for safe and clean drinking water. Most of the samples collected in D.G Khan were found unfit for human consumption because they contained high levels of sulfates, chlorides, sodium, magnesium, and bicarbonates, as well as bacterial contamination. One can imagine that such high levels of contamination would have drastic effects on not just the health of the people but also the agriculture and livelihoods of the locals.

I quickly realized that awareness would not make a dent in this issue, considering the intensity of the situation. This is when I began designing a plan of my own that could make a difference to hundreds of different families. Associating myself with one of the NGOs working in D.G. Khan, the Musa Khan Foundation, I initiated a program to raise funds to construct a water sanitation plant within the region. The organization I worked closely with had already established a dozen purification plants, dispensaries, and dining halls.

We collectively worked together to raise money through donations and contributions and began funding the development of the purification plant. The last step before construction and initiation began was visiting the city. I visited D.G. Khan in the summer and truly understood the crux of the matter I had spent the past few months researching. It was clear to me that no amount of research could have truly illustrated the depth of the scarcity and drought. Children, younger than myself, shared their stories about cholera, stomach viruses, and malnutrition, which they suffered from because of the lack of clean water. Residents were over the moon upon hearing the news of the construction of a new filtration plant close to their homes.

One story that particularly left a mark on me was that of a young, 25-year-old mother of two; she shared with me how her husband was a laborer who worked as a builder in Lahore and she took care of her two children by herself. Holding back her tears, she elaborated on how frequently her children aged three and seven would fall ill from either a stomach virus or extreme dehydration in the hot summer months. She stated that she worried day and night about what the future held for her children, desperately praying that her fate would improve and her children would be able to live long, healthy lives free from the worries that burdened her — hoping that they would be able to move away from the dry, barren lands of D.G. Khan to somewhere that offered them fresh fruit, fertile land, and clean water.

While putting faces and a community to my research aided me in sympathizing more and becoming familiar with the troubles of the populace, I would never truly be able to understand what type of problems paraded through their daily lives or the concerns of a young mother responsible for the future of her children, simply because I live a cushioned life miles away.

However, the experience led to a realization that as citizens of not just a country but the globe who hear and learn about such pressing issues, there is a responsibility that lies within us to ensure that the vulnerable, marginalized, neglected, and the community as a whole is taken care of. In instances of power, wealth, and prosperity, there should be equal efforts to reciprocate and contribute greater amounts to the success of a community. A right is not a luxury, but many of us blessed with luxuries often consider them rights, and it is our duty to be mindful of what we take for granted and extend a helping hand.