Ubaid Sahil
For decades, climate change in Pakistan has been discussed in conference halls, policy documents, and government strategies. Yet while these debates continue, the real story is unfolding quietly—and often painfully—across the country. From the glaciers of the Himalayas and Karakoram to the flood-prone plains of the Indus, climate change has became a daily reality. Farmers struggle to salvage crops in increasingly unpredictable seasons, cities simmer under unrelenting heatwaves, and wildlife teeters on the edge of survival. Taken together, these events paint a sobering picture of a nation on the front lines of a warming planet.
The story begins high in the mountains. Pakistan’s northern ranges—home to some of the world’s largest glaciers outside the polar regions—are witnessing transformations that scientists warn are unprecedented. According to the Pakistan Meteorological Department, glaciers in the Karakoram and Himalayas are retreating at an accelerated pace. These frozen reservoirs feed the Indus River, Pakistan’s lifeline for agriculture, hydropower, and urban water supply. Yet as the ice melts faster, the timing and volume of river flows are becoming increasingly erratic. Unstable glacial lakes, swelling behind fragile natural dams, pose sudden threats to mountain communities. Glacial lake outburst floods in recent years have damaged homes, roads, and farmland, leaving residents trapped between rising waters and crumbling infrastructure.
Once these glacial waters reach the plains, the consequences multiply. The 2010 floods are etched in national memory: over 20 million people were affected, more than 1,700 lives were lost, and vast swaths of farmland were washed away. Twelve years later, the 2022 floods repeated the tragedy on an almost equal scale, displacing millions (around 33 million) and submerging one third of the country. Even in non-catastrophic years, seasonal floods remain relentless, creeping into riverine communities and eroding livelihoods incrementally. For many, rebuilding is a Sisyphean task: homes repaired today are often inundated again tomorrow.
Yet floods are only one dimension of Pakistan’s climate crisis. Across Sindh and Balochistan, the other extreme—drought—is taking its toll. The 2022-2023 agricultural reports reveal that crop yields in these regions fell by 25–40% due to erratic rainfall and shrinking water sources. Wells run dry, pastures shrink, and farmers travel long distances in search of water for basic needs. Children and the elderly bear the brunt of these shortages, often walking hours to fetch water for drinking, cooking, and livestock. Here, climate change is not a headline event; it is a daily grind, silently undermining nutrition, income, and the dignity of communities.
While some parts of the country are flooded and others are parched, a third crisis—heat—is emerging as a new normal. Meteorological data indicate that Pakistan’s average summer temperatures have risen by more than 1.2°C over the past three decades, with extreme heatwaves becoming both longer and more frequent. Karachi, for instance, has endured deadly heatwaves that overwhelmed hospitals and claimed lives, particularly among outdoor laborers and the elderly. Lahore’s streets shimmer under the sun, making even routine work hazardous. The consequences extend beyond human discomfort: high temperatures stress crops, raise electricity demand, and disrupt daily routines, compounding the economic and social costs of climate change.
The human story, however, is only one part of the equation. Pakistan’s wildlife is also confronting profound challenges. In the Hindu Kush and Karakoram, the elusive snow leopard is increasingly confined to shrinking habitats, forced higher up the mountains as warmer winters and unpredictable snowfall alter prey patterns. Similarly, endangered Himalayan species such as the ibex and Himalayan monal face similar pressures. The decline of these species is not merely a loss of biodiversity; it reverberates through ecosystems, affecting grazing lands, water regulation, and even the livelihoods of communities who rely on natural resources.
He writer is a student, activist, and columnist. He can be reached at ubaidsa9@gmail.com
