Confronting privilege during flood
Recent flood event in my city questioned my awareness. The awareness of self, people and nature around me.
I was doomscrolling. Social media was flooded with aggressive complainers that day. The doorbell rang. I opened the door. Our housemaid walked past me, right to the sink, her actions urgent. She screamed over the flowing water, “It looks like it’ll rain today.” I replied with a small breathy laugh and curled up on the couch.
The thunder seemed to retort back to my groans as I could see, through my window, the sky rapidly changing its shades. The clouds in charcoal grey appeared inviting to me as the weather cooled down. This was on August 25 and I am in Vadodara, Gujarat. The rains would last till August 30 and Vadodara witnessed another devastating flood. Several thousands citizens were shifted to safer places, NDRF and army ran the rescue operations, and many areas of the city were without electricity for more than 30 hours. News Channels described it a “flash flood’. My heart was flooded too; with questions and curiosity.
I would later realise that the flood I experienced wasn’t the same as everyone. The disaster awakened my awareness. It forced me to confront something I held. Something I was never aware of – “Privilege”.
Safety is a strange thing. You don’t notice it until you have to. My building, tall and insulated, felt more like a fortress that week. I watched the news unfold through a screen while fellow citizens were in knee-deep water in their homes in several parts of the city.
Couple of days later, when normalcy returned, I couldn’t shake the feeling of safety within my insulated world. I started scrolling through social media, now with purpose – trying to understand how the flood fit into the bigger picture. As the water rose outside, so did my awareness of the disparity in experiences.
My mother complained, “The maid isn’t going to be coming anytime soon.” We wouldn’t see her until September 3. Her house was submerged. She caught pneumonia. Floods have several after effects.
Following week my environment teacher suggested that I attend a panel discussion. The theme of the discussion was, “Recurring floods and waterlogging in Vadodara – cause and systemic way forward”. I was still in a bubble of safety, although now I realised how much of a privilege it was.
The panel discussion was an eye opener for me. I would face the anger people held. Anger that was foreign to me. According to the experts at the panel discussion the flood was man-made. I learned about the river system – riparian edges, ox-bows, ponds, rivulets, meanders, ravines and wetlands. River is not just flowing water from one point to another. The moment we understand the river system it is not hard to understand what causes floods in Vadodara almost every five years. Maps and images shown at the discussion clearly indicate human greed. It shows the grave disconnection between us and the river. Rivers which nurture the civilisations. The panel underlined improving water flow slopes and waste dumped into the river. Authorities were held responsible for lacking alarms that would have alerted the citizens. They called for better Water Monitoring and Water Routing Systems.
These words too held no meaning for me. Realising how much I lacked in knowledge and civic sense was the hardest part. It shook my world.
My privilege shone in my face. The only logical next step was to grab it by the neck and show it where it blinded me. I researched further and came across Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine, a book that reframed my understanding of disasters.
In the book, Klein critiques “disaster capitalism”. Stating that the disaster response is usually “shock treatment” (a phrase coined by economist Milton Friedman). The idea is that it’s usually after a crisis that a legislative act or free market policies are passed. When the constituents of a state are most vulnerable and can’t reason.
The flood was a wake-up call, not just about environmental issues but also about social disparities. It pushed me to move beyond my insulated world and engage more critically with the community and the world around me.
As I reflect on this journey, I realise that the flood was both literal and metaphorical – washing away my ignorance and flooding me with new awareness. It showed me the stark realities of privilege and the urgent need for a collective approach to disaster management. Engaging in these discussions and learning from experts and affected communities has ignited a passion within me to make a difference.
(Supriya is an intern with Rootsnews. She is studying journalism at The Maharaja Sayajirao University of Baroda)