Posts Tagged ‘Pakistan’

Escaping the Flood: A Story from Pakistan

Monday, August 30th, 2010

Villagers try to catch trees floating in the flooded Nelum river in Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistani Kashmir on Friday, July 30, 2010. (AP Photo/Aftab Ahmed)

It was July 25th, and I was on my way back home to Lower Dir in the Swat valley. Lush green rice fields and shiny clean newly constructed restaurants and huts along the right bank of River Swat were an enriching and peaceful sight. After a challenging five years period of terrorism, militancy, and consequent displacement of a massive number of villagers, I was pleasantly surprised to see reconstruction almost completed.

It’s hard to imagine now that was only three weeks ago.

It rained for the next three days continuously and heavily. The beautiful dense forests and high mountains and countless streams of my hometown could not stand it – the streams and rivers overflowed, flooded, and by day three we started seeing dead bodies, vehicles, shelters, broken trees, home appliances and so many other things floating downstream. The Swat River had washed out the major bridge connecting Lower Dir, Upper Dir and Chitral with rest of the country and – as I later found out – twenty four other such bridges in its path till the River Kabul at Nowshera. Flood water had caused the river to double in size, burst its banks and wash away everything in its path. With very little food, fuel and amenities in stock, and I was one of three million people of three districts remained stranded for next five days.

I cannot forget a crowd of what must have been tens of thousands of people on both side of the river all standing in long queues, children crying, veiled women struggling with their ‘parda’ in the middle of so many men and the elderly being pushed hard, waiting for hours in the scorching heat. I can’t forget a baby unconscious in the hands of its mother running madly for help in the crowd. It was chaos all the way- and those people are still isolated from the rest of the country.

A boy walks through flood destroyed homes on August 4, 2010 in Pabbi, near Nowshera, Pakistan. (Daniel Berehulak/Getty Images)

Fortunately enough, day six I received help from my brother who had arranged a special escort by the Pakistan Army. What initially felt like a relief and a privilege very soon became guilt – which only started increasing as I moved across the river, and climaxed at the moment I made it to the other side. Instead of relief, I felt awful for the unfortunate people left on the other side. However, my journey had not yet ended – I was stuck for the next two days, and eventually managed to reach Nowshera. Nowshera used to be a small city which stood cheerily on both side of River Kabul, and was now completely and totally flooded. The M-1 the motorway that runs between Islamabad and Peshawar had hundreds of thousands of internally displaced persons (IDPs) who had made it to this relatively high ground. Nothing was left on both side of the river and water had even entered into the city filling streets, houses and markets with water and mud all over. Conditions of the survivors were very poor, lying under open sky, empty handed with almost nothing to eat and drink.

Flooding is still occurring across the country, starting from in the northern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa where my home lies, and spreading down to Punjab, Sindh and now Baluchistan – all have been badly hit. Every day brings new reports of more villages inundated. Millions of people are affected, displaced and countless stranded. A third wave of flooding has started in the north and is expected to reach downstream in next few days. The scale of devastation is too enormous for my mind to imagine.

No doubt the situation is a test of our strength, our individual and collective faith, morality and humanity. However, in the words of someone else, what doesn’t kill us can only make us stronger. Though it is hard to hold optimism in this hour of dismay however, I feel some aspect of the catastrophe could be viewed positively as well. The aftermath of the flood is teaching us lesson to devise systems and strategies which could prevent and mitigate such catastrophes in future. Public opinion has now changed dramatically on construction of dams which were previously denied as being too controversial. And most of all, despite of all the differences that seem to divide us, we as a nation are united for a single cause now, working hand in hand to rebuild the lives of the millions who have lost everything in the face of the flood.

Muhammad Zahoor is a Class of 2010 Acumen Fund Fellow, currently working with FMIA in Pakistan.

Stand with Pakistan and Help Send a Message to the World: www.ontheground.pk

Wednesday, August 25th, 2010

Photo Credit: Daniel Berehulak/Getty Images

The world has been slow to react to the enormity of the floods in Pakistan. Acumen Fund has worked in Pakistan for the past 8 years and although we do not work in disaster relief, we are rallying our community to show its solidarity for Pakistan during this grave humanitarian crisis.

Stand with Pakistan and help send a message to the world: www.ontheground.pk

OnTheGround.pk is a site we’ve built for the global community to offer perspective on the ground in Pakistan. Show your support and help inform and inspire others by adding your name, uploading photos and news, and sharing stories of hope. We also encourage you to share opportunities from other organizations working on relief efforts. A list of  organizations you can trust can also be found here.

Thank you and please visit OnTheGround.pk today to help send a message to the world to stand together with Pakistan in this time of need.

Until It Hurts: A Love Letter to Pakistan

Monday, August 23rd, 2010

Rabia Ahmed at NY for Acumen's DIGNITY Benefit, July 2009 | Photo Credit: Steven Lau

A few hours ago, I found my father sitting at the dinner table, counting. When I asked, what he was counting, he mutedly replied “Bete, during this week, 63 years ago, my family crossed the border to Pakistan.” I had heard this story hundreds of times before, from my grandmother, my uncle, but usually from my dad. It was a journey etched into his mind, into his bones. It was the story of eating neem plants and walking – lots of walking- along a path to the new world, leaving everything behind for hopes of a peaceful tomorrow.

Years later, my siblings and I enjoyed the humid, sunny, summers in Pakistan. We’d run through the mango groves on a family farm and sip sugar cane juice in the market. We’d play hide and seek in my grandfather’s roof garden and host pretend doll weddings with my cousins. It was a fairy-tale land, a land which welcomed us with open arms whenever we visited. It was truly blissful.

Nevertheless, each year things changed in Pakistan. The cars looked a little different, the music became more rock and roll and the air became more polluted. The only constant which remained was the home of my grandfather on the outskirts of Lahore. With its white washed walls, and lattice door frames, it remained mostly how we left it the year before. The home was five stories high, grand in a modest town, and built around a central open veranda with multiple bedrooms on each floor. My grandfather had a modern above-ground latrine and air conditioner installed so that his grandchildren were not deprived of their essentials. And every summer, without fail, we’d anticipate the monsoons. They’d come in, hastily from no one direction and with quick winds, gusts of water rushed down on us with a certain sense of urgency, and we – well, we’d dance. You’d hear us shrieking and giggling in the same breath because there was no warning, no sign of the hammering waters; just the sudden opening of the skies. It was an idyllic time and we were constantly told to appreciate the rain because it was such a blessing.

But this year, the blessing has turned into a curse, a real test of spirit.

As I sit here some 7,000 miles away from my old summer home, I can’t help but weep for a nation under water. Just the thought of one in five Pakistanis without a home, without a livelihood and without any imminent hope, is simply unbearable.

We’ve read the stories: the tale of a father who tied his son to a tree; of the mother who gave birth to twins in the middle of the storm; of the family who sat by and watched their cow- their livelihood- weaken and eventually pass on. And we’ve seen the staggering statistics – 20 million Pakistanis affected, that’s more than New York State. That’s more than Haiti and Katrina combined. More than Haiti and Katrina combined. Even as I write these words, I’m speechless.

After all, Pakistan is a country divided. It attempts to be modern but is shot at by those clinging to the past. It’s a place where history repeats itself without enough time passing to learn from it. A place where culture and religion constantly fight each other. It’s a place which terrorists now call home and is also a nuclear state. It’s a country that’s lost itself, to itself, by itself.

But it is a country that is loved by so many that summered there; whose parents and grandparents fought to set up homes there, by those who decided to dedicate their lives to helping it reach its potential. Through this catastrophe, Pakistani-Americans are crying for their fellow Pakistanis back home. They’re taking action by running fundraising drives, and putting together media packs and collecting necessary items. They’re keeping one another abreast of activities from the field and are urging all, each and every person they know, to take action, NOW. It’s not just the feeding and immunizing which needs to be done now, but the rebuilding and revitalizing which needs to happen for years to come. It’s in a state of despair, of helplessness, for a people so resilient, so open-hearted, kind and gentle who have never asked for anything, but dignity,

There are people to thank, like Fiza Shah, CEO of Developments in Literacy, who builds schools in remote and hard to reach areas of Pakistan and Jacqueline Novogratz, CEO of Acumen Fund who still sees the potential, the hope in Pakistan’s people, a single person who leads an organization that invests in the future of a nation. These two women continue to believe in Pakistan, through the heartfelt moments and harrowing sorrows.

So today, I beg, and urge you all to do the same, or at least to take a step. It’s impossible to imagine the devastation from this far away. Soon enough some other news sensation will take over and most of us will forget the little teary-eyed girl or a mother without milk for her twins. We’ll forget that although they didn’t have much to begin with, whatever they once could call their own has been washed away. Their lives are once again a blank slate. What reality once was is now but a dream wrapped in a nightmare. So please, pick up your check book, or log into your paypal account. Buy some medicines or donate some food.

In this time of pain, hurt and suffering, I remember a quote I once read by Mother Teresa: “The paradox of life is if you love until it hurts, then there is no more hurt, only love.” And Pakistan, we love you and we’re hurting for you and that is what I wish for my fellow Pakistanis, only love.

Rabia Ahmed is the Co-Chair of New York for Acumen and the Associate Director of MBA Admissions at the NYU Stern School of Business. To find out how you can help, please read this recent post which names a few organizations working in Pakistan that we trust and who need your support. Please also show your support and stand with Pakistan by adding your name in solidarity to http://www.ontheground.pk.

Pakistan for Acumen Stands Up For Change

Friday, August 20th, 2010

Amidst floods, rain and the aftermath of a city gripped by violence, on August 8, 2010 Karachi came out to ‘Stand Up For Change’ – a stand-up comedy act by Sami Shah organized by Pakistan for Acumen Fund (PfA).

Sami Shah belongs to the new school of stand-up comedians in Pakistan. He and his peers have revolutionized this space and reached out to a wide audience to create political and social awareness. His content is inspired from by the challenges of everyday life in Pakistan. A big supporter of Acumen Fund, Sami instantly agreed to do a pro bono show for PfA.

A mere 5 hours before the event, it started to drizzle, upon which one of the members of Pakistan for Acumen sent an SMS: “IT’S STARTING TO RAIN. WILL ANYONE COME NOW?” For those of you not aware of the intricacies of life in Karachi, rain is a double-edged sword: being able to count the number of times it rains per year on one hand, people relish the approach of storm clouds and the booming of thunder. Yet, when rain does come, it comes in torrents, flooding roads and crippling the city.

And yet, we were pleasantly surprised. The rain was kept at bay until the event started, and people came in droves (335, to be exact!).

The past few weeks have been extremely difficult in Pakistan, faced with the worst floods in 80 years across the country, an estimated 20 million people displaced and affected by the floods and ethnic/political violence in many parts of Karachi. The event was held to raise money for the Acumen Fund to invest into social enterprises in Pakistan that build jobs, communities and livelihoods for people at the “Bottom of the Pyramid“.

In the current situation, while Pakistan is in dire need of aid to provide relief to people affected by the flood, it needs entrepreneurs who, in time, will build sustainable solutions to lift their communities out of poverty – it is these solutions the Acumen Fund invests in, and which the funds raised from the comedy show will be directed.

The thing about Karachi and the people of the city is that a lot of times we are somewhat sheltered from the disastrous events taking place in the country. Karachites are always looking for opportunities to help out, and we used the event to reach to all those people interested in supporting Acumen Fund by joining PfA. The event has created an opening for people to make a difference by becoming part of PfA and Standing Up For Change!

Jeremy Higgs is a co-leader of the Pakistan for Acumen volunteer chapter. PfA helps to build awareness and fundraise for Acumen’s work in Pakistan.

Summer Spotlight: How Patient Capital Can Redefine Scale

Thursday, August 19th, 2010


This summer I worked with one of the Acumen Fund’s investees Ansaar Management Company (AMC) based in Lahore, Pakistan. AMC is a for-profit company run by former Acumen Fellow Jawad Aslam, which provides affordable housing and a healthy community for low-income families. Unlike conventional models, AMC is selling homes with a clear legal title and a social infrastructure of water, sanitation, roads, and schools.

One of my tasks was to survey the commercial investment landscape and develop recommendations to help scale AMC’s model. With for-profit social enterprises like AMC, it’s natural to look at attracting commercial investors to help expand business. Since I used to work in real estate investment, I quickly reached out to former colleagues to help come up with ideas based on best practices in the industry. But, before long, I began to ask myself: “Why am I going back and conducting business with the same greedy capital markets which I left behind?” I became interested in the concept of Patient Capital because I thought it would challenge the norms in the present financial markets, which I had begun to question. However, upon hearing the word “scale,” I immediately began to think about the amount of capital necessary to invest into more housing development projects. How could we attract commercial investors? What kind of legal structure would promise liquidity for our investors? What is the best way to maximize financial efficiency?

But, were these the right questions to think about how to scale social impact? Is Patient Capital only patient until the enterprise is ready for traditional capital markets?

If the ultimate goal is to provide affordable homes to as many of Pakistan’s poor as possible, scale through the attraction of commercial capital does not need to be the focus of AMC’s organizational growth. Instead, when AMC proves that it’s model is profitable, it will provide other existing or potential housing developers incentive to replicate or adopt a similar model. The followers can be non-profit organizations or even the government, and there should be open space for creative collaboration among these different players.

However, scale cannot be just about seeing replication of AMC’s model because the problem is more often about the lack of systems and infrastructure. For instance, influencing public policy is a powerful way to scale impacts. AMC is now working with local government officials to change regulations on the planning of housing projects to make them more suitable to affordable homes. These changes could benefit not only AMC, but the entire market for affordable housing. There is also a more fundamental challenge to scaling the model. When Jawad worked for Saiban, the not-for-profit inspiration for AMC, it took him 18 months to obtain the proper approvals on the development plan because he refused to pay bribes. Fighting to rid of corruption would also result in a positive ripple effect across the housing development sector in this country.

If we can think of Patient Capital as not just a grace period for social entrepreneurs before tapping the “impatient” commercial markets, but instead as a new model of investment that is challenging the current systems of capitalism, scale could be defined and understood in a broader context. Attracting commercial investors is a fine pursuit. But we need to think outside the box and experiment with new ways of investment rather than simply adopting and accommodating the existing conduct of the commercial sector. This is the powers I see with Patient Capital. If we can move beyond thinking solely in terms of financial return, we can begin to explore innovative models that go beyond the simplistic dualism of for-profit vs. not-for-profit and private vs. public. Working for a social enterprise start-up in Pakistan has helped me reflect on my own mindset based on my private sector experience, and to think more deeply about what scale really means.

Nanako Kudo was a 2010 Summer Associate working for Acumen Fund investee Ansaar Management Company (AMC) in Lahore, Pakistan. Nanako is pursuing a Master’s degree in International Development and Social Change at Clark University.