NDMA’s vague red alerts lack clarity, coordination, and actionable guidance, leaving citizens unprepared and disasters repeatedly mishandled
Mohammad Nafees
On 23 August, the National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) issued a “red alert” ahead of the latest monsoon spell, warning of torrential rains, urban flooding, flash floods, and landslides across large swathes of the country. On paper, the alert ticked all the right boxes: it cited the Pakistan Meteorological Department’s forecast, identified broad regions, listed potential hazards, and instructed government departments to take “precautionary measures.”
But a closer look at both the wording of the alert and the official response reveals a troubling reality. Instead of guiding citizens and administrations to act, the alert resembled a vague weather bulletin that shifted responsibility down the chain. It highlighted dangers but failed to provide localised, actionable information. Worse, it exposed a deeper flaw: the lack of coordination between NDMA and the provincial and district disaster management authorities (PDMAs and DDMAs).
Alerts Without Clarity
The red alert warned: “The first wave of heavy rainfall is expected to lash upper and central Pakistan from 23 to 27 August, with a second wave targeting Sindh and the eastern and southern parts of Balochistan from 27 to 29 August.”
For a villager in Buner or a shopkeeper in Gujranwala, terms like “upper and central Pakistan” or “southern Balochistan” are meaningless. Even where specific places were named — “flash floods in local streams and nullahs in Murree, Galiyat, Islamabad and Rawalpindi, as well as in the hill torrents of Dera Ghazi Khan and northeast Punjab” — the question remained: what exactly should residents do? Evacuate? Identify higher ground? Avoid certain neighbourhoods?
If NDMA continues to act as a messenger rather than a manager, the whole purpose of creating this authority, in addition to the Pakistan Meteorological Department, will turn out to be a failure
The tragedy in Buner, where 36 members of a family were swept away after retreating to what they thought were “safe” rooms, underlines the human cost of vague instructions. As Hamid Mir reported, they misjudged their options because no clear guidance existed. NDMA’s alerts highlight hazards, but they offer no survival roadmap.
Responsibility Without Ownership
The NDMA declared that “all federal ministries, provincial governments and local administrations have been instructed to take necessary precautionary measures.” In practice, this is not coordination but abdication. The federal body warns, provincial bodies are “directed,” and the public is left wondering whether anyone actually acted.
Did the residents of Rawalpindi, Gujranwala, Sialkot or Nowshera — all flagged as at risk of urban flooding — receive timely alerts in ways they could understand? Were mosque loudspeakers, local FM stations, or mobile phone alerts used? If not, then the words on NDMA’s circulars were little more than bureaucratic boilerplate.
Coordination Without Coherence
The alert also claimed: “Federal departments were directed to enhance inter-agency coordination, advising to implement strict and proactive monitoring of areas surrounding nullahs and water channels to prevent potential drowning incidents.”
But what does “enhance” coordination actually mean? Who is responsible for which nullah? Are police, volunteers, or district administrations tasked with monitoring water levels? Are there SOPs for evacuation? And when NDMA asks for “twice-daily updates,” does it mean casualty counts, rainfall levels, or rescue progress? Without clearly defined roles and reporting formats, such directives risk becoming ritual rather than readiness — especially when, in practice, villagers often play the most effective role in saving lives. Two recent examples illustrate this vividly: in Swat, two locals used their raft to rescue stranded people, and in Ghizer, a shepherd’s timely warning allowed villagers to flee a glacier burst.
Outsiders More Concrete Than Insiders
While Pakistan’s own system issues generic alerts, external actors appear more specific. The UK announced £1.33 million in aid along with training for 2,400 community volunteers for search and rescue in “vulnerable districts.” Whatever its flaws, at least the outline of action — targeted aid, trained manpower, community integration — was more concrete than NDMA’s sweeping directives.
Fragmented Priorities
The lack of coherence between state institutions surfaced just a day after NDMA’s red alert, when the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Directorate of Archaeology formed a committee to assess flood damage to heritage sites. Its mandate was narrow: catalogue cracks, prepare reports, suggest conservation. Noticeably, neither NDMA nor PDMA were invited to the table. Archaeologists can record damage, but they cannot fortify sites or integrate them into early warning systems. By shutting out disaster authorities, the state effectively guaranteed that “assessment” would remain divorced from prevention.
What this omission also signals is more than negligence: it reflects a deeper credibility gap. If the Directorate of Archaeology does not see NDMA or PDMA as useful partners in protecting heritage, what does that say about the trust deficit within government itself? This dual failure is telling — warnings remain generic, committees work in silos, and citizens are left confused while priceless heritage sites stand exposed to the next monsoon.
Lessons Still Unlearned
From the 2010 floods to the catastrophic inundations of 2022, Pakistan has lived through disaster after disaster. Yet, the communication system remains unchanged — warnings that sound like weather bulletins, responsibilities shifted rather than owned, and “coordination” that is more rhetoric than plan.
If NDMA continues to act as a messenger rather than a manager, the whole purpose of creating this authority, in addition to the Pakistan Meteorological Department, will turn out to be a failure. Pakistan will keep reliving the same tragedies. Red alerts will continue to raise more questions than answers — and once again, those least equipped to bear the cost will pay the highest price.__ Courtesy: This is an article from The Friday Times Pakistan on 26.08.2025
