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Clueless in Crisis

This was not, however, the case in Jeddah recently. On the 8^th of Dul Hijjah (November 25) as I was preparing to go to Mina after morning prayers, I could hear the thunderstorms. The first indication of problems was the loss of electric power. Later at about 10:30 as our bus made its way down Madinah Road south of the Square Bridge, we could see the water in front of the International Market; it was rising in the heavy rain. We continued on and as we passed the InterContinental, we saw a Baladia (municipality) vehicle pumping water off the road.

This was the start of what grew more serious and more alarming as we proceeded. When we were near the stadium in south Jeddah, we saw cars which had stalled in the water; some were being swept away by the waters. Our bus continued and as we passed the Prince Fawaz Housing Project, the gravity of the situation began to impress itself upon us.

On the Makkah-Jeddah highway, we saw a car totally submerged in water. There was nothing we could do. Fearing for their lives, some drivers tore down the fence separating the road and drove their cars on the “wrong side” of the highway. We saw not a single police car nor did we hear the whirring of any Civil Defence helicopter.

It was clear the situation was very serious — for many, life-threatening. At Arafat, all we could do was pray that the loss of life and damage to property would be minimal. On YouTube, Twitter and Facebook, the pictures — and Jeddah’s tragedy — were soon being looked at in amazement all over the world. What had happened was that a 2-inch rainfall had flooded a highway! In Mumbai, there are days during the monsoon when 19 inches of rain falls in a day - and the streets remain high and dry. Rain is certainly God’s gift but we failed to accept it and disaster occurred. Why? Simply put, Jeddah experienced a disaster because there was no preparation for avoiding one and no idea of what needed to be done to avoid one. As usual, we are reactive rather 
than proactive.

In other words, we wait until something happens and then decide what to do. Too late, of course. Many advanced countries have what is known as a disaster management centre. Its job is to prepare and be ready for the worst — disasters, fire, flood, rain, wind, explosions, plane crashes, civil commotion, riots… Every possible crisis is carefully thought about and minutely analysed so that if any one does occur, a core of well-trained, competent individuals know exactly what to do in order to minimise loss of life and property damage.

The disaster management personnel have gone through countless drills and know how they should react in a wide variety of situations. How they react is almost automatic; there is no dithering, wringing of hands and wondering whether this or that course should be taken. They may or may not be successful in preventing damage but the point is that they are ready to act at the first sign of trouble — and they do. They do not wait until the situation has spiralled completely out of control.

Consider our situation in Jeddah. Look at back issues of newspapers and count the billions that have been appropriated for sewage projects, storm water drainage, water pipes, properly-built roads and culverts.

Had these things become reality, the act of God might well not have turned into an unimaginable disaster. We will of course never know but the overwhelming evidence is that the disaster could have been prevented. Or certainly considerably lessened. We now hear voices saying that those whose houses were destroyed in the floods were wrong to build in the waterways and wadis.

Who, we ask, were the officials who gave them permits for building? Where were the town planners? How was electricity supplied to their houses? (Don’t even think of sewage.)

One woman in Quwaizah said she bought her land from a man who got it as a minha — a grant. The floods did not only wipe out lives and destroy property. That is pure and simple tragedy but the shame and horror is that the floods brought to the fore the lack of professionalism in many of our institutions and government departments. As part of disaster management in other countries, a number of large well-constructed buildings are designated public shelters. They are stocked with bedding, emergency supplies, food and water — and they are constantly ready to serve as shelters even though they may be schools, mosques or even office buildings for most of the time.

When disaster strikes, the Civil Defence department instructs the public to move to the shelters where at the least, their lives are safe.

Where are our shelters in Jeddah? If there are any, who knows where they are and in what circumstances they can be used? We have failed our own people and it is time to turn to experts in other countries — the US, Britain, Singapore, Japan etc., — who can advise us and train our people on what needs to be done and how to do it.

There is no shame in asking for help; there is, however, real and deep shame in not seeking what we need and are well able to pay for. We could have the best but instead, as we have seen, we settled for the second or third-rate and disaster was the inevitable outcome.

Indications are that our local contractors have failed to build world-class roads and highways; if they cannot do the job properly, we must hire outsiders who can. Nothing less is acceptable. We are dealing with people’s lives and homes. No expense is too great.

On the day itself, as many people will testify, help was not available; many calls were made but very few were answered. The public asks what was done during the decades when those who were managers supposedly did their jobs. The bureaucrats may blame Nature for the disaster but even in the heart of Jeddah, newly-built bridges, underpasses and roundabouts were covered with water and rendered unusable. The rain, we hear over and over again, was the cause of it all. Not the indifferent heartless officials. Not the corrupt individuals. Not those who approved shoddy and sub-standard work.

King Abdullah’s setting up of an investigative body must have come as a shock to them; they might actually be held responsible for not having done what they were well-paid for many years to do. To ordinary citizens, on the other hand, to the families of those who died in the waters, to the sick and the orphans, the announcement was like a balm. King Abdullah has added two words to the Saudi vocabulary — transparency and accountability. They must be taken seriously by all officials. The King has made it clear that he will not tolerate anyone shirking his duties. Punishment will be meted out to those who fail to do what their jobs entail. We residents of Jeddah hope that we have had the last of public relations hype telling us that all is well, that everyone is doing his job and that there is no need to worry. The emptiness of those words has been exposed and washed away by the floods. It is time for a 
new beginning.

Distinguished Arab journalist and 
commentator Khaled Al Maeena is 
Editor-in-Chief of Arab News published from Saudi Arabia. For feedback, 
write to Opinion@khaleejtimes.com