Floodwaters devastate land but cannot extinguish hope

Looking down on the flood-ravaged landscape of Bangladesh from the plane, all I could see was a sea of dirty brown water.

Looking down on the flood-ravaged landscape of Bangladesh from the plane, all I could see was a sea of dirty brown water.

On the ground, there was an eerie silence and few signs of life. Thousands of villages of bamboo houses had been swept away in the rural areas, along with roads, schools, railway lines and workshops.

Now and again a green field appeared in the otherwise dirt-brown sea of floodwaters, or a collection of bamboo huts hastily erected on raised ground as temporary shelters for people whose homes had been swept away.

Bangladesh's floods, the worst in living memory, have claimed a thousand lives and put millions at risk. As the waters now begin to recede, the country faces a future with 25 million homeless people. Two of this year's three rice crops have been destroyed - one was at harvesting stage and the other was just being planted. People have no food, no livelihoods, no clean water. With two-thirds of the country still under water, this year's floods are a disaster of biblical proportions.

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I travelled to Bangladesh last week to see what the scope of the disaster was and how Christian Aid could help. What I saw both impressed and daunted me. The scale of the need is overwhelming, but so is the resourcefulness of the Bangladeshi people, and their determination to beat the floods.

At the Pallabi Mjadul Islam High school, converted into a relief centre, I met dozens of families living in classrooms without light or clean water, around 30 families to a room. Despite the tragedy for families who have lost everything, it's a hive of activity.

Children play marbles and football, the women are cooking rice and dal in large open pots on open fires. Men gather in the corridors, talking to each other.

The relief effort is orderly and calm. The Christian Commission for Development in Bangladesh, which provides food, water and medicine, has helped organise volunteer committees to run the camp. Women line up, coming one by one to hand in their vouchers and receive a bag of rice, dal, high-protein biscuits and potatoes.

Incredibly in this scene of need, each woman smiles as she receives her bag, knowing that it's her family's lifeline. In another classroom is a temporary health clinic, where doctors distribute oral rehydration sachets for diarrhoea, cough mixtures and antibiotics.

Momataz Begum (32) cradles the youngest of her six children as she speaks to me.

"At 2 a.m. suddenly the wall of our house fell in. We were frightened that the whole house would collapse and we ran for our lives. We saved our bedding and some pots and pans. Everything else was lost."

Momataz and her husband, Yonus, together with their children, have been living in a school for 33 days.

"My baby girl was born here," says Momataz shyly. "We call her Lucky Banna (Lucky Flood) because she's lucky to be alive."

The story of Momataz and Yonus - of families who have lost everything - is being repeated all over Bangladesh. As we travelled through Dhaka by boat, the only way to navigate many of the city's streets, I saw dozens of families living on rooftops. Small children were struggling to make their way through the water, their bodies barely reaching above the floodwaters.

I stood in what was once a field of crops about to be harvested. What I saw was a field of water. Half of Dhaka has been affected, with water up to eight feet deep. Thousands of people have moved from the slums into the centre of the city, looking for shelter, food and water. In the rural areas, Christian Aid partners report, thousands of farming families have lost their crops and homes and are living marooned in the open.

It's as though the achievements of the last decade have been washed away, commented one Christian Aid partner.

Crops, homes, roads, dykes, livelihoods, all these have been destroyed. The United Nations is asking for $220 million in aid to help put the country back together. In Britain, the main aid agencies have joined in a Bangladesh Floods Disasters Emergency Committee appeal.

But as we travelled, observing women who are members of Christian Aid partner networks distribute aid in small boats, I felt a sense of hope. Not only is there a feeling of determination and the impressive relief effort of ordinary Bangladeshis, but there is evidence of progress.

One woman I met was saved because her home had been built, with Christian Aid's help, to withstand high waters after the 1988 floods. This week two million water purification tablets were flown out to Bangladesh from Medentech Ltd in Wexford, ordered by Christian Aid from the Irish company because they offer good prices to humanitarian agencies.

Karimon Ali, a 35-year-old woman with three children, told me her story.

"When the floods first came we raised our bed off the ground. Then the water got higher. I run a shop, and at first managed to save some of my stock, soap, oil and salt. But the platform I'd put them on collapsed and I lost everything.

"I really want to start up the shop again but I don't have any money. Perhaps the project will give me a loan. The project gives us support. Even if they don't come with food, they come to give us emotional support. We know they are there for us when we need them."

Kevin McCullough from Belfast lives in Lon- don with his wife and two children where he works for Christian Aid