Information: a life-saving resource
Looking back over the events of 2004, it is striking how many of
the year’s disasters could have been avoided with better information
and communication. For tens of thousands of people, disaster arrived
suddenly, unannounced.
The tsunami, which wrecked so many lives, homes and livelihoods
last December, looms large in this year’s report. Although
scientists across the region had the technology to register the
massive earthquake off Sumatra which triggered the tragedy, they
lacked the means to tell people what was coming or what to do.
Yet informal networks succeeded where official warnings failed:
Vijayakumar Gunasekaran, based in Singapore, heard of the tsunami’s
devastating impact on the radio early on the morning of 26 December.
He phoned a warning through to his family in Nallavadu on the eastern
coast of India, in time for villagers to evacuate all 3,630 residents
to safety.
Early warning is the most obvious way in which accurate, timely
information alone can save lives. In the Caribbean, during 2004’s
hurricane season, most countries successfully alerted their populations
of approaching storms and saved many lives as a result. The key
to their success was putting people, not just technology, at the
centre of their warning systems.
In Cuba, disaster awareness is taught as part of the school curriculum
and evacuation drills are held every year before the hurricane season.
In Jamaica, Red Cross volunteers like Patricia Greenleaf go from
street to street issuing warnings by megaphone, 48 hours before
hurricanes are due to hit. Building awareness from the bottom up
is as valuable as transmitting information from the top down.
As well as saving lives, information reduces suffering in the wake
of disaster. Tracing lost family and friends, knowing how much compensation
you’re entitled to or where you’re going to live, simply
understanding why disaster struck: such information means an enormous
amount to survivors left homeless and traumatized.
In Aceh, Indonesia, Red Cross volunteers helped reunite 3,400 tsunami
survivors with their families – often using satellite phones.
In Sri Lanka, many people feared the waves were a divine punishment.
The Belgian Red Cross helped dispel these myths by explaining the
science behind the disaster.
Once fed and sheltered, disaster survivors are hungry for information
on how to get back to work, how to participate in reconstruction,
how to influence the recovery agenda of aid organizations and governments.
In Tamil Nadu, the Indian state hit hardest by the tsunami, local
civil society groups formed a coordination cell to capture people’s
priorities across 100 disaster-struck villages and report back on
what aid officials were planning. Maintaining communication with
affected people is a crucial
way in which aid organizations can promote transparency, accountability
and trust.
Good information is equally vital to ensure disaster relief is
appropriate and welltargeted. After the tsunami, women’s specific
needs were often overlooked. Large quantities of inappropriate,
used clothing clogged up warehouses and roadsides across South Asia.
Assessing and communicating what is not needed can prove as vital
as finding out what is needed – saving precious time, money
and resources.
Meanwhile, far from the media spotlight, various chronic crises
silently steal lives and livelihoods. The Sahel region of West Africa
has suffered near-famine, triggered by drought and locusts, which
put the lives of 9 million people at risk by mid-2005. Despite timely
warnings, the plight of the Sahel was overshadowed by events in
Darfur and the Indian Ocean. Promoting better media coverage of
the world’s neglected humanitarian disasters is a vital priority
if global aid is to be apportioned more fairly.
Local journalists can make an enormous difference to the lives
of people living in crisis. In Afghanistan, a long-running radio
soap opera combines entertainment with life-saving advice on how
to avoid disease or landmines. Evidence shows that people adopt
less risky behaviour after listening to these programmes.
So the record of the international aid community is mixed. Information
alone can save lives. But there are gaps in the way we gather and
share this powerful resource. Fortunately, this year’s report
reveals that there is much good practice on which to build. I would
like to see three things happen.
First, aid organizations must recognize that accurate, timely information
is a form of disaster response in its own right. It may also be
the only form of disaster preparedness that the most vulnerable
can afford.
Second, in our dialogue with journalists, donors and the wider
public, we must put more emphasis on highlighting the plight of
people caught up in the world’s neglected disasters.
Finally, we must put far greater priority on communicating with
people affected by disaster. Not only will this lead to more efficient
aid assessment and delivery, but more crucial still, by giving vulnerable
people the right information, they can take greater control of their
own lives.
Aid organizations must keep up. We need
new approaches that boost people's resilience to the full spectrum
of physical, social and economic adversities they face. By resilience,
I mean people's ability to cope with crisis and bounce back stronger
than before. If we fail to shift from short-term relief to longer-term
support for communities in danger, we risk wasting our money and
undermining the resilience we seek to enhance.
Top-down interventions may prove less effective
than many assume. Following last December's devastating earthquake
in Bam, 34 search-and-rescue teams from 27 countries flew to the
city and saved 22 lives. Meanwhile, local Red Crescent teams pulled
157 people alive from the rubble, using far fewer 'sniffer' dogs.
Investing in local response capacities saves lives and money.
However, 'natural' disasters are not the
biggest killers. In sub-Saharan Africa last year, 2.2 million people
died from HIV/AIDS, while 25 million live with the infection. Disease,
drought, malnutrition, poor healthcare and poverty have together
created a complex catastrophe, demanding a more integrated response
than simply food aid or drugs.
Meanwhile, the unplanned acceleration of
urban areas is concentrating new risks. Diseases from filthy water
and sanitation kill over 2 million people a year - many of them
slum children. So why have national governments and aid organizations
barely addressed the issue?
The developed world faces new threats, too.
Five degrees more summer heat than usual triggered a disaster that
shamed modern, wealthy societies across Europe in 2003. Up to 35,000
elderly and vulnerable people suffered silent, lonely deaths, abandoned
by state welfare systems in retreat.
Europe was caught off guard. Humanitarian
organizations are more prepared for sudden-impact, high-profile
disasters. But as the nature of disaster changes, we must change
too. Instead of imposing definitions and solutions on people we
consider vulnerable, we should ask them what they define as a disaster.
How are they adapting to the new risks facing them?
The answers can be surprising - and inspiring.
In Swaziland, HIV/AIDS and drought are conspiring to leave many
perpetually hungry. But Chief Masilela informs us that his community
wants irrigation and seeds - not food aid - so they can grow crops,
craft their own recovery and retain their dignity. His government,
meanwhile, is expanding access to life-lengthening drugs and recruiting
10,000 women as 'surrogate parents' for thousands of AIDS orphans.
Across the Indian Ocean in Mumbai, one woman
we report on has rented out her comfortable apartment and moved
into a shack beneath a bridge, at risk of flooding and fire. That
way, she can pay for her daughter's education. She's decided the
family's longterm resilience depends on investing in her daughter
rather than living somewhere safer.
To the south, the low caste women of Andhra
Pradesh have rediscovered indigenous, hardy seeds to help farmers
recover from debt and despair as their cash crops - recommended
by experts in distant capitals - wither in the drought.
The capacity for resilience in the face
of adversity shines through all this year's stories. People continually
adapt to crisis, coming up with creative solutions. They prioritise
livelihoods and household assets rather than the quick fix. Supporting
resilience means more than delivering relief or mitigating individual
hazards. Local knowledge, skills, determination, livelihoods, cooperation,
access to resources and representation are all vital factors enabling
people to bounce back from disaster. This implies a paradigm shift
in how we approach aid. We must focus on the priorities and capacities
of those we seek to help.
Mapping vulnerabilities and meeting needs
is no longer enough. The idea is not new - it's been enshrined in
The Code of Conduct for the International Red Cross and Red Crescent
Movement and NGOs in Disaster Relief for the past 10 years. So why
do humanitarian organizations still fail to assess - let alone harness
- the capacities of those at risk?
Three things need to happen. First, we must
understand what enables people to cope with, recover from and adapt
to the risks they face. Second, we must build our responses on the
community's own priorities, knowledge and resources. Third, we must
scale up community responses, by creating new coalitions with governments
and advocating changes in policy and practice at all levels.
If we focus only on needs and vulnerabilities, we remain locked
in the logic of repetitive responses that fail to nurture the capacities
for resilience contained deep within every community. We have talked
about building capacity and resilience for decades. It is now time
to turn rhetoric into reality: to dispel the myth of the helpless
victim and the infallible humanitarian, and to put disaster-affected
people and their abilities at the centre of our work.
Markku Niskala
Secretary General