As I look outside at bright sunny skies, it’s almost impossible to recall what the last 3 weeks have been like. Chennai has been battered by the highest rains in over a century. The BDHC closed for 3 days when the electrical supply room flooded, and the power had to be switched off but this pales into total insignificance when compared to the damage across many parts of this city that I have come to love. Hundreds have died, thousands have had lost virtually everything, Roads and bridges have collapsed; sewage and water are creating a lethal cocktail in many areas and while food and water issues are gradually being addressed, there’s still a long way to go. I visited a colleague yesterday who had lost his home and all his belongings. He and his family of four were sharing a classroom in a government school with 7 other families. Many, many others are in a similar, heart-breaking, position reminding me of much of the privation I’ve seen in IDP and refugee camps in Africa.
But whether this is just the eye of the storm, or the tail-end of it, my enduring memory will always be of a city that selflessly, quickly, powerfully, and with minimum fuss came together to help others. It wasn’t the best of times but it showed the best of many people. That includes Indian Administrative Service (IAS) Officers who have been leading the state response in the field and the Armed Forces who have swung into action with the speed, selflessness and zeal you’d hope for. It also includes private actors like the many Rotary Clubs in the City (and their associated Rotaractors), including my own; Religious Organisations that have acted as Distribution Centres, kitchens and rallying points for volunteers (including Amir Mahal, the ancestral home of the Prince of Arcot); Yacht and Sailing Clubs that went out in boats at high personal risk; Lions Clubs and Round Tablers. But most of all, I am humbled by the efforts of individuals. The stories of individual bravery and sacrifice will become a part of the legend of this city. An Army Commander told me it’s the only city in which he’s worked in which it often felt as if there were more volunteers than there were victims. What a great strapline for this city.
I am proud to say, that includes my own team. Many of my own Indian staff who were themselves been impacted by the floods have nonetheless been helping others who were in greater need providing food, water, blankets and medicines etc to the needy in far-out places that until now they’d never heard of. UK staff and their partners, and Indian colleagues, helped set up and sustain a contingency operation, including to make sure all our staff were safe and to support British Nationals in need. The Transport and Logistics Team worked ridiculously long hours to get everyone around safely, including getting a Delhi colleague to Bangalore and bringing me back the same way through bad roads and worse weather. The Maintenance and IT teams pulled several rabbits out of hats, with the help of (a UK company) GSH to get the Mission online so quickly so we could open our doors at 0900 yesterday, offering a full service (yes, including for visas!). Even those that couldn’t leave their residential areas, set up communal kitchens to pool their resources and feed their communities.
The rain may have stopped, but the real work is only really beginning. Once the adrenaline has stopped pumping, and the media – and the politicians – move away, there will still be a job to do to get those that have lost everything up and running. Many were already vulnerable, but I’m struck by the number of middle class living in affluent areas – who have been affected. There will be lessons to be learnt about sustainable urban planning and about disaster management. I hope that this city and its citizens have the stamina for these long-term efforts.
But most of all, I hope the people don’t quickly forget how well this city came together in a time of crisis, and holds on to that spirit of humanity that has been so noticeable everywhere over the last few weeks. That would be the biggest loss.
