by Mishal Jahan
This summer Gilgit-Baltistan experienced one of its harshest flood seasons in recent times. Accelerated glacial melt, compounded by an unprecedented heatwave reaching 48.5 °C and weeks of heavy monsoon rains, set off a chain of disasters: glacial lake outburst flash floods, landslides, and sudden cloudbursts that left entire valleys cut off. In Daeen valley of Ishkoman a glacial lake burst its banks on August 22, destroyed a historic bridge, over 330 homes. Further downstream, the mudslide dammed the Ghizer River creating a temporary lake of about seven kilometers. Khalti, Chatorkhand and Asumber valleys in Yasin, Gupis were also hit hard.
A week earlier, in Danyore, eight young people were buried alive under the debris of a landslide while repairing a drainage channel damaged in an earlier outburst. On July 22, eight tourists died and 15 went missing after floods triggered by heavy rain and cloudburst swept through Thuk Nullah near Gilgit-Baltistan’s Babusar Top area in Diamer district. A teenage boy and his sister were swept away by floods in Bunerdas, Chilas.
These tragedies underscored how fragile life in the northern mountains has become. The scale of destruction has been immense. Over 998 homes were washed away in Gilgit-Baltistan alone, while vital links such as the Karakoram Highway and Jaglot-Skardu Expressway were blocked for days. At least 45 people in the region lost their lives, with the total death toll from floods and related disasters in Pakhtunkhwa, Kashmir and Gilgit-Baltistan, since July rising beyond 780.
Damages in Gilgit-Baltistan are estimated to exceed Rs20 billion, marking one of the most devastating flood seasons since 2010. The message is clear: Pakistan’s climate crisis is no longer a distant concern, it is unfolding now, steadily eroding communities, infrastructure, and livelihoods.




Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has announced a Rs4 billion package for rebuilding, along with compensation for families who lost their homes and loved ones. He also pledged to set up a 100-megawatt solar plant to help the region cope with winter power shortages and promised a new centralised system for weather forecasting to improve preparedness.
Federal Minister for Climate Change, Mussadik Malik, however, admitted the existing early warning network had failed, citing vandalised equipment and neglected installations. He called for relocating vulnerable settlements under the Land Reforms Acts 2025. These commitments matter, but they still fall short of the proactive, long-term planning the region urgently needs.
Experts of mountain hazards have long emphasised that disasters in the Hindu Kush-Himalaya and Karakoram are rarely “natural” in their impacts. In Gilgit-Baltistan, unregulated tourism, unplanned construction on riverbeds, rampant deforestation, and weak zoning laws have intensified the dangers. Rivers choke with debris, bridges collapse under predictable floods, and glacial lakes remain largely unmonitored despite well-documented risks.
What Gilgit-Baltistan requires now is not another round of short-term relief but a coherent framework for resilience. Early warning must be treated as critical infrastructure, with sustained funding, robust maintenance, and local ownership.
Studies from Nepal and Bhutan have shown that when communities themselves operate sirens, radios, and mobile alerts, warnings reach people in time and are acted upon. In a region as dispersed and mountainous as Gilgit-Baltistan, such community-led systems are essential. This truth was evident in Talidas and Raushan, Ghizer, where a shepherd noticed a sudden surge in the stream and phoned his family members in the village below; his timely call allowed families to evacuate before the gushing flood arrived, saving hundreds of lives.
The episode underlines how training ordinary residents –shepherds, farmers, teachers, and volunteers–in basic disaster response can transform scattered settlements into resilient first responders, ensuring that early warnings are not only heard but acted upon.
Land-use planning is another pillar. Relocation, when unavoidable, must not mean uprooting people into poverty. Past resettlement efforts in Pakistan—from 2005 earthquake in Kashmir and Balakot, to Attabad in 2010 and 2020 — have demonstrated how poorly managed relocation deepens vulnerability. To succeed, new settlements must provide access to education, healthcare, markets, and jobs. Only then can people move with dignity rather than desperation.
Preparedness also needs to be decentralised. Time and again, when disasters strike, federal assistance reaches communities only after the damage is already done. District-level centres, equipped with drones, radios, and trained volunteers, could provide immediate response when valleys are cut off. Historical experience shows that local first responders are almost always the first and only line of defense in remote mountain terrain. Institutionalizing this reality is overdue.
Recovery cannot end with housing. Livelihoods must be restored. Agriculture requires investment in flood- and drought-tolerant crops, efficient irrigation, and crop insurance schemes. Tourism, a critical source of income, must shift toward sustainable models that protect fragile landscapes rather than exploit them. International research on mountain economies shows that well-managed eco-tourism strengthens resilience by linking conservation with livelihoods, while unchecked mass tourism accelerates ecological decline.
Institutionally, Gilgit-Baltistan needs a dedicated Climate Resilience Authority to coordinate planning, enforce zoning, and connect local needs with international climate finance. Though Pakistan contributes less than one percent of global emissions, it remains among the most climate-vulnerable countries, and Gilgit-Baltistan’s glaciers are central to the Indus River and the nation’s water security.
Gilgit-Baltistan is no longer only a landscape of beauty; it stands at the frontline of Pakistan’s climate challenge. Here, fragile ecosystems and governance gaps combine to exacerbate natural hazards into recurring disasters. Each season of floods is both a reminder of what has been lost and a warning of what lies ahead. The task now is to move beyond temporary relief and build lasting resilience. Safeguarding Gilgit-Baltistan is ultimately about protecting the upper and lower Indus basins, the lifeline of Pakistan’s water and livelihoods.


The High Asia Herald is a member of High Asia Media Group — a window to High Asia and Central Asia