Heavy rains in May 2023 battered
Rwanda. Rivers overflowed. Hillsides collapsed into mud. When the waters
finally subsided, more than 130 lives had been lost on a devastating scale.
News coverage flooded in fast. It
tallied casualties. It captured rescue efforts. It shared survivor stories. Yet
one key question lingered unanswered: Why those particular victims?
Why did an elderly grandmother
perish in her sleep, while her middle-aged daughter nearby made it through? Why
did a family in a low-lying home vanish, while uphill neighbors escaped
unharmed? Why did so many tragedies strike in the dead of night, not broad
daylight?
These aren't grim curiosities. They're vital scientific inquiries. Without addressing them, our flood alerts will repeat, and so will the heartbreak.
Houses that kill and houses that save
In Rwanda, housing quality varies
enormously. A reinforced concrete house on a hillside might survive a moderate
flood. A mud-brick house in a low-lying area will not. But official
vulnerability maps rarely include housing construction type, what make one
I would ask: of the 130 deceased,
how many lived in mud-brick vs. fired-brick vs. concrete homes? How many were
in valley vs. slopes? How many had a second floor to escape to? Without
this data, we build flood models that predict water depth but not who dies.
Why Some Neighbors Survive
Perhaps the most painful question
is also the most useful: why was one swept away by raging floodwaters while
their neighbor's building collapsed on them? Possible answers include:
One dug a hole in the house to
let water flow through; the other lacked a hoe or tools.
One had a family member who woke
them; the other lived alone.
One perished from landslide
debris, the other from flood surge.
Did all victims die on the spot,
or some later at the hospital?
These aren't random factors. They
are measurable. And they point directly to interventions: household drainage
tools, night wake-up plans, slope stabilization, and better medical
evacuations.
The deadly difference of night
vs. day
The timing of a flood can mean
life or death. Daytime floods give warning signs: dark skies, rising water,
neighbors shouting. Nighttime floods give none. People sleep. Rain masks the
sound of approaching water.
Many May 2023 deaths occurred
between midnight and 7 a.m. That is not a coincidence. It is a design flaw in
our early warning systems, which still rely heavily on visual and audible
alerts that do not work when people are unconscious.
Age as a hidden factor?
Most disaster reports list ages
of the deceased. Few analyze them. In the May 2023 floods, I suspect two age
groups were overrepresented: the very young (under 15) and the elderly (over
65). Does the young cannot run or climb to safety?. The elderly may have
limited mobility, hearing loss (unable to hear warning shouts), or chronic
illness that slows escape.
Working-age adults, by contrast,
are more likely to react quickly. If we do not track this pattern, our flood
response remains blind. We warn everyone equally, but not everyone can respond
equally.
Closing the gap
Most disaster research focuses on
survivors. That makes sense survivors can talk. But it creates a blind spot.
The deceased cannot speak, but their patterns can. A true vulnerability
analysis does not just ask "how many died?" It asks "who, where,
when, and in what kind of house?"
Rwanda has made progress in flood
mitigation and response. But alone do not save lives. Understanding
vulnerability does. The May 2023 floods gave us 130 reasons to start asking
better questions. Let us not waste them.


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