Families across Pakistan’s eastern Punjab province are finally making their way back home after weeks of devastating monsoon floods, officials confirmed on Monday. The receding waters mark a turning point for a region battered by relentless rains and swollen rivers that, according to the Associated Press, displaced more than 2.5 million people and claimed the lives of around 100 during the summer deluge.
For many, the return is bittersweet. Images posted on social media paint a grim picture: once-lush fields, once the pride of local farmers, are now buried beneath thick layers of sand and silt. The challenge ahead is daunting—villagers must not only rebuild their shattered homes but also replant crops that were washed away almost overnight.
“We waded through 5 to 6 feet of water to reach a safe place, but the flood came so suddenly that we couldn’t take even a needle with us,” recounted Nargis Bibi, a 46-year-old resident of Kasur district, in a quote shared by several outlets including AP and the BBC. “When we returned, everything was destroyed.” Her story echoes across the province, as thousands face the same uphill battle of starting over with little more than the clothes on their backs.
The floods, triggered by a lethal combination of torrential monsoon rains and repeated water releases from overflowing dams in neighboring India, inundated more than 4,500 villages in Punjab alone, according to the Punjab Disaster Management Authority. The confluence of the Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej rivers at Panjnad—where water levels are now finally dropping—became a focal point of the disaster. Irfan Ali Kathia, director general of the provincial authority, told the Associated Press that water flow in the Ravi and Chenab rivers has returned to normal, while the Sutlej river is steadily receding.
Relief and rescue operations are still ongoing in several districts, officials said. Provincial teams, supported by the military, have mounted one of Punjab’s largest rescue and relief missions in recent memory. Stranded families in remote areas such as Liaquatpur and Jalalpur Pirwala continue to receive assistance, while many displaced people have already returned to homes in Narowal, Okara, Kasur, Bahawalpur, and Bahawalnagar.
Muhammad Sajjad, a 43-year-old farmer from an orchard-owning family near Multan, described how floodwaters from the Chenab river had receded by about 6 feet, finally allowing his family to return home. But for Sajjad and countless others, the road to recovery is long. “We will have to replant everything while rebuilding our homes,” he said, highlighting the dual burden faced by so many rural families.
The crisis was not entirely unforeseen. According to Pakistan’s National Disaster Management Authority, India shared at least six flood alerts with Pakistan in recent weeks. However, Pakistani officials have criticized their neighbor’s handling of the crisis, arguing that the flooding would have been less severe if India had released water from its dams in a more gradual manner. The sudden surges, they contend, swelled rivers in Punjab and caused significant damage. This cross-border tension is not new—river management has long been a source of friction between the two nations, particularly during the monsoon season.
Authorities have urged returning families to comply with instructions from local administrators in order to access government support or, if their villages are still deemed unsafe, to remain temporarily in relief camps. The Punjab Disaster Management Authority emphasized the importance of following these guidelines to ensure both safety and access to much-needed aid.
As the waters recede in Punjab, the floodwaters are now moving south toward Sindh province—a region that, in 2022, endured the worst of Pakistan’s catastrophic floods, which killed more than 1,700 people nationwide. The memory of that disaster still looms large, fueling anxiety among residents and officials alike as they brace for the possibility of further devastation downstream.
Since late June 2025, more than 950 people have died nationwide as a result of flooding, according to the National Disaster Management Authority. The scale of the humanitarian crisis is staggering: millions have lost their homes, livelihoods, and, in many cases, family members. Relief efforts have been stretched thin, with local authorities and the military working around the clock to deliver food, clean water, and medical supplies to those in need.
Despite the challenges, there are glimmers of resilience and determination among the affected communities. In Narowal, Okara, Kasur, Bahawalpur, and Bahawalnagar, many families have begun the slow process of recovery, salvaging what they can and looking to the future with cautious hope. Still, the scars left by the floods—both physical and emotional—will take years to heal.
The government has pledged to support the rebuilding process, but questions remain about the adequacy and speed of aid distribution. With so many villages inundated and infrastructure severely damaged, getting resources to the hardest-hit areas has been a logistical nightmare. In remote regions like Liaquatpur and Jalalpur Pirwala, where access is limited, stranded families are still waiting for consistent assistance.
As the people of Punjab begin to pick up the pieces, the broader implications of the disaster are coming into focus. The floods have not only destroyed homes and crops but have also exposed longstanding vulnerabilities in Pakistan’s disaster preparedness and cross-border water management. The debate over India’s dam releases has reignited calls for better communication and cooperation between the two countries—something that, in practice, has proven challenging amid ongoing political tensions.
For now, the priority remains immediate relief and recovery. But as officials and residents alike have pointed out, the cycle of monsoon flooding is likely to continue unless more robust solutions are found. The resilience of Punjab’s people is undeniable, but so too is the need for systemic change—both at home and across the border.
In the months ahead, the true test will be whether lessons from this year’s disaster can translate into better preparedness for the future. For families like Nargis Bibi’s and Muhammad Sajjad’s, the hope is simple: that the next monsoon season will bring rain for crops, not ruin for their homes.