IT is not often that ordinary villagers and technical experts converge in their observations. But in the case of Panjnad Barrage, they do. From Jalalpur Pirwala to Shujabad, people have spoken of the same strange sight during the last floods: the river flow was super slow. A peak flood wave that previously would cross the barrage in a few days, now lingered. One peak remained high for four to five days, and even after falling, the river stayed at flood-level flow for nearly 20 days.
Though there were indeed two flood peaks, this unexplained sluggishness left upstream areas inundated for much longer than expected. Jalalpur Pirwala town in particular bore the brunt. Why did the flood ebb so slowly, and who was responsible? An independent inquiry committee must be set up immediately to find out.
We should recall that rehabilitation and remodelling works on the barrage were completed as recently as March 2025. According to the Asian Development Bank (ADB), the joint rehabilitation of Trimmu and Panjnad Barrages involved a loan of millions of dollars. These works were meant to enable the barrage to allow a flood of 850,000 cusecs to pass safely and smoothly. Yet, flood peaks stayed mostly around 550,000 to 680,000 cusecs — high enough to cause the water to head up and pass sluggishly. What went wrong with a structure recently overhauled for enhanced flood levels?
The official design documents describe the chosen interventions in detail. The major works included: strengthening and replacement of gates, construction of a new stilling basin with a reinforced end sill, and the addition of “four depressed bays utilising the existing junction groyne with increased High Flood Level [HFL]”. The same report says: “River training embankments will be remodelled according to the raised HFL.” Briefly, the new design accepted a deliberate raising of the HFL upstream.
Here lies the core issue. As floodwaters have to rise higher upstream before depressed bays and end sills can work effectively, the river’s slope flattens and its speed decreases. Instead of rushing past, the flow starts to crawl. Combined with a concrete divide wall that alters flow patterns and adds turbulence, the entire system risks behaving like a secondary weir. Far from aiding the flood passage, these structures may have, inadvertently, throttled it. The result is prolonged inundation, higher upstream levels and misery for people in Jalalpur Pirwala and beyond.
What went wrong with a structure recently overhauled for enhanced flood levels?
Some explanation of these technical terms is needed. A depressed bay is a lowered gate bay meant to allow more water. If too few are provided, or if they are not deep enough, they only start operating when the water has risen dangerously. An end sill is a raised block at the end of the stilling basin to control the hydraulic jump; if too high or abrupt, it acts like a mini-dam. A divide wall separates different bay flows; if extended improperly, it can create eddies and backpressure.
Collectively, these features can raise upstream water levels instead of lowering them. The ADB report itself concedes that the selected option involved “increased HFL”. This is a smoking gun: the risk of upstream flooding was built into the design.
The case of Panjnad is not isolated. South Asia has a long history of engineering ‘solutions’ that turn into disasters. The World Bank-financed Left Bank Outfall Drain failed to drain stormwater and worsened sea intrusion in Sindh’s tidal regions. The ADB-funded Chashma Right Bank Canal Phase III had faulty cross-drainage and flood carrier channels; and hill torrents in 2022 drowned Taunsa Sharif.
Similarly, the World Bank-financed Taunsa Barrage Rehabilitation Project added a secondary weir downstream, which proved to be a blockage and broke the left marginal bund, submerging Kot Addu and Muzaffargarh during the 2010 flood. These failures were later partially acknowledged by World Bank and ADB inspection panels. Yet, people continue to pay the price through floods, lost livelihoods and the very loans that financed these disasters.
We now see the same pattern in Panjnad’s case. The rehabilitation design that was supposed to secure 850,000 cusecs has faltered even under 680,000 cusecs. The specific choices — depressed bays in the groyne, a reinforced end sill, and a divide wall — may have combined to slow the river and raise the HFL. Millions have been affected, and once again, foreign loans will have to be repaid for a project that may have worsened the disaster instead of preventing it.
Similarly, the case of the construction of the motorway across the drainage plains where the Sutlej and Chenab meet upstream of Panjnad Barrage is also intriguing. It has complicated and prolonged the flood event. The motorway obstructed the natural cross-drainage of the Sutlej, slowing its flow, forcing massive silt deposition, and eventually diverting the river’s course towards the eastern side of Jalapur town. This created breaches in the motorway at several points, leading to extended closures and inundation of lands that had never been flooded before.
The trapped water formed an artificial lake stretching 12 to 15 kilometres. So, why did the motorway’s design fail to account for the cross-drainage challenges of this complex hydrological region? Why was a route chosen through flood-prone terrain instead of the safer eastern corridor along the railway and National Highway? These questions again expose systemic failure in infrastructure planning — projects conceived in offices without field-level understanding of the local geography, river behaviour, or community vulnerability.
Accountability is essential. An independent inquiry must assess the role of barrage remodelling and construction of the motorway in the complex Panjnad hydrology in this prolonged flood. But beyond accountability lies a larger question: must we continue with our colonial-era hydraulic thinking that treats rivers as machines to be throttled?
The Indus basin needs not just barrages and loans; it needs a new imagination of river ecology. Natural drainage must be restored, rivers must be given more room, and climate change adaptation must be central to planning. Above all, local communities and regions like Seraiki Wasaib must have autonomy to shape their water future, instead of being drowned in the name of mega development and infrastructure projects.
The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.
Published in Dawn, October 15th, 2025
