by Yezdani Rahman, Regional Director, Programmes – Environment at SEEDS,
In early July 2025, Central Texas experienced severe flash flooding following a stalled weather system fueled by the remnants of Tropical Storm Barry. Some areas, including Kerr County, recorded over 20 inches of rainfall within a few hours – equivalent to nearly four months of average precipitation. The Guadalupe River rose more than 26 feet in less than an hour, leading to significant damage, particularly in summer camps, and resulting in over 120 reported fatalities. Many people remain unaccounted for, and emergency responders carried out extensive rescue operations amid communication challenges and delayed alerts.
At the same time, other regions across the United States, including parts of North Carolina, Chicago, and wildfire-affected zones in New Mexico, were also hit by intense storms. In Ruidoso, rapid rainfall caused the Rio Ruidoso to rise by 20 feet in just 90 minutes, resulting in residential flooding and several casualties.
These events drew widespread media coverage, highlighting both the human toll and growing concerns about how climate change is influencing the frequency and intensity of extreme weather events, such as flash floods.
Flash floods capture attention because they happen suddenly, take lives swiftly, and affect communities that have not yet been prepared to face a crisis. In parts of the world where such events are ritualised by season, however, they are gradually dropping off the news. In India, states like Assam grapple with seasonal floods that displace thousands, destroy livelihoods, and undo years of development – with little or no mention on the front pages of national dailies.
Assam’s floods are not new. They arrive almost like clockwork between May and September, triggered by heavy rainfall in the Brahmaputra basin. This year is no different. Over 24 lakh people across multiple districts have already been affected. Hundreds of relief camps have been set up. Crops have been washed away. Yet, the national headlines remain elsewhere.
One reason is the quiet normalisation of these disasters, especially by the media. When a crisis recurs year after year, it stops making headlines. Floods in Assam, once front-page news, have now become a grim seasonal routine, often pushed to the margins of national coverage. The media’s focus tends to stay on what is sudden, spectacular, or rare – not what is persistent. As a result, these disasters are now being classified more often under ‘low’ or ‘medium’ severity brackets – not because the suffering is any less, but because the threshold for alarm has silently shifted.
This reclassification has real consequences. It affects the scale of emergency response, the speed of aid, and even how resources are allocated. Communities often find themselves trapped in a cycle of flooding, displacement, and recovery, with a tiny margin for long-term adaptation. The perception that these floods are ‘routine’ makes it easier to overlook the deeper vulnerabilities they expose – fragile embankments, shrinking wetlands, inadequate early warning systems, and urban expansion into flood-prone areas.
Despite this, the people of Assam continue to show remarkable resilience. In many places, communities have taken it upon themselves to adapt and respond – from elevated housing to community-managed relief shelters. They carry this burden alone.
For the past several years, as part of the SEEDS team working in Assam, I have witnessed both the vulnerability and resilience of communities facing recurring floods. Reaching some of the most isolated villages often meant travelling by boat, carrying dry rations, hygiene kits, safe drinking water, and basic health support for families who had lost everything overnight. In relief camps, we created spaces where children could regain a sense of normalcy – through informal education, yoga, and simple health routines that helped ease the emotional toll. Recognising gender-specific risks, we organised safe spaces for women that included menstrual hygiene awareness sessions and safety training for nearly 700 women and adolescent girls, helping them stay safe and informed during the crisis.
Relief is only one part of the story. In regions where climate disasters are a regular threat, innovation becomes essential – not optional. It is how we move from short-term aid to long-term resilience. That innovation shines through our design work.
After the 2017 floods in Golaghat, we partnered with local community-based organisations to construct 80 stilt-based, bamboo-reinforced houses inspired by the traditional Chang Ghar – a raised housing style native to Assam’s floodplains. Indigenous techniques were blended with modern engineering, with particular focus on strengthening the foundation and tying systems. The structures were further upgraded with rubberised coatings, cross-bracing, and flexible joinery to improve resilience against floods and earthquakes. These homes, elevated above flood levels, have endured multiple flood events and provide not just shelter but dignity and safety to families.
To break this cycle of recurring devastation, we need to reimagine what resilience looks like – not just in policy documents, but on the ground, in people’s lives. At SEEDS, we follow a five-pillar approach that will enable communities to build their resilience strengthening early warning systems and community preparedness, ensuring timely relief and protection during disasters, supporting families to bounce back with dignity, enabling long-term changes in how people live and build and finally, building a future where communities do not just cope but thrive despite the odds.
This resilience framework isn’t a theory – it’s a lived strategy. It has guided our work for years, and it remains central to how we believe disaster resilience should be built: not as a reaction, but as a shared vision between communities, governments, and civil society.
Climate change is intensifying global weather patterns. Just as we discuss cloudbursts in Europe or wildfires in Canada, we must also discuss Assam. Ignoring these floods does not make them any less deadly. What it does is erode empathy, delay action, and deepen the sense of abandonment felt by those living through them year after year.
What Assam needs is not just aid – but attention. Not just relief – but recognition. These are not minor disasters. They are a humanitarian crisis unfolding in slow motion, and it is time we started seeing it that way.
The author is Regional Director, Programmes at the Environment at the Sustainable Environment and Ecological Development Society (SEEDS)