Pregnant Women Endure Unseen Struggles in Punjab’s Flood-Hit Relief Camps
In overcrowded makeshift shelters, women face health risks, lack of medicine, and silent battles with stigma as floods displace millions across Punjab.

In a former classroom now transformed into a relief camp, pregnant women huddle together on thin sheets, their bodies aching from exhaustion and their faces carrying the weight of uncertainty. The devastating floods that swept through Punjab have not only washed away homes but also stripped thousands of women of the dignity and care they desperately need.
Nineteen-year-old Shumaila Riaz, seven months pregnant with her first child, has spent the past four days in this camp in Chung, a town on the outskirts of Lahore. She describes enduring painful cramps without access to proper medical care. “I wanted to think about the child I am going to have,” she said softly, “but now I am not even certain about my own future.”
Fatima, another young mother who is four months pregnant, echoed the same despair. Clad in the same clothes she has worn for days, her hair unbrushed, she recounted the life she once had before the floods. “I used to eat as I pleased, sleep as I pleased, walk as I pleased — that is all gone now. I can’t do that here. My body aches a lot, and I can’t get the medicines I need.”
The camp, overcrowded with more than 2,000 people, offers little privacy and limited access to basic necessities. Surrounded by stagnant rainwater and mud, women struggle with needs often overlooked in emergencies. Sanitary pads are scarce, bathrooms are either non-existent or too unsafe, and the stigma surrounding menstruation makes it harder for women to ask for help. “We are struggling to get pads for when we get our period,” said Aleema Bibi, a mother of three, as her baby slept on a mud-stained sheet. “Even if we manage to get them, there are no proper bathrooms to use.”
Jameela, another displaced woman, explained that she often waits until men in nearby homes leave before she sneaks in to use their bathrooms. “We wait for men to leave so that we can change in peace. This is how we are surviving.”
The scale of the disaster is staggering. Provincial officials report that more than two million people have been affected, with 750,000 evacuated, including 115,000 rescued by boat. It has become the largest rescue operation in Punjab’s history. Yet, the numbers alone fail to capture the daily struggles of women living in these camps. Outside one medical truck stationed near the shelter, a distressed woman pleaded for help for her daughter-in-law, eight months pregnant and suddenly in labor.
Doctors working in the camps describe overwhelming conditions. “I receive around 200 to 300 patients every day with different infections and waterborne diseases,” said Fahad Abbas, a 27-year-old doctor volunteering at a mobile health unit. “There are many patients here who are going through psychological trauma, especially women and children who lost their homes.”
The risks extend beyond immediate health concerns. Pregnant women face increased vulnerability to infections, malnutrition, and delivery complications. Even before the floods, Pakistan faced alarmingly high maternal and infant mortality rates, with hundreds of newborns and mothers dying daily from preventable causes. The current crisis has only amplified the fragility of women’s lives.
For many, the emotional toll is as severe as the physical. A woman who chose to remain anonymous shared how the medicine she once relied on for menstrual cramps is now too expensive or impossible to find. “We escaped death,” she said with tears in her eyes, “but this misery is no less than death either.”
Climate change looms over the tragedy, making seasonal monsoons increasingly unpredictable and deadly across South Asia. Landslides and floods triggered by unusually heavy rains have already claimed more than 850 lives nationwide this season. For the women of Chung and countless others scattered across relief camps, survival has become a daily negotiation against hunger, pain, and despair. Amidst mud, overcrowding, and trauma, they continue to endure — their resilience a quiet but powerful act of resistance against forces far beyond their control.






