Imagine waking up to find your life's work—lush orchards bursting with vibrant fruit—withering away due to an unseen enemy. That's the heartbreaking reality facing guava farmers in Kohat right now, where thousands of acres of beloved orchards are suffering massive losses from a mysterious disease. But here's where it gets controversial: is this just bad luck, or a wake-up call for better farming practices? Stick around to uncover the details and decide for yourself.
Let's dive into the heart of the issue. For decades, guava plantations in areas like Jawanda, Ustarzai, Rawalpindi Road, Shiekhan, Hangu Road, and near the Tanda Dam have been the pride of Kohat district, producing fruit that's renowned across Pakistan for its exceptional taste, alluring aroma, and striking color. However, this year, an unidentified ailment has ravaged these orchards, wiping out entire crops and leaving farmers in financial despair. To help beginners grasp this, think of it like a sudden blight on a garden—something that spreads quietly unless caught early, much like how a weed can overtake a flower bed if not managed properly.
The deputy director of the agricultural department, Shakirullah, points out that the problem stems from orchard owners not spraying their entire areas at the same time. This lack of coordinated action allowed the disease to infect some farms, which then spread to others. It's a classic case of community effort gone wrong—if everyone doesn't pitch in together, the whole group suffers. But is it fair to pin the blame solely on farmers? Some might argue that government support or better resources could have prevented this, sparking a debate on responsibility in agriculture. And this is the part most people miss: without synchronized spraying, even healthy trees become vulnerable, turning a preventable issue into a full-blown crisis.
One farmer, Mamoor, who owns an orchard of 800 trees in Muhammadzai, shared his frustration with Dawn. Normally, these trees bloom in late July, yielding a plentiful harvest from September to January. But this season, the disease has devastated all the local orchards, destroying what should have been a bountiful yield. Imagine the disappointment of nurturing trees for months, only to see the fruits—literally—go to waste. This highlights how unpredictable nature can be, yet it also raises questions about adapting farming methods in the face of climate change or emerging threats.
Adding to the woes, a lack of rainfall has hampered the planting of key crops like wheat, mustard, gram, and maize. Farmers are vocal about another challenge: the dropping water levels in Tanda Dam, which means irrigation canals aren't reaching the middle and tail-end farms. To clarify for newcomers, irrigation systems are like lifelines for crops, delivering water from reservoirs through canals—when levels drop, it's like a fountain running dry, leaving fields parched and unproductive.
However, Arsalan Wazir, the sub-divisional officer of the irrigation department, explains that farms along the 84-kilometer canal are now receiving water after recent efforts to raise the dam to its full capacity of 72,000 acre feet. Still, he notes a significant drawback: about half of that capacity has been lost to siltation since the dam started operating in 1968. Think of siltation as gradual dirt buildup in a bathtub—it reduces the overall volume, making the dam less effective over time. This begs a controversial question: should more funds be allocated for dam maintenance, or is it time to explore modern alternatives like rainwater harvesting? It's a point that could ignite discussions on infrastructure priorities in rural areas.
Shifting gears to public health, there's another hurdle in Kohat: the measles and rubella vaccination campaign is hitting snags. Parents in neighborhoods like Junglekhel and the old city are hesitant to vaccinate their children, fueled by misconceptions—perhaps rumors about side effects or doubts about vaccine safety. But here's where it gets intriguing: is this hesitation rooted in genuine concerns, or amplified by misinformation in an era of social media?
Commissioner Syed Motasim Billah Shah stepped in, visiting households with health department officials, World Health Organization representatives, regional coordinator Dr. Saifullah, and expanded programme on immunization officer Dr. Amjad. They engaged parents in open conversations, stressing the vaccines' safety and their crucial role in protecting community health—preventing outbreaks that could harm not just kids, but entire families. For beginners, vaccines work by training the body to fight diseases, much like a practice drill for soldiers, building immunity without the risk of full-blown illness.
After addressing questions on the spot, the parents ultimately agreed to vaccinate their children. It's a win for dialogue, showing how education can overcome fears. Yet, this raises a thought-provoking counterpoint: in a world of growing vaccine skepticism, should governments mandate vaccinations, or focus more on education? It's the kind of debate that divides opinions.
Published in Dawn, November 19th, 2025. What do you think—do farmers bear full responsibility for crop diseases, or is systemic change needed? And on vaccinations, where do you stand on balancing personal choice with public health? Share your views in the comments below; let's keep the conversation going!
