Deforestation: Sindh's Silent Climate Disaster

Everyone must play a part

Climate change is no longer a warning about the future; it is the defining reality of Pakistan's present. From the rapidly melting glaciers of Gilgit-Baltistan to recurring floods in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, prolonged droughts in Balochistan, and intensifying heatwaves and water shortages across Punjab, every province is confronting a different face of the same crisis.

The Pakistan Economic Survey 2025–26 acknowledges that climate change has become one of the country's gravest economic and environmental challenges, affecting agriculture, water security, public health and infrastructure. The World Bank's Pakistan Country Climate and Development Report and recent IMF assessments say the same: despite contributing less than one per cent of global greenhouse gas emissions, Pakistan remains among the countries most vulnerable to climate change.

Among all the provinces, however, Sindh stands on the front line. Few regions face such a dangerous combination of extreme heat, shrinking forests, sea intrusion, erratic monsoons, water scarcity and rapid desertification. If the rest of Pakistan is feeling the effects of climate change, Sindh is living through its consequences every day. Jacobabad has repeatedly been counted among the hottest places on Earth, with temperatures exceeding 50°C. An exceptional weather event is gradually becoming the new normal.

Dadu, Larkana, Sukkur, Khairpur, Shaheed Benazirabad, Hyderabad and several other districts now experience longer summers, shorter winters and increasingly unpredictable rainfall. These changes are no longer confined to meteorological records; they are reflected in declining crop yields, worsening water shortages, growing health emergencies and mounting economic losses. Cotton, wheat, sugarcane and chilli, the backbone of Sindh's agriculture, are increasingly exposed to prolonged heat stress. Wheat suffers when high temperatures arrive during grain formation, while cotton and chilli production decline under extreme heat and erratic rainfall.

Livestock productivity falls as grazing lands deteriorate and water becomes scarce. Along the coast, seawater intrusion and rising salinity threaten fisheries and fertile farmland that have sustained communities for generations. Karachi, Pakistan's economic engine, now swings between acute water shortages during summer and destructive urban flooding whenever heavy monsoon rains overwhelm an already fragile drainage system. Informal settlements bear the heaviest burden, suffering repeated displacement, disease outbreaks and economic hardship.

Climate change alone, however, does not explain why Sindh is becoming increasingly vulnerable. Nature is under pressure, but many of the forces weakening the province's resilience originate from human neglect, poor governance and the relentless destruction of natural ecosystems. No environmental loss illustrates this failure more clearly than the steady disappearance of Sindh's forests.

Often described as the lungs of the planet, their role extends far beyond absorbing carbon dioxide. They regulate local temperatures, recharge groundwater, stabilize riverbanks, reduce soil erosion, shelter wildlife, improve rainfall patterns and protect communities from floods, dust storms and extreme heat.

Riverine forests along the Indus and mangrove forests in the delta are among Sindh's most valuable natural assets. Losing them means losing one of the province's strongest defences against climate change. Pakistan already possesses one of the lowest forest covers in South Asia, with forests occupying only a small proportion of its land area. Within Sindh, the riverine forests stretching from Guddu to Kotri once formed one of the region's richest ecological corridors. Today, many of these forests have been reduced to fragmented patches.

Protecting Sindh's forests is therefore not simply about conserving trees. It is about protecting agriculture, safeguarding water, preserving biodiversity, defending public health and securing the future of generations yet to come. If the forests fall silent, Sindh will not be the only place that burns; the consequences will be felt across Pakistan.

In Kachho, parts of Dadu, Jamshoro and neighbouring districts, the landscape continues to lose indigenous trees such as babul, kandi, neem, ber and tamarisk. These species have evolved over centuries to withstand harsh climatic conditions while protecting soil, conserving moisture and supporting wildlife. Once mature trees disappear, decades are required to replace the ecological services they provided free of cost. Anyone travelling through parts of upper Sindh or the Kachho belt can witness timber depots operating openly and vehicles transporting large quantities of wood along public roads. Such scenes inevitably raise uncomfortable questions.

Illegal logging on this scale cannot reasonably be viewed as the work of isolated individuals. Its persistence points towards serious shortcomings in monitoring, enforcement and accountability. When forests continue to shrink despite existing laws, specialised departments and repeated public commitments, people are entitled to ask whether environmental protection has truly become a governance priority.

The Sindh Forest Department carries the primary responsibility for protecting reserved forests, preventing illegal felling and prosecuting offenders. Yet the continued depletion of forest resources suggests that enforcement does not match the threat. Plantation campaigns undoubtedly have value, but they cannot compensate for the daily loss of mature forests. A sapling planted today may take 30-40 years to perform the ecological functions of a fully grown babul tree cut down within minutes by a chainsaw.

The problem extends beyond Kachho. Riverine forests along the Indus face pressure from illegal timber extraction, encroachments and weak protection. These forests moderate floods by slowing water flow, strengthen riverbanks against erosion, recharge groundwater and provide habitat for countless species of birds and wildlife. Their disappearance increases environmental risks far beyond the districts in which the trees are felled.

The Indus Delta presents another warning. Mangrove forests protect coastal settlements from tidal surges and cyclones while sustaining fisheries that support thousands of livelihoods. Reduced freshwater flows, seawater intrusion, pollution and human encroachment continue to threaten these ecosystems despite restoration efforts that have shown encouraging results in some locations. 

Protecting mangroves is essential for safeguarding coastal communities and preserving Pakistan's blue economy. Tharparkar tells a different story of the same crisis. Rising temperatures, recurring droughts and the gradual loss of native vegetation are pushing an already fragile ecosystem closer to ecological distress. Indigenous trees such as khejri and ber are indispensable for conserving soil moisture, providing shade, supporting livestock and maintaining biodiversity. Their protection is inseparable from the survival of the communities dependent on them.

The environmental consequences of deforestation extend well beyond the loss of trees. Forests slow rainwater runoff, allowing water to seep underground and replenish aquifers. As forest cover declines, groundwater falls, fertile soil erodes more rapidly and dust storms become more frequent. Every heatwave grows harsher because fewer trees remain to moderate local temperatures. Every drought becomes worse because the landscape loses its capacity to retain moisture. Climate change intensifies these pressures, while deforestation removes one of nature's most effective defences against them. The economic consequences are equally severe. Agriculture, livestock, fisheries and forestry collectively support millions of livelihoods across Sindh. Every failed harvest, every shrinking grazing area and every damaged ecosystem pushes more families towards poverty. Rural households increasingly migrate to urban centres where employment opportunities, housing and public services are already under immense strain. Climate-induced migration may temporarily relieve individual families, but it transfers environmental distress into economic and social pressures for cities themselves struggling to cope.

Public health is also becoming a casualty. Heatstroke, dehydration and respiratory illnesses increase as temperatures rise and green spaces disappear. Hospitals across Sindh experience mounting pressure during prolonged heatwaves, while floods leave behind stagnant water that encourages dengue, malaria and other vector-borne diseases.

The disappearance of forests also weakens biodiversity. Birds, reptiles, mammals and countless smaller species perform ecological functions that often go unnoticed until they disappear. Many control agricultural pests naturally, reducing the need for chemical pesticides. Others contribute to pollination and seed dispersal. Destroying forests means dismantling ecological systems that have evolved over centuries and cannot easily be recreated. Pakistan has not ignored climate change at the policy level.

The country has updated its Nationally Determined Contributions under the Paris Agreement, introduced adaptation frameworks and launched initiatives such as Living Indus. Sindh has announced programmes for forest restoration, mangrove conservation and climate resilience. Yet policies alone cannot cool rising temperatures or restore disappearing forests. Their success depends entirely upon consistent implementation, transparent governance and measurable outcomes. 

Pakistan has also received substantial international climate support while repeatedly highlighting its vulnerability on global platforms. At the same time, international assessments estimate that the country's adaptation needs will continue to grow sharply over the coming years. Climate finance must therefore produce visible improvements on the ground rather than remain confined to reports, workshops and official announcements.

Protecting Sindh's forests demands far more than annual plantation ceremonies. It requires continuous monitoring through satellite imagery, geographic information systems and independent forest audits. Cases of illegal logging must be investigated promptly, and those found responsible through due legal process— whether private individuals or public officials— should face meaningful legal consequences. Environmental crimes should never be treated as minor regulatory violations.

Law-enforcement agencies have an equally important role. Organised timber smuggling networks cannot be dismantled without intelligence-based operations, stronger coordination with the Forest Department and effective enforcement of transport regulations.

If illegally harvested timber repeatedly reaches markets, the system responsible for preventing such activity deserves careful scrutiny and reform. Universities, journalists, civil society organisations and development partners must also become active participants in environmental protection. Independent research, investigative reporting, community monitoring and environmental education can strengthen public oversight and ensure that forests are valued as national assets rather than sources of short-term commercial profit.

The future of Sindh will not be decided solely by the next heatwave or the next flood. It will be shaped by the choices made today. If forests continue to disappear while temperatures continue to rise, the province will become increasingly difficult to inhabit. The day may come when travellers search desperately for the shade of a single tree or outdoor labour during daylight becomes a serious threat to human health.

That future is not inevitable, but avoiding it requires immediate action. Migration from climate-stressed regions cannot be accepted as a long-term solution. A province emptied of its people and stripped of its forests would represent a collective failure of governance and environmental stewardship.

Protecting Sindh's forests is therefore not simply about conserving trees. It is about protecting agriculture, safeguarding water, preserving biodiversity, defending public health and securing the future of generations yet to come. If the forests fall silent, Sindh will not be the only place that burns; the consequences will be felt across Pakistan.