As the clouds gather and the skies turn grey, one thing becomes painfully predictable in Goa: the frantic scramble to complete pre-monsoon preparedness work. From the Corporation of the City of Panaji (CCP) to the 12 municipal councils and the 180-odd panchayats, every year witnesses a repetition of the same story—delayed drain cleaning, unpruned trees, roads left dug up, and power lines vulnerable to wind and rain.
The question that must be asked – loudly and repeatedly- is: why?
Is this failure the result of a shortage of funds? Unlikely. Every year, budgets are allocated for pre-monsoon work, and every year the same excuse of inadequate resources is trotted out. If funds are indeed sanctioned, then where is the delay? If not, then who is accountable for this critical oversight in planning and financing?
The more probable cause is institutional lethargy – a habitual procrastination deeply embedded in the functioning of our civic bodies.
Pre-monsoon preparedness is treated not as a planned preventive measure but as a reactionary drill, launched only when citizens begin to suffer the consequences. This indifference is most visible in urban and semi-urban areas where drains remain clogged until rainwater floods homes and roads.
Trees dangerously close to power lines are only trimmed after a major outage occurs. And year after year, citizens are expected to bear the brunt of this inefficiency without protest.
What’s worse is the utter lack of communication from authorities. There is no public timeline for pre-monsoon works, no ward-wise plans, no regular progress reports, and certainly no engagement with local communities.
In an era of real-time digital connectivity, the silence from municipal and panchayat offices is not just disappointing—it is a dereliction of duty.
Which brings us to the role of disaster management in Goa. The Goa State Disaster Management Authority (GSDMA) and district-level disaster management cells seem to operate with a narrow interpretation of their responsibilities.
Their visibility peaks only during cyclones, floods, or building collapses. But disaster management is not simply about rescue and relief – it is equally about risk reduction and preparedness.
Why is there no integrated pre-monsoon disaster preparedness plan issued publicly every January? Why aren’t mock drills conducted, vulnerable areas mapped, or early warning systems tested?
Last year, Goa received over 150 inches of rain – well above the normal mark of 120. This is a clear indicator that monsoons are becoming increasingly unpredictable and intense due to climate change.
Yet, the state’s administrative machinery appears stuck in a routine meant for an older climate reality.
The current planning cycle is reactive and outdated. The time to start pre-monsoon work is not May – but January. Dismissing the monsoon’s threats as “seasonal” undermines the growing environmental volatility we are all now subject to.
Take the roads, for example.
Instead of being repaired during the dry months, they are dug up for utility works and left unattended until the rains start. Hot mixing and asphalting projects begin in April and drag on into June – by which time the rain has made any progress moot.
Some roads are in such poor shape that they are barely visible, let alone motorable. This is not just inconvenient, it is dangerous.
The Goa government needs to implement structural reforms in how monsoon preparedness is approached. Pre-monsoon planning must be treated as an emergency management operation and not a routine civic task. Ward-wise and panchayat-level plans must be drawn up by January. Citizens must be informed of schedules and progress. Deadlines must be enforced, and punitive action taken against those who delay. Most importantly, disaster management must shift its focus to prevention, not just response.
What Goa needs is a coordinated effort—where local governance, disaster management authorities, and the state administration work together proactively. This coordination must be driven by transparency, accountability, and urgency.
The people of Goa deserve better than last-minute cleanups, flooded homes, and unsafe roads. If the state continues to ignore these warnings, the price will not just be an inconvenience – it could be a catastrophe.
The monsoon is not a surprise visitor – it arrives every year, on schedule. The real disaster is our refusal to prepare for it.
