When the Water Rises, Inequality Overflows
A Tale of a Foretold Tragedy
Tatiane Flores, a physical therapist in her early twenties, arrived at the place where her first-floor apartment used to stand. All she saw was a pile of mud and debris. The acrid smell of dirty water still lingered in the air. “ Now I come here and don’t even know if I have a home anymore. I only managed to leave with my son’s clothes,” she said, holding back tears. She, her husband and their seven year-old son had worked hard their entire lives to secure a home, and now, the battle was for survival itself. The home she had built, piece by piece, had been submerged, swallowed by the flood that devastated Rio Grande do Sul in Brazil. Tatiane is one of the thousand of victims of the 2024 floods that ravaged the state, a disaster that not only destroyed properties but also exposed the deep social inequalities that persist in the region.
Stories like Tatiane’s reveal a much larger issue: the impact of neglect on the lives of the most vulnerable populations. Watching news reports on the disaster, I realized that the floods were more than just an extreme weather event. They were the brutal reflection of social inequalities, decades of negligence, mismanagement and fiscal policies that only deepen in the murky waters of economic crisis. While some neighborhoods withstood the disaster, protected by modern infrastructure, the poorest communities crumbled under the force of the water current. Driven by curiosity, I decided to look at the city’s budget data. To my great shock and disbelief, the local government had not invested a single cent in the flood prevention system in 2023. The lack of investment in infrastructure and disaster prevention reveals a state in financial crisis, which may also have been worsened by the Kandir Law.
Victims of tragedy in Rio Grande do Sul report symptoms of derealisation, feeling as if reality has become distant and unfamiliar. The psychological scars of the disaster linger beyond the visible destruction. Picture credits: Isabelle Rieger/Sul21
To explain briefly, in 1996, the federal government implemented the Kandir Law, which exempted exports of primary and semi -processed goods from the “Tax on the Circulation of Goods and Services.” While this policy benefited agribusiness, it compromised state revenues. Without regular compensation from the federal government for this tax loss, Rio Grande do Sul accumulated alarming debt. According to National Treasury Secretariat reports, the state has debt of about hundred four billion reais, representing a 185 percent of its net revenue. This budgetary fragility directly impacted the flood containment infrastructure of the Guaíba and Gravataí Rivers, planned in the 1970s to protect Porto Alegre from flooding. However, negligence, lack of maintenance and equipment deterioration rendered the system inefficient. The result outraged thousand of Brazilians, who learned through radio and television that out of the 23 suction pumps needed during the flood, fewer than four functioned properly. To the public’s general shock, floodgates and containment barriers showed critical failures, and the lack of automated motors—stolen and never replaced—forced workers to close the floodgates manually. Additionally, incomplete sealing between gates and walls lefts gaps of up to four inches, through which water seeped in. Faced with all this, civil society questioned how many lives could have been saved if these investments had been made.
Invisible Wounds
For about two months, I read in the newspapers that many victims experiences a phenomenon called “derealization,” a defense mechanism that prevents the mind from immediately processing trauma. The shock was so overwhelming that some people refused to believe what they were seeing. It was distressing to witness how the loss of personal belongings also affected people’s self-identification, requiring them to reconstruct their personal and environmental references. In the face of an event of such magnitude, the way people see and understand the world around them is shaken. Much like during the pandemic, the abrupt suspension of normality generates a collective trauma that is difficult to overcome, evoking deep empathy in the hearts of the Brazilian people. Regardless of their own financial situation, thousands of people sent donations of food, water, clothes and money. Even a businessman who had been widely disliked by the public began gaining respect for sending helicopters, cars, and making his capital assets available to mitigate flood victims’ suffering. A nationally known influencer, famous for her extravagant lifestyle, donated 150,000 reais (about US$ 26.024,48) from her own pocket. Literally, no one was left behind.
Picture credits: Isabelle Rieger/Sul21
Ricardo Mello, 41, a tarot reader, found solace in reading to combat depression. Living in São Jerônimo, 43 miles from the capital, he opened his door and was met with the smell of mud and destruction. He had lost his collection of some 200 books. “ I sought refuge in books; they kept me balanced. I feel like I lost a part of myself,” he confided. When asking for donations on social media, he wrote, “ I suffer from severe depression, and reading makes me feel better.”
When the sky exploded in vibrant colors at sunset, Robson Pedruzzi always felt silent pain, the loss of his wife, Carolina Silveira Lopes. She had always loved capturing the spectacle with her camera. He imagines that she is the one choosing the colors from above, as if, in some way, she is still capturing the beauty of the world. Married to Robson and mother to five-year-old Maria Clara, she found happiness in small things—a warm hug, spontaneous laughter, the perfect camera click that immortalized moments. Her talent lay in telling stories through images, but her own story was abruptly and devastatingly cut short. On May 1, while returning from a work trip, a relentless storm turned into destruction. A sudden landslide took everyone by surprise, sweeping the photographer away in the floodwaters. But the tragedy was not just solely a consequence of nature’s fury—it also reflected longstanding challenges in risk management and infrastructure planning. The area where the landslide occurred had long been identified as high-risk for some time, yet financial limitations and competing priorities led to delays in flood prevention investments. Meanwhile, wealthier neighborhoods remained protected by better drainage systems and better maintained roads. Carolina’s death was not just a personal loss but also a reminder of broader vulnerabilities faced by communities with fewer resources in times of disasters. “Losing my wife is a hole in my chest, something I will have to somehow make a beautiful and full of flowers for my daughter and me”, Robson lamented. Between grief and the need to move forward, father and daughter find strength in each other. Maria Clara receives support from family and child therapy, but grief is a process that no one can rush. Access to mental health care, housing support, and financial aid after a disaster is not equal for everyone. Robson, in turn, clings to memories and faith, trying to believe that, in some way, his wife is still there, in the subtle details of everyday life.Yet, beyond their personal pain, the question lingers: how many more lives must be lost before real change is made?
Memories washed away. Among the debris left by the floods, personal belongings tell silent stories of loss. The tragedy in Rio Grande do Sul took not only homes but also irreplaceable fragments of people’s lives. Picture credits: Isabelle Rieger/Sul21
For many, psychological recovery will be more difficult than physical reconstruction. Access to mental health services is unequal, and those who need support the most are often the least able to obtain it. Time passes, and houses are rebuilt, but the minds of those who lost everything may take years to heal.
“We’ve always lived here because it was the only place we could afford,” said João, a resident of a flood-prone neighborhood in Porto Alegre, with whom I spoke casually (he didn’t give me his last name). “But when the rains come, we are the first to suffer.” This historical exclusion is a direct result of urban policies that prioritize economic growth over social equity, leaving vulnerable populations at the mercy of disasters. “We lost everything,” João reported. Now, he must rely on his own strength to rebuild.
What once was a home, now stands in ruins. The floods in Rio Grande do Sul left families with nothing but the wreckage of their lives, forcing them to rebuild from the ground up. Picture credits: Isabelle Rieger/Sul21
To prevent future foreseen disasters, it is urgent to review fiscal policies such as the Kandir Law, ensuring that states receive adequate compensation for lost revenue. Meanwhile, the poorest communities, living in high-risk areas, remain the most affected by floods, perpetuating a cycle of social injustice. As the sun set over the waters that covered parts of Rio Grande do Sul, the stories of João, Tatiane, Robson, Carolina and Ricardo remained. They are testimonies of pain and resilience from people who, even forgotten by the government, find the strength to carry on. Behind numbers and policies, there are lives that must be protected. Social justice begins with the prevention of tragedies like this.
Georgia Rodrigues is an economist who works for the Brazilian Government and a Ph.D. candidate at the Universidade Federal Rural do Rio de Janeiro. Her hobbies are walking, meeting people from different cultures and lifestyles, cooking and writing poetry. Her email is georgiarfs@gmail.com
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