July 1, 2025
THIMPHU – As the early rains of the monsoon settle into Bhutan’s valleys and mountains, the land is already showing signs of strain. Roads have begun to buckle, hillsides to slide, and social media is awash with footage of mudslides and rockfalls. These are the first signals of a season that will grow more dangerous in the weeks to come. If ignored, as always, these warnings will translate into tragedy.
The monsoon is not a new challenge. Every year, it tests our resilience. Roads are washed away, bridges collapse, vehicles are stranded or swept off cliffs, and lives are lost. Yet each year, we seem to be caught off guard, as if the rains had arrived without warning. The reality is that the signs are always there—louder than ever in today’s digital age where a single video can show a boulder crashing onto a road seconds after a car passes. These are not just viral clips; they are urgent calls for caution.
Road safety, especially during the monsoon, is not a matter of luck—it is a matter of discipline. Drivers must slow down. Transport agencies must monitor high-risk zones with greater vigilance. Travellers must weigh need against risk. No meeting or errand is worth navigating a falling hillside. The very mountains that cradle us can turn deadly in an instant.
So, government agencies and local authorities must be on high alert, not reactive. Block-prone areas like Sarpang, Lhamoizingkha in Dagana, Tsirang, Zhemgang, and the infamous Narphung stretch are known culprits. Yet year after year, warnings come too late.
Machinery should be pre-positioned, drainage systems cleared, and communication lines kept open. In 2019, the delay in clearing the Samdrupjongkhar-Trashigang highway left entire communities cut off for days. Such lapses are not inevitable—they are the result of insufficient preparation.
But the responsibility does not lie with the state alone. Commuters must take ownership of their safety. Sharing landslide videos is not enough. If you see danger, report it. If your travel can wait, delay it. We are too quick to blame fate and too slow to change behaviour.
Here is a simple analogy: if a house has a leaking roof, no one waits until their bed is soaked to fix it. They prepare. The rainy season should be no different. We know the roof is leaking—we see it in the soil running down the hills, in the gushing drains, in the darkening skies. Waiting for disaster is not bravery; it is negligence.
Every monsoon fatality should not be just a statistic because it is a preventable loss—a child left without a parent, a community cut from its lifeline, a country mourning yet another casualty in a predictable cycle.
The rains have only begun. If we fail to listen now, the season will not forgive us later.