Flood season all too familiar story for First Nations

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 14/04/2023 (925 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

April 14 was a new day in Peguis First Nation.

A week ago, longtime chief Glenn Hudson and former chief Cindy Spence were defeated in an election by local school psychologist and political newcomer Stan Bird.

On Friday, the community held a public inauguration at the community arena for the new chief and council.

However, it was also a very familiar day for Peguis residents, as the province announced the community some 170 kilometres north of Winnipeg had been placed under a flood watch, due to the rising Fisher River.

It’s spring time in Manitoba, also known as flood season for its First Nations.

Over three-quarters of First Nations and Métis communities in the province have been impacted by flooding. For media, it’s not a matter of stories about whether Indigenous communities will flood, but how much.

Last month, the Manitoba Hydrologic Forecast Centre issued a report announcing a “major flood risk” was likely along the banks of the Red River, from the U.S. border to the floodway entry, south of Winnipeg.

It also predicted a “low to moderate” risk along the Icelandic and Fisher rivers.

On the Icelandic River, this would mean communities such as Riverton (which went on flood watch Friday) and Arborg would be threatened. Arguably, the flooding in these places won’t be devastating, as millions of taxpayer dollars have been used to build protect for those towns.

Peguis, which sits on the Fisher River, gets no such consideration. The community has flooded a half-dozen times over the past two decades (with last year being the worst).

The community still hasn’t recovered from 2022. Nearly 1,000 Peguis citizens are still displaced and living in hotels, unable to return to their homes.

This is just a cup in an ocean of trauma: students have lost swaths of education and opportunities; elders have suffered living a transient lifestyle; families exist under stifling stress.

Last month, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was asked about flooding at Peguis. “We know the people of Peguis has faced extreme difficulty going back to the flood of 2011,” Trudeau said. “We need to do more.”

“More” for the Trudeau Liberals has come in a $64-million flood hazard identification and mapping program, which is in the process of producing data that will “inform decision making in support of flood mitigation, adaptation to a changing climate, resilience building, and protection of lives and properties.”

It will assist communities across the country — and First Nations in particular — in preparing for future floods.

For close to the same amount, it would cost $80-$100 million to flood-proof Peguis First Nation. Add in the cost to taxpayers to house 1,000 people in hotels for a year.

In 2017, then-Manitoba premier Brian Pallister promised to build channels to protect Indigenous communities impacted by flooding by Lake Manitoba and Lake St. Martin.

Last October, the provincial government offered 39 Indigenous groups a chance to “apply” to a $15-million fund to deal with the same issue (around $400,000 each).

The estimated cost to build the channels megaproject and protect communities is $600 million.

Meanwhile, governments have protected some First Nations.

Over the past decade, almost $55 million has been spent on building dikes and flood-proofing communities such as Sioux Valley, Opaskwayak, Ebb and Flow, Sandy Bay, O-Chi-Chak-Ko-Sipi, and Poplar River. In Roseau River, a permanent ring dike protects that community.

This year, in addition to Peguis, communities such as Sagkeeng, Pine Creek, Sapotaweyak, Rolling River, Sandy Bay, Pauingassi, Long Plain and even Roseau River and Ebb and Flow all face prospects of flooding.

Can you imagine the outcry if politicians went around Manitoba choosing which communities would be protected by flooding while others would be left to the mercy of water?

No one would tolerate it. There would be calls for resignations, accountability, and accusations of favouritism and political opportunism. At the very least: demands for humanity.

Yet, flooding happens with Indigenous communities all the time. It’s a very familiar story.

niigaan.sinclair@freepress.mb.ca