In Bhutan, a country blessed with abundant rivers and pristine glacial streams, the scarcity of drinking and irrigation water is a paradox so glaring that it borders on tragic irony. Our hills and valleys are dotted with natural springs, and our Constitution enshrines environmental protection as a national priority. Yet, rural communities struggle daily to secure enough water for basic needs.

The debate rages on: Is this a consequence of climate change? Many point to shifting rainfall patterns, receding glaciers, and prolonged dry spells as evidence of a warming planet wreaking havoc on our water resources. Others, however, argue that the root of the problem lies closer to home—mismanagement of resources, aging infrastructure, and eroding communal responsibility. Whichever perspective one adopts, the reality remains stark: water shortages persist, and in some areas, they are becoming alarmingly acute.

Interventions to address this issue have been substantial. Large-scale water projects, from modernising distribution systems to building reservoirs, have been launched with the aim of bringing relief to water-starved communities. Yet the results are uneven. Some villages continue to face acute shortages, while even urban areas occasionally experience disruptions. It is becoming increasingly evident that while infrastructure is essential, it alone cannot solve the problem.

This calls for introspection. Instead of dwelling on the never-ending debate about whether climate change or mismanagement is to blame, it may be time to focus on individual and collective responsibility. After all, water is not just a commodity to be delivered but also a resource to be safeguarded.

A shining example of community-led water management can be found in Sakteng, Trashigang, where the traditional role of chhusups—water caretakers—has been revived and adapted to modern needs. By taking ownership of their water sources and distribution, the people of Sakteng have demonstrated that pragmatic solutions rooted in communal effort and accountability can work. Their approach is a reminder that sustainable water management starts at the grassroots level.

As Bhutan’s population grows and urban areas expand, the demand for water will only intensify. Already, larger towns and cities are feeling the pressure, a forewarning of what could become a national crisis if proactive steps are not taken. This is not a problem that the government alone can solve. Communities must reclaim their role as custodians of their own resources. At the same time, individuals must adopt water-saving practices in their homes and fields.

Water is life, indeed. For a country like Bhutan, where water flows abundantly, its scarcity should never have been a concern. Yet here we are, faced with the cruel irony of our own inaction and indifference.

It is time to move beyond debates and excuses and embrace the responsibility that comes with safeguarding our most precious resource. Let Sakteng inspire us, and let our collective will define a future where water shortages are no longer a part of our narrative.

The rivers still flow, but for how long?