So, it rained. A lot. In Southern Africa, the sky decided it was tired of holding back and just let it all go. And now, surprise, surprise, everything is underwater. We are talking about devastating floods. The kind that wash away houses, roads, and people like they are crumbs on a kitchen table. Over a hundred people are dead across three countries. Gone. Just like that. And thousands of homes? Smashed. Flattened. Turned into mud soup.

But let’s be honest for a second. Is anyone actually surprised? We treat this planet like a rental car we took off-roading, and then we act shocked when the engine blows up. Southern Africa is drowning, and the rest of the world is probably just annoyed that their safari trip might get cancelled.

Let's talk about the priorities here. The news reports are crying about the damage to one of Africa’s "premier wildlife parks." Oh no. The lions are wet. The elephants have muddy feet. Tens of millions of dollars in damage to a place where rich tourists go to wear khaki and take pictures of sleeping cats. That is what makes the headline. Not the people losing their roofs. Not the families trying to figure out where to sleep tonight. No, it is the economic hit to the safari industry.

This is how the world works. Money talks, and poor people float. The infrastructure in these places was never built to last. It was built cheap, or it was built fifty years ago and never touched again because some politician needed a new car instead of fixing a drainage ditch. It is the same story everywhere. The Left will tell you this is climate change, and we need to ban plastic straws to fix it. The Right will tell you it’s just bad luck or God’s will, and we should just pray harder.

They are both idiots. This is just basic incompetence. We build towns where water likes to go. Then the water goes there. Then we cry. It is a cycle of stupidity that never ends.

Think about the sheer force of it. Water is heavy. It moves fast. And when you ignore the warning signs for decades, it wins every time. These floods tore through Mozambique, Malawi, and Zimbabwe. These aren't places with money to burn. They are places that struggle on a good day. Now, they are dealing with a catastrophe that would cripple a rich country. But don't worry, I am sure the international community will send a few blankets and a strongly worded letter to the clouds.

The wildlife park angle really gets me, though. It sums up human nature perfectly. We value the "experience" of nature more than the reality of it. Nature isn't a zoo. It isn't a park. It is a violent, angry beast that wants to kill you. We forgot that. We thought we tamed it. We put up fences and built nice lodges with air conditioning. We pretended that the wild was just a backdrop for our Instagram photos.

Then the rain comes. And it keeps coming. And suddenly, that fancy lodge is driftwood. The roads are rivers. And the people who actually live there, the ones who don't get to fly home to a dry apartment in London or New York, are left holding the bag.

It is tragic, sure. But it is also painfully predictable. We keep pushing our luck. We pave over the earth, cut down the trees that stop the water, and ignore the weather reports. Then, when the bill comes due, we act like victims. We aren't victims. We are accomplices.

And look at the cost. "Tens of millions of dollars." That is the only language anyone speaks. Human life is cheap, but property damage? That is serious business. That is what gets the meetings scheduled. That is what gets the aid money moving—so they can rebuild the hotels, not the shacks.

So, here we are. Southern Africa is soaking wet. People are dead. The animals are grumpy. And the rest of the world will look at the pictures, shake their heads, and scroll to the next video of a cat falling off a table. Nobody learns. Nobody fixes anything. We just wait for the mud to dry so we can build the exact same cheap houses in the exact same dangerous spots and wait for the next storm to wash it all away again.

It is pathetic. It is exhausting. But mostly, it is just what we deserve.