A long time ago, I fancied myself as a chronicler of Karachi, pretending to be able to interpret the experience of living in this chaotic and forever-evolving place. In my early years as a journalist, the city was my beat, and I enjoyed exploring its ins and outs. During the decade of Gen Zia’s martial law, I wrote a weekly column named ‘Karachi Diary’.
In recent years, though, I have felt that Karachi is slipping out of my comprehension. One might say that the more Karachi changes, the more it remains the same. A good aphorism it may be, but the need to understand how Karachi is changing has also remained the same. And this task is never taken seriously.
That Karachi is the focus of my column this week requires no excuse. There is always an ample choice of events and experiences to use as a peg to write about Karachi, even if it means recycling one’s thoughts. At times, there are pegs that go abegging because of something more relevant or urgent coming up.
For instance, I missed writing about a verdict delivered by the Sindh High Court early this year that ordered traffic police to prevent all forms of begging at traffic signals and public spaces in Karachi. Law-enforcement agencies, primarily the traffic police, were instructed to take action against beggars of all genders and ages. This, of course, included transgender individuals.
What would you expect if you happened to have read this verdict in a newspaper or heard it on a news channel? Simply, an edict issued by the superior judiciary has to be obeyed. No questions are allowed. Hence, when I learnt about it, I began to imagine what the streets of Karachi would be like without the beggars. At least, there would be no beggars at major traffic signals.
I am not sure what legal steps can still be taken to implement the SHC verdict. Yes, I remember publicised drives against the beggar mafia in the past. But that and many other projects that are launched with great fanfare have failed to make any difference.
Talking about beggar mafia, I remember reading a story about the disappearance of a little boy in Karachi, something that happens again and again. Then, some months later, the kidnapped child was found begging outside a mosque by one of his relatives. You
may Google this story and find the details. Such crimes are indeed possible – and do take place – in large, highly congested cities. However, the quality of law enforcement and order varies from place to place.
On a working day this week, we invited close relatives for dinner to meet a family visiting from abroad. Because some of them live in distant colonies, the logistics of how they were able to make it were quite tedious. Millions of commuters have to suffer this ordeal every day, twice a day. Stories circulated in private conversations could be likened to environmental pollution.
I wonder if a study is being conducted at any of our universities to measure the impact of Karachi’s transportation woes on the lives of its citizens and their mental health. Social scientists have deduced that relationships are the foundation of a good, happy life. But meeting friends and loved ones regularly is a great challenge in Karachi.
There is another reason why Karachi is on my mind, particularly in the context of its role in national affairs. On Wednesday, Kalim Farooqui hosted a lunch to meet Mushahid Hussain Syed with a number of common friends. It became, as would be expected, a stimulating session. Mushahid Hussain held forth on the exciting developments taking place in the domain of foreign affairs, specifically in the Middle East.
However, there was some diversion in one forceful formulation that Karachi holds the key to the nation’s progress but only if the city, meaning its industrial and business leaders, is left free to make its own decisions on how the promised billions of dollars are to be invested. It was asserted that Karachi has the capacity to become Pakistan’s engine for growth if there is no interference by – yes -- the establishment.
Ah, but is Karachi healthy enough to be able to stand on its own feet? Does it have sufficient human capital to run the show? Is it not, institutionally, on the edge? Anyway, I was a bit amused to hear some bold proclamations about the power that Karachi is supposed to possess to lead an economic revolution.
At the same time, someone mentioned the new, alarming surge in cases of extortion. On Thursday, there was a report on how three Lyari gangsters are running extortion rackets from abroad. It is interesting that, apparently, there are some new players in this game. What this means is that economic activities in Karachi need more protection, adding to the burdens of an administration that has generally not been very efficient.
Finally, Karachi has to contend with the reality that is manifest in a survey of the Economist Intelligence Unit on ‘livable’ cities. The EIU findings were released some months ago and were widely reported in our media. The gist of it was that Karachi was again ranked among the five least livable cities, placed at 170 out of 173 cities.
Now, with all our concerns about Karachi’s deteriorating urban environment, there is no other city in the country with an equal potential for survival and growth. There are still many silver linings. For whatever it’s worth, the exploits of the Pakistan Arts Council in Karachi can cheer us up a little.
Still, when all is said and done, Karachi is ailing. It needs attention – and not just of the provincial government. Essentially, it has to be a national project. Not for nothing is Karachi labelled as the ‘mini-Pakistan’. In my initial days as its chronicler, I would say that Karachi is a city without love. Is that tag still valid?
The writer is a senior journalist. He can be reached at: ghazi.karachigmail.com