Just how does internet disruption impact the common man?
“A |
llah ka shukar hai! (Allah be thanked!)” exclaimed 38-year-old Faraz* when the internet service in Islamabad was brought to a halt ahead of a procession by a political party recently. The reaction may seem ironic for a food-delivery rider, whose subsistence depends on the internet; but it’s not surprising for a number of reasons. Faraz is a hit-and-run survivor. A Hilux truck had run him over. Ever since, he walks with a limp, which doesn’t really go well with his 12-hour daily shift.
“We came from Chiniot to Islamabad in search of a better life. Who knew what misfortunes awaited us here?” says his nine-year-old son, Mujtaba*, sitting at a dhaba at F-11 Markaz as he takes a break from selling boiled eggs, alongside his two brothers.
Faraz has six sons. The older three, all under the age of nine, work alongside him to support the family. The family of eight rents a room at a house in Golra, a low-income neighbourhood. The territory is disputed between the Capital Development Authority and some villagers who live in a constant fear of eviction.
From denial of internet stoppage; to tacit agreement of slowing it over security concerns; to comparing it to some draconian regimes and taking pride in better internet speed; to blaming deepwater creatures for biting off submarine cables; to mulling over ideas of signing Starlink’s satellite internet, understanding the government’s objectives with regard to internet use is challenging.
For Faraz, an overworked and underpaid worker, an internet shutdown is welcome respite. This gives him some time off, without having to carry guilt. However, his instantaneous joy begs a barrage of questions about survival and making a living for his family of eight.
One can only wonder how ride-hailing app drivers and food delivery riders manage to cope with the knowledge that their lifeline for the day is compromised with internet disruptions, now a regular occurrence.
Tufail Ahmed Khan is the president of Pakistan Freelancers’ Association. While he reiterates that the country’s digital exports have surged 30 percent in 2024, he is cognisant of the plight of innumerable digital gig-workers depending on mobile data for orders from ride-hailing and food-delivery enterprises. They have to fulfil daily targets that are impossible without a seamless internet.
The challenge here, says Khan, is that when freelancers and gig-workers raise their grievances on social media for authorities to address issues related to internet outages or slowdown, their posts are picked up by foreign clientele, which then decides not to order work from the Pakistani market.
Whoever said necessity was the mother of all inventions perhaps didn’t mean it to be an encouragement for authorities to withhold essential provisions from citizens. When internet service is disrupted, millions of online gig-workers cannot instantly come up with ways to go around the obstacle.
“I am trying to find a way to negotiate with the government so that our issues are resolved. We don’t want a fight. Our struggle is for faster, uninterrupted internet. I hope we’ll get it now,” says Khan.
Khan is glad that the government has finally admitted that the internet bandwidth is inadequate. He notes that the national fiberisation policy aims at enhancing the bandwidth and helping 2.3 million freelancers.
While Tufail Khan speaks for freelancers, who deal with foreign clients, the common man’s job, delivery order, assignment, homework, entertainment and political messages are a low priority.
Hajira Asad is a Quaid-i-Azam University undergrad student. She has to submit her assignments timely to maintain her grades.
“How and why should I take responsibility for the internet blockade or slowdown when I am supposed to submit all my assignments via email or online transfer?” the irate political science student asks.
“It’s always frustrating: first, during the research; then, when one is putting the assignment together; and once you have managed to complete it, when you have to send it,” she says.
Asad’s misery is shared by her fellow students. One of whom, Mohammad Sainan, recently missed an assignment deadline. Sainan blames it on the snail-paced internet.
His university recently held an international conference wherein guests from the UK also took part. The organisers admitted that the university shrunk the bandwidth across the campus to maintain better access for the conference participants and Zoom calls.
*Names have been changed to protect identities
The writer is a journalist who covers business, policy and social issues. He posts on X at @mhunainameen