grew wheat chose

We Grew the Wheat. We Chose to Import It.

In early April the grain stood stacked by the roadside in Sahiwal, DG Khan and Bahawalnagar, harvested and bagged, waiting for a buyer the system had promised but never delivered. Three months later the buyer arrived. Not the state purchasing from Pakistani farmers, but the state purchasing from foreign suppliers, paying in scarce dollars.

Pakistan’s 2025-26 wheat production is estimated at 29.31 million tonnes against consumption of roughly 31.9 million. The gap is real. This import, however, is not the product of a harvest failure. It is the product of a procurement failure. The wheat existed. What did not exist was the institutional will to buy it at a price that reflected its value while it was still in the farmer’s hands.

Private intermediaries bought at Rs 2,900-3,200 per 40 kilograms from farmers who had loans falling due and no storage. Those intermediaries held the grain and watched the open-market price climb to Rs 4,600 by July. The middleman’s profit was the farmer’s loss. The state, having refused to spend rupees in April, must now spend dollars in August. The invoice, compiled from months of evasion, comes due all at once.

The cycle was predictable. After the 2022 floods the administrative reflex became “import.” In 2023-24 the country allowed large duty-free private imports into a market already carrying record stocks. That was 3.44 million tonnes at a cost of $1.005 billion. In 2024 and 2025 the Minimum Support Price was first ignored and then abolished under IMF conditionality linked to a $7.1 billion Extended Fund Facility. This happened years ahead of the phased timeline the Fund had allowed until FY2026. In October 2025 the government reversed course and restored the price, but the supporting machinery never materialised. In January 2026 the aggregator model collapsed. Punjab set a procurement target of three million tonnes, but by late May, with partial procurement continuing into June, total procurement fell far short of the target. Three seasons, three frameworks, one recurring failure: the system arrives after the price has already been set.

The old procurement system was deeply flawed. It captured only about a quarter of production and skewed toward large landholders and politically influential actors. According to a Competition Commission of Pakistan analysis, the top 40 per cent of farmers in Punjab sold 84 per cent of their wheat to official buyers, while the bottom 40 per cent sold only 6.4 per cent, forced to accept below-benchmark prices from private traders. Abolishing it overnight without private storage, warehouse-receipt financing or functioning commodity exchanges did not liberate the small farmer. It exposed him to cartels he could not match. The state was weak when farmers needed a floor. It is assertive now that consumers need a ceiling. That is not food security. It is political timing.

The cost will be paid in November. Punjab’s wheat acreage has already fallen sharply. It fell by roughly 5.5 per cent between 2023-24 and 2024-25, a reduction of close to a million acres, according to official crop reporting data corroborated by independent assessments. The decline has continued into 2025-26. Farmers are not abandoning wheat out of ideology. They are doing arithmetic after three years of suppressed returns, delayed buyers and policy uncertainty. Many are moving into canola and mustard. These are thinner markets with less infrastructure, no public benchmarks and highly concentrated private buyers. Unlike wheat, which benefits from a massive state-backed consumption floor and established procurement infrastructure, edible oils face different demand elasticities and lack the same strategic reserve backing. If oilseed acreage expands faster than processing capacity, the same distress-sale pattern will simply be exported to a new crop.

Climate stress amplifies the risk. The 2025 floods were the worst in Punjab in four decades, and the 2026 harvest lost further volume to heat and storms. Rising temperatures and erratic rainfall are no longer background noise; they are actively cutting yields. Yet the deeper threat remains institutional. A farmer who repeatedly experiences losses without protection responds rationally. He reduces acreage. He shifts crops. He exits. And once he exits, he does not return.

Sovereignty does not lie only in borders or foreign reserves. It also lies in the ability to buy, store and release grain when the market fails. By that measure the import announcement is not a solution. It is the price of a failure we chose.

The 2027 harvest window opens in November. Not in April when the crop arrives. Not in July when the state panics, but in November when the farmer stands in his field and decides what to plant. On that morning he will not be thinking about policy frameworks or export targets or buffer stocks. He will be thinking about what the last three seasons cost him and whether the state that failed him in April, imported in July and abandoned him after harvest has given him any reason to trust it again.

That is the only question that matters now. That is the question that must be answered before he plants.

Similar Posts

  • India’s nuclear security dilemma: Kudankulam…

    By Sharjeel Zafar “Nuclear security is first and foremost a national responsibility.” This principle is not merely a diplomatic commitment – it is the minimum requirement for any state operating nuclear facilities. Against this fundamental principle, the reported data breach involving India’s largest nuclear power station, the Kudankulam Nuclear Power Project (KKNPP), which came to public attention on 15 July 2026, represents a serious setback to confidence in India’s nuclear security architecture and highlights vulnerabilities within one of its most critical strategic facilities. The exposure of sensitive engineering documents from one of India’s flagship nuclear facilities is not just a cybersecurity failure; it is a warning sign of deeper vulnerabilities within a nuclear establishment that seeks to expand rapidly while struggling to secure the infrastructure it already operates. According to cybersecurity researchers, thousands of engineering files related to Kudankulam Units 3 and 4 were reportedly exposed following a ransomware attack on Reliance Infrastructure, a contractor associated with the project. The leaked material allegedly included drawings of ventilation and cooling systems, layouts of auxiliary control rooms, inspection records with site photographs, supplier information, and insurance documentation. Indian authorities have maintained that no reactor-core designs or operational control systems were compromised. Yet modern cyber operations seldom begin by targeting the most protected assets. Instead, adversaries assemble seemingly routine engineering documents, contractor records, and infrastructure layouts to build an intelligence picture that can support future cyber intrusions, supply-chain compromises, or physical sabotage. In this context, the significance of the breach lies not merely in what was leaked, but in what such information can enable. The incident is particularly concerning because it follows an earlier cybersecurity breach at the same facility. In 2019, malware attributed by cybersecurity researchers to the Lazarus Group infiltrated an administrative network associated with Kudankulam. Although the Nuclear Power Corporation of India Limited (NPCIL) maintained that operational systems remained isolated, the episode demonstrated that India’s nuclear infrastructure had already become a target for sophisticated cyber actors. The recurrence of security incidents involving the same strategic installation suggests that vulnerabilities within India’s broader nuclear ecosystem, including contractors, suppliers, and administrative networks, remain insufficiently addressed. Such repeated breaches raise questions about the effectiveness of existing cybersecurity protocols and the resilience of critical nuclear infrastructure against evolving cyber threats. More troubling, however, is that Kudankulam represents only one aspect of a much larger problem. Over the past four decades, India has witnessed repeated incidents involving the theft, illegal possession, and trafficking of radioactive materials. Police have intercepted attempts to sell uranium and other radioactive substances in Maharashtra, West Bengal, Bihar, Jharkhand, Uttarakhand, and Dehradun involving stolen radioactive material. These repeated incidents raise serious questions about the effectiveness of India’s nuclear security mechanisms and its ability to maintain strict control over hazardous materials. These incidents expose a dangerous gap between India’s claims of maintaining a robust nuclear security architecture and the reality demonstrated by repeated security breaches. The timing of these concerns is particularly alarming. India is simultaneously seeking to dramatically expand its nuclear energy sector and introduce greater private-sector participation. Expansion without institutional strengthening creates a dangerous contradiction: the country is increasing the size and complexity of its nuclear ecosystem before fully resolving vulnerabilities already visible within the existing system. Private participation may bring investment, technological expertise, and efficiency, but it also introduces additional layers of complexity into nuclear security governance. Unlike a purely state-controlled system, a larger private-sector ecosystem involves multiple contractors, subcontractors, software providers, equipment suppliers, and service companies that may require access to sensitive information, digital networks, or operational support functions. Each additional entity connected to nuclear infrastructure expands the potential attack surface and creates new points at which cybersecurity failures, insider threats, inadequate security practices, or supply-chain compromises can occur. Differences in security standards, compliance capabilities, and oversight mechanisms among private entities may further complicate efforts to maintain uniform protection across the nuclear sector. Without strict regulatory control, mandatory cybersecurity standards, and continuous monitoring of third-party participants, privatization could unintentionally widen the pathways through which hostile actors attempt to access sensitive nuclear information or critical infrastructure. The implications extend far beyond India’s domestic energy programme. India’s expanding nuclear industry increasingly relies on international technology, foreign vendors, global supply chains, and cross-border investment. Consequently, vulnerabilities within one national nuclear programme can have wider strategic repercussions. A successful cyber operation or compromise of sensitive engineering information could undermine confidence in India’s nuclear security practices, raise concerns among international partners, and expose weaknesses in critical infrastructure protection within an increasingly interconnected nuclear industry. As civilian nuclear programmes worldwide become more digital and commercially integrated, cybersecurity failures in one country inevitably become matters of broader international concern. The Kudankulam breach should therefore serve as a strategic wake-up call, not another incident to be contained through official statements. A nuclear power’s credibility is not determined by the number of reactors it operates or the ambitions it announces, it is determined by its ability to prevent unauthorized access, protect sensitive information, secure radioactive materials, and maintain public confidence in its institutions. The question is whether the international community would still stay silent over a State’s perpetual weak demonstrated performance in nuclear security and remain vulnerable to risk of nuclear terrorism, cyber terrorism, illicit proliferation, and black market or transnational ecological disorder? India’s nuclear programme stands at a critical crossroads. Rapid expansion combined with unresolved security weaknesses creates a dangerous environment where a single successful cyber operation, insider compromise, or supply-chain failure could produce consequences far beyond financial losses or reputational damage. In the nuclear domain, prevention is not optional, and security lapses cannot be treated as routine administrative failures. The most serious threat facing India’s nuclear ambitions may not come from external adversaries seeking to undermine its programme, it may come from vulnerabilities that remain unaddressed within the programme itself. A nation aspiring to become a major nuclear power cannot afford a security culture built around reassurance after failure. It must build one based on prevention before disaster. The Kudankulam leak is not merely

  • The Transferability Paradox: Skills, Borders and t…

    We often speak of professional skills as though they were assets that can be packed into a suitcase and carried effortlessly across borders. In reality, skills do not all travel in the same way. A computer language remains a computer language whether one works in Pakistan, Singapore, the United Kingdom or the United States. Engineering principles, mathematics, manufacturing techniques and many scientific disciplines retain much of their relevance regardless of geography. The environment may change, but the fundamental language of the profession remains largely intact. The situation becomes more complicated with professions that operate within national regulatory and institutional frameworks. Accounting principles may be broadly understood internationally, but taxation, reporting requirements and corporate regulations can differ substantially between jurisdictions. The same is true of law and medicine. A lawyer who has spent decades mastering one country’s legal system cannot simply assume that the same statutes, procedures and precedents apply elsewhere. A doctor may possess years of clinical experience yet still be required to pass examinations and satisfy licensing requirements before being permitted to practise in another country. The knowledge has not disappeared. What has changed is the framework within which that knowledge is recognised and allowed to operate. This distinction is important because we sometimes confuse the transferability of skills with the transferability of credentials. They are not the same thing. A seasoned CFO does not forget how to evaluate risk, allocate capital, establish financial controls or understand a balance sheet upon crossing an international border. A doctor does not lose diagnostic ability at immigration, nor does a lawyer suddenly lose the capacity for legal reasoning. Yet the receiving country’s institutions may place conditions on recognising those abilities. What is being restricted is often not the skill itself, but the right, opportunity or credibility required to exercise it. For C suite professionals, however, there is another layer to the problem. As people rise through organisations, their professional value increasingly consists of much more than technical competence. Over twenty or thirty years, an executive accumulates reputation, relationships, cultural understanding, institutional knowledge and credibility. He or she learns how decisions are actually made, which relationships matter, how regulators think, how capital moves and how to navigate the unwritten rules of a particular business environment. This social and institutional capital can become as important as the technical skills that originally built the career. Crossing a border can dramatically alter the value of that accumulated capital. A CEO, CFO or senior executive who is well known and respected in one country may arrive in another market where few people recognise the organisations he or she worked for, understand the scale of previous responsibilities or appreciate the complexity of the environment in which those responsibilities were exercised. The person has not become less capable, but the ecosystem that validated that capability has been left behind. This is perhaps one of the least discussed dilemmas of international mobility at senior levels. The higher one climbs within a particular ecosystem, the more deeply one’s professional identity may become connected with that ecosystem. A young engineer may be assessed largely on technical competence and therefore move relatively easily between markets. A senior executive is assessed on a much broader collection of attributes, many of which are difficult to demonstrate on a CV. Reputation, networks, judgement and influence cannot always be exported as easily as qualifications. Then there is the uncomfortable issue of regional bias. Professional experience is not always evaluated purely on merit. Employers and institutions can consciously or unconsciously attach different values to experience depending on where it was acquired. A senior position in one part of the world may not automatically be regarded as equivalent to a similar position in another. Accent, nationality, familiarity with local business culture and perceptions about the sophistication of the previous market can all affect how a professional is judged. Regulation can create a formal wall, while perception can create an invisible one. Perhaps professional capital should therefore be thought of in three forms. There is skill capital, meaning what a person actually knows and can do. There is credential capital, meaning what institutions formally recognise or permit that person to do. Finally, there is social capital, meaning the network of people and institutions that know, trust and are prepared to place responsibility in that person’s hands. Skill capital can often travel. Credential capital may require rebuilding. Social capital can sometimes have to be recreated almost from the beginning. This brings me to the question that I find much harder to answer. If a country’s most capable professionals conclude that their talents will produce greater opportunities elsewhere, should they leave? Or should they remain and use their abilities, experience and influence to improve the environment that is encouraging them to leave in the first place? There is an obvious argument for mobility. A professional has a responsibility to his or her own life and family and cannot reasonably be expected to sacrifice decades waiting for institutions to improve. Talent naturally seeks environments where it can grow, where merit is recognised and where opportunities allow ability to compound. If those conditions exist elsewhere, moving may be entirely rational. Yet there is an equally uncomfortable consequence. When capable professionals, entrepreneurs, academics and executives continually leave weaker institutional environments for stronger ones, the countries they leave behind lose precisely the human capital that might have helped strengthen those institutions. Weak systems cause talent to leave, and the departure of talent can make those systems even harder to improve. We then arrive at something resembling the old question of the chicken and the egg. Do strong institutions create successful people, or do successful people create strong institutions? Do countries first need better systems to retain talent, or must talented people remain long enough to build those systems? If everyone waits for the environment to improve before contributing to it, who creates the improvement? But if individuals spend their lives fighting systems that are resistant to change, what happens to their own potential? Perhaps the

  • Physics of Being Human: Our Search for Meaning

    No one illustrates the laws of Physics better than human beings themselves. Entropy is not confined to laboratories and equations; it is lived through lives, societies, and relationships, steadily nudging order toward disorder. Entropy, in simple words, is a scientific measure of disorder and randomness. It shows how things naturally progress from order to chaos. Besides randomness, it is the tendency of systems to move toward greater multiplicity of possible states.   According to the Second Law of Thermodynamics, the entropy of an isolated system always tends to increase. A human being, when he evolves through childhood and moves toward adulthood, becomes more random and chaotic. He does not merely accumulate years; he gathers contradictions.   His lived experiences shape his idea of life, leaving behind a psychological residue. The feelings that he experienced for the very first time in the past become a source of discomfort as time passes. As a child, he thinks little and inquires more out of curiosity. In short, the knowledge he gained came through curiosity. But knowledge always comes at a cost. Things that fascinate us a lot turn into something that we dread a lot. As we acquire knowledge, we become aware of complexities that were always present but invisible to us.   As a child, our worldview seems simple: people are either good or bad; dreams are achievable; friends are eternal; relationships are loyal and life moves between white and black. As we grow older, the order is disrupted. A rise in consciousness awakens us to multiple contradictions, uncertainties, anxieties, grief and losses. We learn that truth is ambiguous and subjective; morality is situational; relationships are fragile; certainty is rare and life lives in the grey zone.     It is no mistake to say that human consciousness itself produces existential entropy and expands internal contradictions and multiplies possibilities. The more we know, the less certain we become. Every choice restricts us. Every decision prepares us for consequences. Every loss reshapes our understanding of love. Every truth complicates identity and brings more uncertainty. Every new experience creates new interpretations.   Here comes the importance of meaning in life. Having been surrounded by disorder and chaos, our minds look for a safe space: less entropic and more purposeful. In other words, entropy is not just a physics metaphor. It is reason that pushes humans to find an anchor in topsy-turvy life. It’s more like providing moorings to the ship that is left at the mercy of aggressive waves.   Now a question comes to mind: how do humans resist the uncertainties created by the expansion of consciousness? The answer is meaning, but its discovery could be different in philosophical terms. Existentialists, such as Jean Paul Sartre, believe that purpose is constructive and built upon the choices presented to us by expanding consciousness.   Albert Camus’ philosophy argues that we embrace life’s absurdity by revolting against it instead of surrendering to it. It means we have to continue living passionately and consciously while being aware of life’s realities.   Viktor Frankl, in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, presents a different perspective on meaning as a “response” to suffering. He called suffering an inevitable and inexplicable part of human life. Humans can endure almost any suffering if they discover a reason for it. In this situation, meaning acts like “negative entropy” as it does not eliminate suffering but arranges it into a narrative that can be endured.   Frankl also argued the concept of “logotherapy” in his book, believing that man’s primary drive is to find something meaningful instead of seeking happiness or pleasure. Still others think that if we voluntarily shoulder the responsibility, we can lay the foundation of habitable order amid chaos.   From my viewpoint, every meaning, whether small or big, is worth pursuing if it only fulfils you. The nature and timing of meaning could be different, but one thing is certain: in this world, entropy will persist. The purpose of meaning is not to defeat entropy but to resist it and make it bearable. Our lives have been the accumulation of experiences, interpretations, complexities, and uncertainties. Any moment shared with loved ones, every act of love, every truth pursued, every responsibility accepted and every desire followed becomes a source of stability against life’s expanding uncertainty. Meaning does not eliminate entropy. It is humanity’s rebellion against it.

  • Paying tribute to Miskeen Jahan Khan Khoso, a lege…

    Today, is the 45-death anniversary of Miskeen Jahan Khoso, one of the legends of Thar. Miskeen Jahan Khan Khoso was a man who dedicated his life to serving the people of Tharparkar. He was born on July 9, 1909, in a Village Sami Veri near Nangarparkar Taluka Head Quarter. His father’s name was Bijar Khan Khoso. He joined the government job in police department which, he inherited from his father and grandfather. Not tolerating the exploitation of poor, peasants and marginalized in hands of landlords and Patels, rock-hard young yet a passionate Jahan Khan changed his mind other way, he resigned from the police job in 1937. He dedicated rest of his life in serving the humanity, in this way he spent 43 years in rendering a noble work. Not tolerating the exploitation of poor, peasants and marginalized in hands of landlords and Patels, rock-hard young yet a passionate Jahan Khan changed his mind other way, Many times, cases were registered against him to intimidate and punish. He was convicted and jailed for two years under a notorious goonda act. Carrying stakes of newspapers, with trademark cape on head and an iron wrapped baton in the hand, he either walked on foot or travelled through camels, horses and khekhras (GMC trucks 6×6) thousands of miles in his life. He would remain away from family and village for months. He never ever favored nepotism, he equally fought against his brothers while came to know they were illegally occupying the land of poor Kolhi farmers. As usual, he stood with poor farmers and lodged FIR against his own brothers. Miskeen always identified himself as a humble and down-to-earth character. He was known as the social worker of Thar by the poor people of Nagarparkar for his relentless efforts to help them in their times of need. Miskeen’s dedication to his people knew no bounds. He would associate with the Kolhis, Meghwar and Bheels, making them feel at ease, even though he came from an affluent family. He was not just a social worker or philanthropist; he was a true friend to the poor people of Tharparkar. He raised his voice against all forms of oppression and cruelty inflicted upon these communities by local waderas and feudal lords. Miskeen fought against these powerful and influential people through the power of the pen and the spoken word. His unwavering dedication to his people often landed him in trouble. He was imprisoned and jailed for raising his voice against the injustices suffered by the poor people of Tharparkar. Despite facing numerous FIRs and cases, Miskeen never gave up on his cause. He would return to his people after his release from jail, listen to their issues, and take them to the He was nominated for an international award in recognition of his services to the poor, marginalized, and oppressed communities in America. However, due to financial constraints, his son was unable to attend the ceremony. Miskeen did not undertake these social services for any personal gain or consideration. He did everything voluntarily out of his love and concern for his people. That is why he is also known as the Edhi of Thar, named after the late Abdul Sattar Edhi, a legendary Pakistani philanthropist who dedicated his life to serving the underprivileged. Miskeen’s efforts continue to be remembered and appreciated by the people of Tharparkar even after his death. He did great service without having or getting resources from others. He was a true humanistic and poor-friendly and did not believe in conversion of religion. Today, many Non-Government organizations and philanthropists are praised for helping the poor in Thar, but it’s important to remember that Miskeen served the needy purely out of humanitarian concern, without seeking recognition. It is encouraging to see that Miskeen’s legacy lives on in Tharparkar. Many people, such as Mama Vishan Thari, have taken up the mantle of continuing Miskeen’s work in their own way. Mama Vishan Thari, also known as the Edhi of Thar, is a resident of Mithi city. For over a decade, he has run a blood bank near the civil hospital Mithi, providing free blood to those in need and saving hundreds of lives. He does not categorize based on religion, caste, or creed, believing that everyone is equal and deserves help regardless of their background. Miskeen passed away on 23rd July 1980, leaving behind a remarkable legacy in Tharparkar. Majestic and resilient like Karoonjhar itself, his life story is far too vast to be captured in a few words.

  • The hands that clean Karachi

    KARACHI: Before the city wakes up, thousands of sanitation workers are already at work. They sweep roads, collect household waste, clean neighbourhoods and, in some cases, enter sewer lines and manholes to clear blockages. Among them are many workers from Christian and Hindu communities who perform some of Karachi’s most difficult and hazardous jobs. On August 11, Pakistan observes National Minorities Day. The occasion is usually marked with messages about equality, tolerance and the contribution of minority communities to the country. But for many minority sanitation workers in Karachi, the day will be no different from any other: they will be out cleaning the city, often while facing low wages, insecure employment, inadequate safety equipment and social discrimination. Their problems extend beyond poverty. They include workplace safety, access to healthcare, employment benefits and the stigma attached to the occupation itself. There is no reliable and up-to-date official figure showing exactly how many Christian and Hindu sanitation workers are currently employed in Karachi. A World Bank-linked environmental and social assessment, however, recorded around 11,400 sweepers and sanitary workers employed by the city’s district authorities. It also noted additional workers employed through SSWMB contractors and a large informal workforce involved in door-to-door waste collection and material recovery. The 11,400 figure therefore does not represent Karachi’s entire sanitation workforce. The actual number is considerably broader once outsourced, daily-wage and informal workers are included. Sanitation work in Pakistan has for decades been disproportionately associated with religious minorities. Research by Amnesty International has documented the concentration of Christians and Hindus in sanitation work and found evidence of discrimination in recruitment, employment and working conditions. The issue therefore begins well before a worker picks up a broom. It is also about whether people from particular religious and social backgrounds are being denied opportunities to enter other occupations. The question of wages is equally important. The Sindh government has announced a minimum monthly wage of Rs43,000 with effect from July 1, 2026. While the announcement is significant for low-paid workers, the more important question for sanitation workers is whether the amount actually reaches them. A substantial part of Karachi’s sanitation work is performed through contractors, outsourcing arrangements and daily-wage employment. Previous reporting has documented workers employed through SSWMB contractors receiving wages below the applicable minimum wage. In one reported case, a minor working for an SSWMB contractor was receiving Rs15,000 a month when the minimum wage for unskilled workers was Rs32,000. The new Rs43,000 minimum wage therefore requires more than a government notification. It requires effective enforcement and monitoring, particularly where public sanitation services are outsourced. If a worker performs essential public work through a contractor, there must be clarity about who is responsible for ensuring that he receives the legally prescribed wage and other employment rights. For sanitation workers, however, low wages are not the only concern. The nature of the work itself can be fatal. In September 2025, three sanitation workers died in Karachi’s Usmanabad area after inhaling toxic gases while cleaning a manhole. The victims were identified as 22-year-old Vishal, 19-year-old Shahir and 42-year-old George. A fourth worker survived after being rescued. The deaths were followed by further fatalities. In October 2025, The Express Tribune reported that six sanitation workers had died from suffocation while cleaning sewers in Karachi in just over a month. The deaths occurred in Sohrab Goth, Garden and Landhi. According to the report, the victims were privately hired daily-wage workers who lacked adequate safety equipment and training. On April 17, 2026, three private sanitation workers died in Surjani Town after inhaling toxic fumes while cleaning a choked sewerage line. Police identified the deceased as Wilson, Waqas and Nazeer and said all three belonged to the Christian community. Such incidents follow a familiar pattern. A worker enters a sewer to clear a blockage. Toxic gases overcome him. Another worker may enter in an attempt to rescue him and can suffer the same fate. Without proper protective equipment, gas detection devices, training and rescue arrangements, a routine cleaning operation can quickly turn into multiple deaths. The exact number of sanitation workers who have died in Karachi is difficult to establish because there is no comprehensive publicly available official database covering municipal, private, contracted and informal workers. In October 2025, activist Naeem Sadiq told Arab News that approximately 100 manual scavengers die every year in Pakistan, including around 30 in Karachi. He also warned that the actual number could be higher because of underreporting. The figure is an activist estimate rather than an official government statistic, but it illustrates the scale of the concern. At the national level, Amnesty International documented 80 sanitation workers who died in 50 manhole incidents between 2011 and 2023. Of these, 40 were Christians, 22 Muslims and 18 Hindus. Most of the deaths were associated with poisonous gases and asphyxiation. The figures highlight a wider concern: minority workers are disproportionately represented in some of the most hazardous sanitation jobs, while also facing social and economic disadvantages. A survey by the National Commission for Human Rights of 42 sanitation workers in Karachi provides further evidence of poor working conditions. Thirty-three workers, or 78.6 per cent, said they had never been provided personal protective equipment. Twenty-four, or 57.1 per cent, reported workplace injuries. The same number reported verbal or physical abuse, threats, non-payment or other forms of discrimination. These findings raise a basic question about Karachi’s sanitation system: the issue is not only who will clean the city, but under what conditions the people cleaning it are expected to work. Another study involving 400 sewerage and sanitary workers in Karachi found that 228, or 57 per cent, were sweepers and 172, or 43 per cent, were sewerage workers. The study found that 96.5 per cent had not been immunised against typhoid, hepatitis and tetanus, while 91 per cent were not using safety equipment at work. For workers exposed daily to sewage, waste and potentially toxic environments, protective clothing, gloves, boots, masks, vaccination, health examinations and emergency support should not

  • PM Shehbaz Sharif and Field Marshal Syed Asim Muni…

    Pakistan’s growing diplomatic influence has entered a new phase as Prime Minister Muhammad Shehbaz Sharif and Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir lead the country’s strategic engagement with the world, strengthening alliances and projecting Pakistan as an important voice in regional peace and security. The signing of the Makkah Joint Defence Agreement between Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Türkiye represents a major milestone in Pakistan’s foreign and security policy. The agreement brings together three influential nations through a framework of collective defence, enhanced military cooperation and a shared commitment to regional stability. In recent months, Pakistan’s defence capabilities and strategic importance have received increased international attention. The role of the Pakistan Army in national security and regional stability has been a central factor in shaping Pakistan’s strategic partnerships, while Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir’s engagement with international counterparts has highlighted the importance of defence diplomacy in promoting peace and cooperation. The global perception of Pakistan’s strategic role has evolved as Islamabad has continued to demonstrate its capacity to engage with major powers and regional stakeholders. Under Field Marshal Asim Munir’s leadership, Pakistan’s military diplomacy has focused on strengthening partnerships, supporting stability and advancing dialogue as a pathway to resolving regional challenges. Prime Minister Muhammad Shehbaz Sharif has complemented these efforts through active diplomatic outreach, engaging world leaders and strengthening Pakistan’s relationships with key allies. Whenever Pakistan’s leadership has engaged internationally, these visits have increasingly focused on expanding cooperation, improving economic ties and promoting peace initiatives. Pakistan’s diplomatic role in encouraging dialogue during tensions involving the United States and Iran also attracted international attention. US President Donald Trump acknowledged Pakistan’s leadership efforts in supporting peace and dialogue, reflecting the country’s potential role as a constructive bridge between nations. Pakistan continues to maintain strong strategic relations with major international partners, including China, while also enjoying deep historical and security ties with Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and other Middle Eastern countries. Iran has repeatedly highlighted the importance of its relationship with Pakistan and recognised the value of regional cooperation. The Makkah Declaration further strengthens this strategic momentum. The agreement reflects the shared commitment of Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan to collective security and regional stability. It establishes that any armed attack against one of the three states will be regarded as an attack against all, while enhancing defence cooperation, military coordination and strategic collaboration. Built on historic relations, Islamic solidarity and common interests, the declaration aims to strengthen collective deterrence and contribute towards peace, security and prosperity. The emerging partnership between Pakistan’s political and defence leadership is being viewed by supporters as a coordinated national effort to protect Pakistan’s interests and expand its international role. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif’s diplomatic engagement and Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir’s strategic approach have together shaped a more proactive foreign policy outlook. The Makkah summit could become a defining moment in Pakistan’s international journey—strengthening its alliances, enhancing its strategic relevance and reinforcing its message that Pakistan seeks peace through cooperation, dialogue and responsible global engagement.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *