In Karachi, a city with a population of over 30 million, if a child falls into a sewer and loses his life, it is not just an accident but a slap in the face of the entire urban system. The state of the city before us is that of open manholes, missing covers, abandoned infrastructure and government machinery running away from responsibility, and all of this together shows that our city is suffering from administrative decline.
The real problem is that in Karachi, security arrangements, civic surveillance and maintenance of public spaces are not the responsibility of any one institution; rather, each institution transfers the responsibility. The result is that the city's roads, its drains, its footpaths, everything in total, have put the lives of the people at risk. Because when the grip of the state and institutions on the basic infrastructure of the city weakens, not accidents but tragedies arise. The death of a child reminds us that the infrastructure breakdown in Karachi is actually a social injustice somewhere; there are no sewer covers to save lives, some streets have no lights, some communities have no surveillance, and above all, in a big city like Karachi, there is no accountability, and no one is willing to take responsibility for the city.
This incident revives the question: If not a single child is safe in the city, then what kind of urban governance is this? We believe that the city of Karachi needs a responsible urban system, not accidents; otherwise, every open sewer and open drain will continue to wait for the next life. The truth is that there are countless layers of urban governance in Karachi, and they are so complex that it has become almost impossible to determine the true responsibility for any incident.
The tragedy of Karachi is that the city’s governance is so fragmented that even the basic issues and matters of urban life keep wandering between institutions like lost files and documents. The city’s 106 major roads, including University Road, clearly fall under the jurisdiction of the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation (KMC). These roads have no direct connection with the union committees, towns or cantonments. Their operation and maintenance are the sole responsibility of the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation (KMC) and the Mayor of Karachi.
But on the other hand, the installation and maintenance of sewer covers is primarily the responsibility of the Karachi Water and Sewerage Corporation (KWSC), as they operate the sewerage system, and each axis also has funds for this purpose. Then it is even more important that the chairman of the Karachi Water and Sewerage Corporation (KWSC) is also the Mayor of Karachi — meaning there is no justification for any obstruction or power struggle between the institutions here. Despite this, if the road remains open, the cover disappears, and an accident occurs, it is plain administrative negligence.
In our cities, resigning is considered a matter of political honour, not a moral duty; thus, ‘democracy’ appears on record, but it does not mean strict accountability, but rather leniency
If the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation (KMC) cannot directly fulfil the responsibility of installing drain covers on these 106 roads, then at least the relevant town or union committee chairmen of these roads should formally transfer this responsibility. The real solution is what we saw in the Local Government Act 2001, i.e., devolution of powers to the lowest level, and UC chairmen and councillors should be given decision-making authority, and the Karachi Water and Sewerage Corporation (KWSC) staff in each area should work under the direction of the UC chairman. Because this was the model that created speed, transparency and accountability in solving urban problems. Problems in Karachi will indeed be solved only when the powers are devolved, and the responsibility is clear; then, strict accountability can be ensured. Otherwise, this city will continue to wait for accidents — and every open manhole, every broken road and every helpless neighbourhood will continue to testify to the administrative failure of our city and provincial government.
If this tragic event had happened in a Western “global city” like New York, London or Johannesburg, the public backlash would have forced the mayor or relevant officials to resign. On 13 August 2024, Johannesburg Mayor Kabelo Gwamanda resigned after intense public outrage and criticism. The complaint was that city services such as street maintenance, sanitation, drainage and housing had reached a state of “near collapse”. Similarly, when more than 80 people died in a fire at a residential tower block in London in 2017, the head of Kensington and Chelsea Council (London), Nick Paget-Brown, faced intense criticism. He resigned after public outrage and accusations of failure, as he was held responsible for “council failure”.
History is full of such incidents. Not only that, but in 2015, Rome Mayor Ignazio Marino resigned after being accused of financial corruption and losing public trust. Although he was accused of financial corruption, his departure set an example that resignation is also an acceptable moral action when public trust is broken. Whereas recently, in 2023, when allegations of a personal affair with a female member of his staff surfaced against Toronto Mayor John Tory, he resigned after apologising to the public. Although it was not a direct issue of civic infrastructure, personal ethics and a breakdown of public trust are also reasons for resignation.
Whereas in our country, Pakistan, and especially in a city like Karachi, things are different because there are many layers of governance here, institutions are divided, positions are distributed, and responsibilities are very vague; hence, the question of ‘who is responsible?’ arises automatically. In a situation where a child falls into a sewer and dies because the sewer cover was not installed, and the public protested against it, the mayor or the relevant officer should have accepted responsibility and resigned. But the reality is that in our cities, resigning is considered a matter of political honour, not a moral duty; thus, ‘democracy’ appears on record, but it does not mean strict accountability, but rather leniency. At the same time, the tradition of public protest or criticism is weak, meaning that protests occur but their results rarely emerge. Therefore, there is no pressure on the officials. Rather, the matter is suppressed after a few days — thus, corruption, negligence or failure of coordination is called ‘weakness in service delivery’, while it is rightly called ‘error and negligence of responsibility’. In such a situation, resignation is often far away, and even an explanation is rarely given. And if it is given, it is as if the gentleman has done a favour to the public.
Headlines run for two days, and silence falls on the third day. In this way, neither public pressure is created, nor is any moral responsibility imposed on the rulers
There is no doubt that if such an incident had occurred in a Western city, the people there would have demanded justice, protested, and probably the mayor or council leader would have resigned. Because there, “citizens’ lives and dignity” are considered part of reputation and a moral duty. But in Karachi, our layers of governance are so diffuse and so complex that not only is it difficult to “find those responsible”, but there is no pressure on those who are responsible. Thus, our tragedy is this: we sing the tune of ‘democracy’, and at the same time desire ‘people’s representatives’, but we try so hard that traditions of public consensus, public protest and public accountability cannot be built or strengthened. As a result, the death of an innocent child is not just negligence but a manifestation of judicial, social and political intellectual decline, and it is only averted with ‘regrets’ or ‘prayerful words’. In such a situation, there is no expectation of resignation or reform.
A huge gap in the role of the media is also revealed in Karachi’s urban problems, disorganised governance and daily tragedies, and this gap is not only in reporting but in the entire system of civic awareness and accountability. Because the primary job of the media is not just to show accidents, it is to go to the roots of the malfunctioning of the urban system and find it and bring the facts to light. But in our country, whether it is an infrastructure failure, an incident of a child falling into a sewer, or a climate disaster, the media presents it as just a ‘part-time event’. Headlines run for two days, and silence falls on the third day. In this way, neither public pressure is created, nor is any moral responsibility imposed on the rulers. And then this silence, this inattention, gives these incompetent systems and rulers more opportunities to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
The problem is not just the extent of the media but the root cause of the problem: the complete lack of public participation in urban planning. It is also impossible to deny the fact that the people do not make decisions in our cities; the rulers impose decisions on the people. The rulers want the citizens to live according to their thinking, their priorities and their plans, and not to ask the citizens themselves what kind of city they want. Because if the people were asked in Karachi, no citizen would say: leave open sewers without safety measures, or let potholes remain on the roads during the construction of the BRT, or leave the infrastructure abandoned in the middle of the movement of thousands of people. These are decisions that are not made by the will of the people but due to the negligence, indifference and unconsulted policies of the institutions.
We have repeatedly seen that when the entire urban planning system comes from the top down and the people at the bottom, i.e., the citizens or the public, are kept silent, the result is this: roads are dug in the name of BRT, sewerage and drain covers disappear somewhere, and at the same time, safety measures in the city are zero and human lives become collateral damage.
In this whole matter, it has also come to light that the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation (KMC) has entrusted TransKarachi, which is the transport agency of the Sindh government, due to the construction of the University Road Red Line BRT. So the question is: who will take responsibility? The Karachi Metropolitan Corporation (KMC), which gave the authority? The Karachi Water and Sewerage Corporation, which was responsible for sewerage. Or TransKarachi, which is now taking over the operation of this section? And this is the governance gap that exposes the entire structure of our urban planning.
The real problem is that we live in a city where citizens are not asked what kind of city they want. Until planning is “by the people, for the people”, the media does not report responsibly, and institutions are not held accountable, lives lost at every corner of the street, in every open manhole, in every dug-up road will continue to be treated as mere statistics. And this is the crisis that we must address with fundamental reforms to the urban planning structure — otherwise Karachi will continue to suffer not from accidents but from planning failures.