Karachi’s Open Manholes: Civic Negligence And The Tragic Cost To Children

Karachi’s open manholes claim children’s lives due to civic negligence, weak governance, and lack of proactive municipal reforms

Karachi’s Open Manholes: Civic Negligence And The Tragic Cost To Children

Karachi was once again shaken when three-year-old Ibrahim fell into an open manhole near NIPA in Gulshan-e-Iqbal and was swept into the city’s toxic underground sewer system. Despite fifteen hours of desperate search efforts, his body was recovered half a kilometre away. This horrifying incident exposed more than a tragic accident; it revealed a civic administration failing at its most basic duty: protecting its citizens.

Ibrahim was not the first. According to rescue officials, he was the 22nd child in Karachi this year to fall victim to an uncovered manhole. One death would have been a tragedy. Twenty-two is a scandal of civic negligence on a scale that should provoke immediate reform. Yet, before this incident, no comprehensive audit of the city’s manholes was conducted, no systemic solution was implemented, and no accountable leadership emerged. Karachi repeatedly buries its children while its institutions operate in inertia.

In the aftermath, another child recently fell into a manhole in Baldia Town’s Sector 12-D but was rescued in time. While fortunate, this incident underscores a grim reality: Karachi remains riddled with hazards, and prevention relies on luck rather than governance.

Instead of responding with empathy and urgency, the Mayor’s remarks triggered public outrage. Criticising media coverage and suggesting that “nothing can be achieved” through public pressure were deeply inappropriate for an elected leader. Activism, protest, and criticism are not acts of unrest; they are democratic rights and the only tools citizens have left to hold their government accountable. Political parties, including the Mayor’s own, have relied on such tools whenever out of power. To dismiss them now is not only ironic, but it is also undemocratic. One cannot help but ask: What did the Mayor do when there were no protests during the previous 22 incidents?

The Mayor acknowledged Karachi has 245,000 manholes, of which 88,000 new covers were installed in the last year. He did not clarify the status of the remaining manholes: are they intact, missing, or unaccounted for?

Even more troubling was the Mayor’s suggestion that authorities would investigate whether the manhole had been left open due to “malicious intent.” Open manholes in Karachi are not conspiracies; they are the predictable outcome of systemic dysfunction and well-known realities of the city’s civic life—realities the Mayor should have been fully aware of. Covers go missing because theft is unchecked, inspections are infrequent, policing is weak, and municipal departments operate without accountability. Treating these tragedies as mysteries only diverts attention from the real question: Why does Karachi allow its streets to become death traps again and again?

If the Mayor was unaware that manholes routinely remain uncovered, the failure is even more serious. Leadership begins with knowledge, walking the streets, visiting problem areas, and demanding accurate data. Before suspending a single official, the administration should have conducted a citywide audit, identifying which manholes are missing covers, which are damaged, and which are high-risk. In one interview, the Mayor acknowledged Karachi has 245,000 manholes, of which 88,000 new covers were installed in the last year. He did not clarify the status of the remaining manholes: are they intact, missing, or unaccounted for? Such ambiguity highlights the fragmented nature of civic management.

Karachi does not need symbolic suspensions; it needs a system that citizens can access without being trapped in bureaucratic runarounds. Reporting a missing manhole cover should take one phone call, not a full tour of municipal offices. At a minimum, the city should have immediately established:

  • A dedicated, widely publicised hotline where citizens can report missing manholes, with complaint tracking and mandatory follow-up.
  • A real-time reporting website or dashboard, monitored by a dedicated team, showing hazards, response times, and resolution status.
  • A theft-prevention strategy, including composite or plastic manhole covers with little resale value.
  • Rapid-response units are tasked with securing any reported hazard within hours, not weeks.

Cities around the world treat uncovered manholes as emergency-level threats. In Karachi, they are treated as routine nuisances until a child dies and the media takes notice.

The tragedy also exposes deeper administrative failures within KMC and KWSB. According to sources, KWSB invoices only 40% of its users due to internal inefficiencies. With such low revenue, the department cannot maintain infrastructure or deliver basic services. KMC likely faces similar constraints. Chronic inefficiency, weak accountability, and outdated work culture mean that basic civic responsibilities—billing, maintenance, and hazard mitigation—are left unfulfilled. Karachiites cannot and should not be penalised for these institutional failings.

A structural and cultural overhaul of these departments is long overdue. Governance must become proactive, data-driven, and citizen-centric. Leaders must listen, act, and implement systemic reforms instead of blaming citizens for pointing out failures.

Karachi’s open manholes are a symbol of a governance system that remains shut. Until leadership recognises that public criticism and activism are not threats but catalysts for change, more children will fall into the abyss beneath our streets. The city can no longer afford leaders who ask its citizens to stay silent. It needs leadership that listens and acts before another life is lost.

The author is a freelance journalist and Senior Research Fellow at the Center for Research & Security Studies