city
owners
From taking it easy to taking charge
Kudos to the CDGK's 'I Own Karachi' campaign that aspires to transform apathetic residents to protectors of the city. Ahmed Yusuf talks to Azhar Hashmi, the driving force of the project
There is something magical about Karachi. To any outsider, Karachi is just another city with the pretensions of becoming a mega-city - big, dirty and full of chaos. For many of us though, Karachi is much more. With the serenity of the evening sea breeze, the late-night donkey cart races, the nihari and biryani of the city's finest connoisseurs, the outward secularism coupled with the celebration of religious festivals with splendour, along with the celebration of multiple ethnicities and their festivals –Karachi is a true microcosm of Pakistan. 

viewpoint
In a dicey situation
Karachiites have remained indifferent to the problems of their city for too long. Will the 'City Owners' project actually lead Karachi towards prosperity?
Shiraz Mukarram comments
Where on one hand campaigns like 'I Own Karachi' have made headlines so has the violence in this city. From the pseudo-leadership of the eighties, to 'Operation Clean-up' of the nineties, to the bloodshed that continues today, Karachi has been rife with ethnic and sectarian abuse with no one being held accountable. This has made Karachiites insecure and hesitant to come forward and work towards its progress.

sports 
shopping
 
The last wicket falls
Few things are more painful to Rashid than the lack of interest in sports in young people today
By Fasahat Mohiuddin   
Rashid is the owner of Shahid Sports, a sports shop in Nazimabad established in 1965 by his late father, Alahuddin. Rashid sees Nazimabad as an area steeped in sporting history, a history given a big hand by Shahid Sports.

 

 

 

city

owners

From taking it easy to taking charge

Kudos to the CDGK's 'I Own Karachi' campaign that aspires to transform apathetic residents to protectors of the city. Ahmed Yusuf talks to Azhar Hashmi, the driving force of the project

There is something magical about Karachi. To any outsider, Karachi is just another city with the pretensions of becoming a mega-city - big, dirty and full of chaos. For many of us though, Karachi is much more. With the serenity of the evening sea breeze, the late-night donkey cart races, the nihari and biryani of the city's finest connoisseurs, the outward secularism coupled with the celebration of religious festivals with splendour, along with the celebration of multiple ethnicities and their festivals –Karachi is a true microcosm of Pakistan. 

Against this backdrop, the initiation of the 'I Own Karachi' project by the City District Government Karachi (CDGK) on August 13 was a welcome enterprise when City Nazim Syed Mustafa Kamal had urged citizens to come forward to "protect the civic infra-structure of the city through voluntary actions".

Project Director for 'I Own Karachi', Syed Azhar Hashmi, told Kolachi that the plan had evolved to safeguard all the developmental work that the CDGK had carried out by giving citizens the ownership of this work. "What we had witnessed in the past was that developmental work would be carried out, but then no one really looked after those projects. The concept we tried to introduce was that each developmental work, even if it is planting a tree, is for the city and its citizens. Regardless of what creed, caste, ethnicity or political affiliation, citizens have to protect the city and its development. They have to become 'City Owners'."

Hashmi, who is also the Chief Community Police Officer, said that thus far, the 'I Own Karachi' initiative has received a resounding response from the residents of Karachi. "On August 14, we were all astonished to see a huge presence of volunteers for the campaign. We were expecting that maybe a couple of thousand would turn up, but getting 7,000 was beyond our imagination. Perhaps it was due to the credibility of City Nazim Syed Mustafa Kamal," he said, and added with pride, "Today, the number of volunteers is 25,000."  

The premise of the plan was that the resources and manpower of the CDGK were over-stretched with developmental work in the city was still at an evolutionary stage, and without the contribution of the citizens, more developmental work could not be undertaken in earnest.

The 'I Own Karachi' plan requires citizens to register themselves as 'City Owners' by signing a form available at designated desks at the Civic Center CDGK office, the offices of various towns, through the CDGK helpline 1339, and their website. Once registered, the forms are sent to a centralised data system, where the data is sorted in terms of towns and areas of interest. 'City Owner' cards are then issued through a centralised distribution network and couriered to the volunteers' addresses. The information regarding volunteers is sent to all the 18 towns and Executive District Officers, who decide how to best utilise volunteers.

According to Hashmi, there are many issues besetting Karachi.  Bearing this in mind, the programme has started with little steps aiming to create a larger impact.

Volunteers are being trained to deal with issues that are top priority, such as child labour and abuse, provision of medical facilities especially at government hospitals, and the inculcation of civic virtues in citizens. Educational institutes have also been taken on board, with Agha Khan University, Ziauddin Medical University, the University of Karachi, Sir Syed College, Abdullah College, Karachi Grammar School, and The City School prominent amongst those who volunteered.

Talking about the provision of health facilities, Hashmi said that a few meetings had taken place between the members of the city government, the 'I Own Karachi' program, the World Health Organisation and the UNICEF regarding polio eradication. Through the initiative, City Owners, in collaboration with medical universities, will seek to eradicate polio in the city – a phenomenon that has increased in Karachi in the wake of the internal migration caused by the military operation in the north-western areas of the country.

The 'I Own Karachi' scheme, however, is not perfect, and Hashmi recognises this. "Like any other new initiative, of course, this one has its teething problems as well. The primary issue is about managing such a large number of volunteers. Currently we utilise the Community Police (CP) to protect our City Owners, and in the larger scheme of things, the success of the 'I Own Karachi' initiative is intrinsically tied to the CP. However, the CDGK is short on employees," he said, and went on to suggest that instead of thousands of volunteers, if only a hundred hard-working volunteers were picked for the job, the project will do wonders.

"Secondly, for some reason the message hasn't quite filtered across to the other side of the bridge. We are working on it, and we hope more people from affluent neighbourhoods will become 'City Owners' too."

Despite its achievements, some allege that the 'I Own Karachi' scheme has not proved to be inclusive. Many contend that urban Sindhis and Pukhtoons have been historically marginalised in the city, and any scheme of ownership of the city must take this discrimination into account.

Hashmi, however, believes that these fears are unfounded. "The Nazim initiated this plan so that residents across Karachi - from Defence and Clifton to Malir and beyond, from M.A. Jinnah Road to Sohrab Goth - all have a sense of belonging and ownership. This is a people-centric plan, not one dictated by political affiliations."

Another issue is the sustainability of the 'I Own Karachi' project itself, given that its existence is tied to the city government.

According to Hashmi, the programme is prepared for any such eventuality. "If the system of local governance were to even collapse, 'I Own Karachi' would fall under the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation. It is true that the scheme's efficacy would suffer in such a scenario, but we have faith that citizens will not let this initiative collapse. The CDGK has only made an initial investment. We hope that the plan will evolve into one that operates as an NGO and is critical in capacity building and fund generation."

Given that the efficacy of 'I Own Karachi' depends to a large extent upon the system of the city government remaining intact, perhaps the largest challenge the scheme faces is owning the system of local governance itself. If 'I Own Karachi' is successful in doing so, numerous opportunities may open up for the citizens of Karachi.

Who does Karachi belong to and do you own the city?

Zeeshan Ahmad, 22, student: 

"Yes I do. I think Karachi belongs to every Pakistani because it welcomes people from all parts of the country with open arms. One does not feel discriminated here. I like the spirit of this city because being a member of a religious minority, I feel quite secure here as compared to other parts of the country I have been to."

Ali Haider Habib, 21, student: 

"I like this city but I don't think I own it and give it the respect I should. I know I follow traffic rules not because I am a responsible citizen or want to set an example, but because I don't want to waste my money on bribes. I suppose my intentions aren't right then." 

Gulzaman, 45, watchman:k

"Karachi belongs to the Mohajirs. Being a Pukhtoon, I am only a mehman (guest) here. My real home is Peshawar that I own."

Lubinka Zafar, 21, student: 

"Karachi belongs to everyone who lives here, but we are all hypocrites as we do not own this city as we should. All we do is criticise all that's wrong out on the street in our drawing rooms. The real people who own Karachi are those who chalk the walls at night to express their anger and those who find that wall chalking dirty and clean the walls later. They are the sufferers, they are the ones who react, and they are the true owners."

Rafiq Khan, driver:

"The government owns the city. If the public is expected to take care of everything, why do these politicians ask for votes? They should let the public take their seats and should prove their worth when in power. We need to see them doing some work too."

Muhammad Rashid, barber:

"The government can't do everything alone. The city belongs to the civil society and the authorities equally who should work together and take responsibility. It's a 50-50 deal."

Sherezade Khan, lawyer:

"Well by the looks of it, the city belongs to broken roads, overflowing sewage and lots and lots of waste."

-- By Rafay Mahmood & Abid Hussain

 

In a dicey situation

Karachiites have remained indifferent to the problems of their city for too long. Will the 'City Owners' project actually lead Karachi towards prosperity?

Shiraz Mukarram comments

Where on one hand campaigns like 'I Own Karachi' have made headlines so has the violence in this city. From the pseudo-leadership of the eighties, to 'Operation Clean-up' of the nineties, to the bloodshed that continues today, Karachi has been rife with ethnic and sectarian abuse with no one being held accountable. This has made Karachiites insecure and hesitant to come forward and work towards its progress.

Moreover, internal migration to this cosmopolitan city has further resulted in a laidback attitude among residents who expect the city's administration to solve all their problems. And when it fails to do so, there are some who like to think they have the 'freedom' to take matters in their own hands.

Walls beleaguered with graffiti and political statements across the city is a common sight. But there are many who justify its existence. "We have no other medium to vent our frustration. Spraying what we believe is very self-satisfying," says Ali Rija, a volunteer party worker at Jehangir Road.

Rija is not the only one who thinks this.

"As citizens, we can only point out the problems and lay them out in such a way that they get noticed. The new government should take immediate action," said Ahmad Raza, an Intermediate student and resident of Gulistan-e-Jauhar. 

What is, however, disturbing is not the presence of problems in this financial hub, but the fact that many have come to take for granted the problems that would have shocked the generations of the sixties and seventies, such as knowledge that electricity will be dear during the summer, or the certainty that city will be swamped with wreckage during monsoons, or the fact that (most) men will smirk at women.

Today, one can be sure that the traffic police will accept bribes at every street junction, and citizens are well aware that parts of the city will forever be deprived of running water. Most of the roads around the city will remain sprinkled with potholes, and people will no more be surprised when mobs hurl stones and burn down buses and petrol pumps.

While all this goes on, the educated affluent class twitters over the city's pathetic condition and mumble about what the government is or is not doing, and what it should be doing instead. The middle class – that constitutes majority of the city's population – thinks itself detached from the problems plaguing society and the lower strata believe themselves to be too feeble to be able to achieve anything except scrape together diharis (daily wages) from one day to the next.

The question that we, the citizens of Karachi, should be asking is not "Why Karachi?", but "Why not Karachi?" It is easy to sit back, moan, maybe rant for a while in the console of our living rooms, and then go on with our petty daily lives. All the while, our homes are looted, our cell phones snatched in public, our houses and shops are deprived of electricity and water, our government hospitals and public beaches stinking of open sewer lines.

Despite all this, no one rises to lodge a complaint with their local union council or police station. Unfortunately, political parties have not been of much help either. Instead of uniting citizens of different ethnicities residing in Karachi, they have further divided parts of the city marking their line of control with their party flags flying high in their area of influence.

It is sad but true that Karachi has been totally ignored by none other than its very citizens. By the time we realise that we have to take care of the city ourselves, it will be too late. We organise rallies, shout slogans, wave flags, and wave our arms indignantly, but the question we should be asking is what change has all this brought in our lives? Every rally and strike paralyses life in the city, affects small business, and just pushes us back towards medieval times one step at a time. 

It is high time that Karachiites shake themselves out of their present state of indifference otherwise as a resident of North Nazimabad, Abdul Rizwan, puts it, "We are going to have to remove Karachi from the list of cities pretty soon. We do not get running water or electricity or security at all. No one really cares – we live dicey lives." With these numerous challenges the city is faced with, one can only hope that projects like 'I Own Karachi' will help reduce the cynicism among the youth and compel them to work towards the betterment of the city they belong to.

 

 

woes

Land of opportunities and obstacles

Despite the high fees, accommodation hassles, cultural variance and rescheduling glitches, students from outside

Karachi continue to pour in for better educational prospects as they have no better option to turn to at home

By Rafay Mahmood

Karachi, famously the hub of economic and educational activity in Pakistan, houses some of the most renowned universities of the country. Every year, thousands of students paying huge amounts in fees come from far-flung areas of Balochistan, Punjab and the North-West Frontier Province to Karachi to study in the University of Karachi (KU), the Institute of Business Administration (IBA), Agha Khan University Hospital, NED, Hamdard College of Medicine and Dentistry, and many more.

Many of the students from the Northern areas of Pakistan come here to become doctors. Since the war on terror began, there has been a great scope for the field of medicine in these areas, and Karachi's big universities are these students' ticket to a better educational prospect.

Their story begins the day they step into the mega city and try to find a place to live. A good place to live is defined as a place that is affordable and within the city premises, but the testimony of all of these non-local students proves that this is usually easier said than done.  

Money matters

Jaam Aftab Alam, a fourth-year MBBS student at HCMD, has changed five apartments since he arrived in Karachi from Rahim Yar Khan, Punjab.

"The owner of the house took a security deposit worth Rs5,000 in addition to the rent," he told Kolachi, thinking back to his first apartment. "One month later, I planned to shift elsewhere and demanded my security back, but got just Rs3, 200. The owner told me that Rs1, 000 had been deducted for the commission agent, and Rs800 for the cutlery I had used."

Alam had no choice but to accept the money and leave. A situation such as this, is one all new students from a different city have been through. Initially, when they go to different apartments to rent a room, they are charged a lot of money, often more than the room is worth. In most cases, the students have no choice but to take whatever they are offered. Many say that accommodation problems force them to miss out in the first few days of their universities, but rental problems are only the tip of the iceberg of financial woes.  

"Nowadays the average security money for a two-bedroom unfurnished apartment is Rs200,000, while Rs20,000 is the average rent," explains Hammad Saleem, a student from Sadiqabad, Punjab, who has been studying in Karachi for two years and lives in an apartment near Nipa Chowrangi.  "Apart from this and the huge amounts of annual fees, we have to spend around Rs15,000 to Rs20,000 for basic furniture," he adds.

Saleem suggests that the government should either build hostels in Karachi for non-local students, or introduce a national standard in the education system. "That way, we won't need to come here and waste loads of money."

Social security

In addition to a host of financial problems, non-local students like Saleem and Alam often have trouble adjusting to the society of Karachi. As they arrive from different parts of Pakistan, they also bring with them their own cultures and traditions, but in this multicultural city, they often are unable to express themselves they way they want to and find it difficult to adjust.

It goes beyond just wearing clothes they are familiar with, and is more about finding someone who shares their mental framework. To achieve such unity, many students from similar geographic backgrounds or ethnicities form small communities within their institutes and live together to avoid being isolated from society. Far from uniting them, though, such insecurities often lead to further ethnic differences.

"My first room mates were Sindhis and used to dominate me," recalls Alam. "They were proud to be the 'sons of the soil', and used to accuse me and my cousin of snatching their rights to education. Since then, I have been living in a small apartment, with all six of my roommates belonging to Lower Punjab."

According to Alam, differences in geographical backgrounds can lead to major ethnic clashes. Because so many of these students are discriminated against, they form small parties and unions to unite against what they perceive to be a common enemy – a main cause of student politics at university level. The trend is particularly common in KU.

Mir Pasand Khan, a KU student from Turbat, is currently pursuing his Master's in Sociology, and he says: "Students from Turbat, Quetta and other areas of Balochistan who come to Karachi to study are compelled to join student unions and parties because as non-local individuals, they don't have a say. No one addresses their issues, but once they become part of one of the parties, they have a representation, which has its own advantages and disadvantages."

The long road back home

After going through the hassle of finding accommodation, paying high rent and higher fees than local students, these particular students come to expect a certain level and cooperation from their universities, but this is not always so – something students from the NWFP in particular can attest to when it is time to go back home.

It takes two days to reach the NWFP by road from Karachi. Seats to Peshawar and Swat are not easily available because people keep travelling back and forth due to the political conditions. Therefore, reservations need to be made well in advance, but for students, this becomes a problem when university administrations announce both the examination and holiday schedules at very short notice.

"Every year, students from the NWFP face problems when they leave for home," says Azmat Shah Yousafzai of Bonair, a small village near Swat. Yousafzai, who is in his final year of his MBBS programme, elaborates how short-notice announcements can cause big problems.

"Initially our Eid and winter vacations for 2008 were announced from December 5 to December 19. I made a reservation and got my ticket, but just a week before the vacations were to start, we were notified that it had been rescheduled from December 1 to December 15. I had to get my reservation changed at the last minute but not everyone succeeded in managing it."

Despite the high fees, accommodation hassles, cultural variance and rescheduling glitches, students from outside Karachi continue to pour in, as they have no better option to turn to at home. Their problems are not going to go away, but for many, coming here is the only way they can get the quality higher education they need.

sports

shopping

The last wicket falls

Few things are more painful to Rashid than the lack of interest in sports in young people today

 

By Fasahat Mohiuddin   

Rashid is the owner of Shahid Sports, a sports shop in Nazimabad established in 1965 by his late father, Alahuddin. Rashid sees Nazimabad as an area steeped in sporting history, a history given a big hand by Shahid Sports.

This place has produced top most cricket and hockey players like Naseemul Ghani, the Hanif brothers, Qasim Omar, Saleem Yousuf, Razwan Uzaman, Tasleem Arif, and many others.

Every single one of these renowned sportsman has purchased equipment at one time or another by Shahid Sports. Rashid fondly remembers his father telling him 20 years ago that 'Nazimabad would constantly host cricket tournaments to an enormous, delighted crowd.'

But those days are over. The lack of interest in sports is evident in the timings of the shop – back in the heyday of sporting tournaments in Nazimabad, customers would be lounging around on the steps of the shop when it opened at 8:30 a.m. Today, it opens at 11:00 a.m., and Rashid has a long list of things to blame it on.

"Youngsters today spend most of their time on their mobile phones or chatting online. They have no time for sports, especially cricket," he says bitterly. He also blames the authorities for lack of sporting grounds in the city.

"Schools have funds, but teachers embezzle them all. It is rare to see a school team play a match or participate in tournaments. Habib Public School is the only school in Karachi that has regular cricket and hockey tournaments, producing talented players."

In Rashid's opinion, every area should have at least four or five government-sponsored sports complexes if sporting activities are to be revived.   

He also speculates that the law and order situation and the skyrocketing prices of today have played a role in this curtailed enthusiasm. Back when Rashid's father ran the shop, well-to-do families of the neighbourhood would finance cricket and hockey tournaments in the area. None of that happens any more.

When former cricketer Zaheer Abbas – yet another famous customer of the shop – lived close by, Rashid says that youngsters would eagerly wait all day and all night for their matches. At the time, gold, silver, and bronze trophies and medal from Shahid Sports would be constantly in demand for local tournaments, particularly every August 14. As the interest in sports has waned, so has the demand for trophies and medals. 

"They had the enthusiasm back then," says Rashid. "Now what happens is that banks just put up their name to sponsor tournaments, or give out a T-shirt or a kit with their logo.  Instead, they should provide employment to these youngsters if any one in this city wants to see sports flourish in the country again. This lack of interest has rendered thousands of people jobless. Regular local tournaments used to keep many people in employment."

One does not need to look far to see how big a role money plays in the dampening of sporting enthusiasm. In 1970, Rashid remembers that a cricket ball would cost Rs25. It is now Rs250 or Rs350.

Football has suffered a similar price hike. In 1980, a football would cost Rs150. Now, according to Rashid, it costs no less than Rs300.

"Financially able people of the area must come forward to sponsor to breed talents at a local level," maintains Rashid. "It is painful to see these youngsters lose interest in games," he laments. "More than the internet and mobile phones, they know that they cannot make it big unless they know influential people. They say there is no point, and ask why they should work hard if nothing will become of it."

Rashid's customers know no influential people. "Why should we work hard?" they say. "At the end of the day, someone else is going to get selected in a national team. It would be a waste of time and money."

It is notions such as these that former test cricketer Shoaib Mohammed is at pains to reject. "It is not true that you can't move ahead without connections," he insists. Shoaib is currently Chairman PIA sports division, and stressed the importance of being able to play well. "What is important is that you play at a match where there are selectors or a big player watching your game. If they see your talent, you will not be denied," he told Kolachi. "A player is groomed by seniors, but has to have talent to reach that spot in the first place."

Shoaib acknowledges that 15 years ago, those who were unable to play well got through because of 'power'. "They destroyed the games at every level," said Shoaib. He believes that high prices of sporting equipment are the reason youths today have turned away from the game, and is adamant that the only thing stopping anyone from getting ahead would be lack of talent.

Rashid points out that many youths cannot afford to have an interest in indoor games, such as squash or table tennis, as these require sports complexes, which are not in abundance. Under normal circumstances, business is usually high in June and July, when most youngsters are on holiday, but the current economic crises ensured that this year was different.  It is in a sorrowful tone that Rashid pronounces, "There is no cricket left in Nazimabad."

 

 

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