Wholly avoidable deaths: KARACHI FILE
By A. B. S. Jafri
GOOD indeed it is to hear some people talking of steps to check traffic accidents in Karachi’s mostly traffic-choked streets. ‘Accident’ here is an obvious euphemism for ‘deaths’ in roadside crashes. More people are getting killed or maimed than ever. Considering the unrelieved mess, the surprise is that so many millions still manage to reach home in one piece.
Two obvious factors have combined to create this deadly situation. First, just too many vehicles and humans on the move than the roads can contain. Second, mostly inferior kind of traffic discipline. This recipe would inevitably result in the same incidence of accidents and deaths anywhere in the world. The fault is not in this city’s stars but in the unwisdom of those who pretend they are serving it.
The average driver of public transport — from the three-wheeler to the monsters rushing away on 22 — is by and large unfit to touch the steering wheel. His knowledge of driving is minimal, skills nominal; road manners totally absent. He uses the horn when he should be easing the accelerator. About road signs and signals, he is illiterate. He has no idea of the right of way. He is the gushing antithesis of the idea that culture is a sensitive awareness of the other man’s comfort.
How come he is driving heavy vehicles carrying scores of passengers? Elementary. Cash and the clout of this Wadera or tribal Malik master gets him the driving licence without a real driving test. He, or his master, keeps everyone along the route happy. Just read the verses and curses on these public vehicles and you would know who mostly the public transport owners might be. This is an inveterate Mafia, from one end to the other.
Those who are supposed to control traffic are either enamoured or afraid of the men who rule the roads in Karachi. By one estimate well over half of the buses playing in Karachi do not have proper documents. Not many of them stick to the permitted routes. Under pressure to make so much of money by the end of the day, they drive fast and make extra round trips. They have no meal timings, no breaks, no limit to working hours or mileage. It is one long, dreary slog till it is another day.
Those who know this trade suspect that a large number of the public transport drivers resort to drugs. No wonder. Working endless hours would drive them to a quick restorative. After all, they are human beings. This is a matter for some responsible people in the government and society to be bothering about. If such people were not so rare, it would have been a better world for us.
Time and again the public transport issue has been focused in these columns. Some basic questions have been framed for the consideration of the government, of the Governor in particular. What other city of this size, and the compelling needs of this gigantic business centre, lives without rail transport? No answer. No wonder so many have to die in road accidents.
This city used to have a circular railway. By modern standard it was less than rudimentary. But there was enough of it to start building on. Those who were supposed to develop this system chose to do the dead opposite in return for rich rewards from the road Mafia. The same process had led to what at one point was scarcely short of the collapse of the entire national railway network.
Now they are talking of adding larger buses. There is hardly room for a straw on Karachi’s roads. As it is, the buses crawl bumper-to-bumper. If and when more monsters are let loose upon the streets, Karachi will come to a grinding halt. Those who administer this city seem to be either just about as informed about today’s world as the frogs in the well. Or they are bent upon feathering their nests, regardless of what happens to this city.
What adds immensely to the despair of the educated citizen is the absence of contemporary thinking among the elected leadership of city administration. The Nazim has been travelling a great deal. In around ten months he has been over half the planet, without being much wiser. To return from China uneducated must be an achievement in reverse to the advice of the Holy Prophet (PBUH).
The only way to deal with the increasing killing on Karachi’s roads is to reduce traffic, not increase it. Revive and develop urban rail transport and do this as a crash programme. This cannot be done unless our administrators are able to resist the temptations from the runaway road Mafia. Nowhere in the civilized world today major city transport relies entirely on roads. Urban rail system is the only answer. Stop strangulating what you have of the KCR. Start applying urgent respiration remedy. Given some will, some wisdom, this can be done quicker than we expect. No other way to reduce roadside manslaughter. These are wholly avoidable deaths.


New horizons, old systems
By Maheen A. Rashdi
KARACHI: Sameera, who is a senior HR executive in a multinational, strode into my house the other day with her husband and two children, stating dramatically, ‘We are leaving town for good. We just came to say goodbye.’ Now, being halfway to becoming a hermit, I hardly go visiting family or friends. You could label it a snobbish attitude, as I prefer my own intellect (I can always win all arguments with myself, you see) to arguing with lesser mortals and so, stay away from inane gatherings. I hence end up being pretty ‘out-of-it’. To regularly break the peace in my routine life, are four over ebullient creatures I live with — namely; my three kids and a husband — so the need for company is fulfilled at home. With an obvious ‘don’t-call-me’ attitude, visitors too are rare. This scant interaction with the outside world leaves me with almost no information in my data bank of what’s happening in other people’s lives, which is anyway crammed with proposals, presentations and other job-related ‘to-do’ lists on the one side and ideas for nonsensical articles (such as the one you are being subjected to now) on the other.
Oblivious to how she had stunned me with this startling announcement of settling abroad, Sameera continued, ‘Actually, we are migrating to Canada,’ she said excitedly. ‘We hadn’t told anybody because we didn’t want it to get around to our work place as we weren’t really sure of how long it would all take.’ Sameera — whom I have known since we were ten — and her husband are sound of mind and sure-footed people. She is a successful professional and her husband is at a high managerial level in a foreign bank. So what was it that triggered on this cataclysmic decision of exchanging a well-settled life with a struggling immigrant status?
The reasons my friend poured forth were many. Some, personal, while some of general significance. Her children’s education featured primary in her reasons to leave. With two children aged ten and seven she was already spending almost ten thousand rupees on a monthly basis for their education in schools of good repute. And this was just the very junior level. Once they would enter senior school, it would easily amount to twenty thousand rupees a month not counting the examination fees for ‘O’ levels. And from there on, it is just an increasing graph. Living expenses apart, no amount of money can ensure provision of daily amenities like water and electricity, which rest in the hands of the state. And after a couple slogs their entire youth away maintaining high costs of living at the cost of neglecting their kids, what remains in the bank to show for oneself? Not enough to ensure high education for their children and a stable roof over the head in old age. It is obvious that free education for the kids and state-sponsored medical facilities become the big plus factor when achieving professionals opt for the post immigration struggle. So, ‘If slog we must, I’d rather do it to ensure my children’s future, rather than to maintain silly status standards here and remain broke at the end of every month,’ asserted Sameera while explaining her reasons for migrating.
It is true, though, maintaining status is what kills the ‘in- between’ class of working people. And you almost always end up spending that part of your income — which should be saved — on your house, car or children’s entertainment. ‘But why shouldn’t I want those things? I work hard and I want to enjoy the best that life has to offer. And I know I can do that out there. There, I don’t need to prove that I have connections to get anywhere. I know I am worthy and I will Inshallah be successful. Not like here where you are measured by the house you live in or the car you drive or whom you know!’ Well, she had a point. And she was showing enough verve to convince me that she would will the success for herself.
Having heard of many tangles and twists in the whole immigration procedure, I asked her how simple or difficult it had been to get through, and that was when a torrent of abuses and indecencies came out. Apparently, it had all gone relatively smooth till where the Canadian officials were involved, but where our own people came into play it became a nightmare.
The first step was gathering official documents like birth certificates, and ID cards (which were lost) etc. That could have been agonizing but money buys a lot around this part of the world that we live in and, the time-frame involved for getting these documents made is directly proportional to the money one is willing to spend on the agents. A stickler who follows rules will end up with a lot of sound and fury but no paper in hand! So one needs to bury the principles for a while and get the work done. Once the relevant personal documents are in hand for all members of the family one just needs to arrange them in the way indicated in the submission form; fill the form and courier the package to the Canadian High Commission in any one of the long list of designated countries. The many immigration agents — the Sunday Advertiser is full of adverts of many such institutions — actually charge 1500 to 2000 US dollars for just arranging the wretched documents; which the hopeful immigrant has to provide himself and for filling the form; again, with information provided by the client himself. It is a business of turning another’s ignorance into one’s profit!
Those who have gone through these agents were told at the interview that it is preferred that NO agents are involved. After receiving the documents package, the Canadian High Commission affirms receipt of the documents and then in due time intimates the date of the interview. No source or influence determines the interview outcome. It rests entirely on how the individual conducts himself/herself. It all has to add up to a total of designated points which are assessed on academic qualifications; years of work experience, age, proficiency in languages (English/French) and final points for the interview. But like I said, this is the relatively easy process as it involves just the High Commission people (presuming you are not using the agents).
What ends up becoming a nightmare is the medical examination that needs to be taken at home. There are only two to three privileged practitioners from each major city listed among the names of doctors supplied by the Canadian High Commission. You can take your pick. They are all out to dig something out from your insides to give you a medical run around. A series of investigation starts with such a vengeance that you end up with the feeling that you might die in a week’s time, whereas to all intent and purposes you were a perfectly healthy human when you started out. From MRIs to Echo Cardiograms to Nuclear element induced tests to umpteen blood tests & ultrasounds to 24-hour urine tests (God knows how one manages that one!); you could be asked to go through any or all of them. The brotherhood of medicine has its own band of specialists from where you shuttle back and forth for consultations and report confirmations etc. And when you are actually about to drop dead from fatigue and mounting bills, you are finally given a letter that you were initially suspected of being clinically dead but the medical men & women have miraculously found reasons for your being alive and hence have passed you as normal! I was told that some people have spent close to Rs150,000 on this medical rigmarole. Obviously, with so much already invested, one will hardly give up at this last stage, though many have been sorely tempted to do so. Once the medical results reach the Canadian High Commission, it takes between four to ten weeks for the visas to reach you. And once that ticket to ride is in your hand, nothing that you’ve gone through seems so horrible. After all, attainment of a new life can hardly be easy. From there on it is luck, hard work and the will to survive which determines your fate in the land of plenty.
Though one might add an end of line here for the country’s intelligentsia. Someone needs to wake up to the fact that these hopeful immigrants are the hard working, capable professionals who are depleting this country’s manpower resource by opting to apply their skills elsewhere. These are those who are honest and are happy following rules and discipline. The gaps in our system triggering the decisions of many like Sameera should be addressed now. Otherwise, we won’t have any but the corrupt and inept, running and ruling our country — a terrifying thought indeed!

