Show me the money
By Irfan Malik
CLASS comes into it though not necessarily. The disease is not limited to those whose perfume you can smell without nibbling on their ears, or the murderous wannabes who emerged cockroach-like from their latrines on May 12. Save the odd voice of sanity, everyone is afflicted.
You know the sort. They’ll point to a piece of land and, without a hint of irony, explain how all this used to be a jungle but now it’s a golf course. The kind of people who would rather see a marina where a mangrove forest stands. Grown men and women who are impressed by shopping malls, tower blocks, gated communities, seven-star hotels, armed guards and other such facades of prosperity in a dismally poor country. They are everywhere.
‘Megacity’ ought to be a slur but is touted as an achievement, not least by our nazim from the singularly glorious MQM. (Let us ignore, briefly, the law that stipulates that local government officials must not be members of political parties.) On the ‘development’ front at least, the DHA is wholly in agreement with the delusion artists of Azizabad. So is the prime minister and the chief minister of Punjab.
The common thread here is that they all have an abiding interest in finance.
Those who are in any way opposed to this wholesale destruction of the environment are casually dismissed as ‘anti-development’. If this twisted definition qualifies me for the label, then so be it for I have no qualms about being anti this money-grubbing campaign.
At least I have no personal stake in the matter, save the simple pleasure of being able to lie on the beach, any beach, and watch the waves roll in. The motives of those who stand to make millions — dollars, not rupees — from the ‘development’ drive now sweeping the country are less homely.
They are but an aberration in the space-time continuum that will shortly be rectified, and they know it. So these modern-day Caligulas must seize the day and roll out those contracts while they may. Herrick had virgins in mind but the idea’s the same.
The death of Bundal and Buddo islands, as well as the DHA waterfront, was not enough to sate the appetite of those devouring Karachi piece by piece. Now we must contend with the curiously named Sugarland City, a monster project that may uproot some 200,000 people from the villages their families have called home for centuries and privatise vast chunks of the coastline from Sandspit to Cape Monze.
Sugarland City covers a mind-boggling 60,000 acres and is expected to cost 68 billion dollars to build. A developer based in Dubai (where else) is behind the venture that will evict residents, close off the sea to fishermen, hack down mangroves and restrict the public’s access to the beach to certain ‘select’ spots. The policy of apartheid — keeping the haves at a safe distance from the have-nots — is becoming all the more brazen in Karachi.
The marine turtle sanctuary in Sandspit is as good as dead, even if the land itself is spared. Large-scale human habitation in the vicinity, and specifically the garbage it will generate, will attract hordes of rodents and feral dogs that don’t know any better and will happily tuck into the eggs of an endangered species. Bright lights on what is still a secluded coast may also confuse the hatchlings, making them head inland instead of towards the sea.
Manora too will not escape the wrath of the developers. A luxury resort featuring a five-star hotel is planned for the island, and it stands to reason that all the residents will be shown the ferry. Or walled into a ghetto so their poverty doesn’t jar on the nerves of the revellers.
Enough said, for now.
imalik@dawn.com

