May 26, 2008	Monday	Jamadi-ul-Awwal 20, 1429

KARACHI: For the uninitiated, it is almost surreal: men and boys, stepping out of their homes into the unpaved and narrow alleys of Nursery Town, in Korangi 2-1/2, as the clock strikes three in the night, armed with rolls of colourful plastic tubing.

Dropping the pipes to their fixed post, they retrace to fetch the next batch of equipment — suction pumps on their shoulders or rolled on trolley and yards of electric wire. This is all the equipment that is needed for their nightly jaunt. There is a sprinkling of women also where the household has no men.

The small slum of Nursery Town in Korangi and adjoining two Francis Town and Joseph Gill Town, small squatter settlements within the Korangi Industrial and Trading Estates, has yet to see piped water coming into the homes. The estimated 325 families are those evicted from Gulshan-i-Iqbal, Nursery and PECHS since the early eighties.

For over 15 years, the only way they have been able to access water for their daily needs is by illegally tapping it from the mains.

Over 60 per cent of Karachi’s population lives in informal settlements according to urban planner Arif Hasan. In the absence of a proper infrastructure, the communities have invested in building their sewerage and drainage systems.

In Understanding Karachi, a book written by Hasan, 90 per cent of these homes “have linked themselves illegally to government supply systems”.

But Shahid Gill, a resident of the community refutes this allegation. “Each house paid Rs2,500 to the union council, so how can you call it illegal?” says the 28-year old who works as an office boy with a non-governmental organization.

These connections may be seen as small rubber protrusions. Some are readily visible on the sides inside the storm-water drain running parallel to the mainline just outside the colony.

The water comes for two hours only, from four to six in the morning, on alternate days in the mainline in the Nursery Town area and thus the preparation. It is from these connections that water is siphoned off to their homes through suction pumps turned on by illegal electric connections.

This informal infrastructure is never officially recognized and so never integrated into official sewerage and water supply systems being planned by the government.

“Karachi, with a population of 16 million with a minimum requirement of 20 gallons per day per person needs at least 320 million gallons per day (mgd),” says Perween Rehman, director of the Orangi Pilot Project’s Research and Technical wing. The industries need an additional 123mgd, she says.

There are two main sources of water supply to Karachi – from the Indus river that supplies 645mgd and the Hub dam that supplies about 50mgd. But because the latter is rain-fed, the supply fluctuates between 30mgd and 75mgd.

Among other factors, about 15 per cent of the water is wasted due to technical leakages and another 41 per cent (or 272mgd) is siphoned off from the bulk distribution and supplied through tankers. “And this is a very conservative estimate!” says Rehman, talking to IPS.

As a result, the 18 towns, supposed to get a total of 417.65mgd water from the Karachi Water and Sewerage Board (KWSB), receive only 293mgd and even there the distribution is inequitable. The affluent areas receive as much as 100 per cent or even 133 per cent of their requirement (in the Defence Housing Authority) with others as little as from 30 to 57 per cent.

Among other recommendations, like independent power supply at the pumping stations to stem the interruptions, Rehman emphasizes that authorities should focus on metering to assist in ensuring all areas get their required quota of water.

“According to the KWSB sources, there are 1.17 million water consumers [those that get water from the KWSB directly] in Karachi, of which 758,500 are on the billing role and 163,000 are regular payers. No action is taken against the defaulters and the KWSB runs at a perpetual loss,” states the 2002 edition of the same book by Hasan. The situation has not changed at all, says Rehman.

Back in Nursery Town, once all the trappings have been brought out from the home, then begins the more arduous part of setting it up.

“The first thing to do is to attach the electric wire with the help of a kunda [a metal hook slung over a power cable in the same manner] to the grid,” explains Asif Ayub, 17, a movie-maker. “It’s not an easy task in the thick of the night, especially for those who are still groggy from sleep.”

This illegal power supply is needed to run the suction pump that draws water from the mainline and pumps it further into the storage tank at home. Ayub has taken over from his father. “I don’t sleep at all. It works out better for me as I find waking up in the middle of the night more difficult.”

The whole thing looks pretty complicated and perhaps it is. A strange convoluted network of various rubber and plastic pipes, bandaged at various intervals and live wires, dangerously close to leaking pipes that have formed water puddles are laid out in the alleys. “Getting electric shocks is commonplace,” says Gill. He did it for six years but following his marriage, his younger brother has taken over.

“It’s usually the youngest male in the family, but one old enough to be able to carry the heavy gear, and able to do the wiring,” interjects Kashif Naeem, 18, who has been doing this since he was 14. “The idea is that he’s someone who does not have to get up early to go for work.” Naeem stopped studying after Grade 6.

But there seems to be no let-up for 16-year-old Shahin Waris who was in the middle of his high school board exam. “I’ve been doing it for the past three years.” Asked if someone else can take over so he can prepare for his exam as well as take enough rest, he explains: “I have an older brother, but he is in his second year of medicine so…” and he gets busy with his work.

But there are ‘no-water’ days as well.

“It takes us a good 15 to 20 minutes to bring all the equipment out from our homes and almost an hour to set it up, only to learn that there will be no water. Can you imagine the frustration?” says Jamaluddin, wrapping up and fighting back his anger.

With frequent power outages all through summer, the supply of water from the mains remains erratic. If there is electricity at the pumping stations but none in our area, we still can’t pump the water as we do not have the electricity to turn on our suction pumps.

With the result, the neighbourhood either buys a tanker for the day or individually borrow/buy water from their neighbours and strict rationing is carried out.

But the more popular water supply means is buying a tanker at Rs250 /1,000 gallons (which is brackish and unfit for drinking) by a few homes collectively. If that is not always affordable then from individual water suppliers roaming in lanes on donkey-carts selling 25 gallons for Rs100.

There are also areas, like Orangi, where regular water tankers supply to individual homes. “These tankers visit homes individually and supply five minutes of water at Rs250 to Rs300 and it comes to 300-400 gallons.

The enterprising among the squatter residents have taken advantage of the erratic supplies and entered into water supply business.

They have more than one suction pump and a bigger storage tank. “When the water does not come in the mainline, we buy water from these people. This is at the rate of between Rs100 and Rs200,” says Gill.