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ACROSS Pakistan, it becomes evident that circumstances in the country are what they are because it faces double jeopardy: if on one side there is a neglectful and inefficient state, on the other is a population that is careless and undereducated. I am reminded of this by the ban imposed recently in Karachi on swimming in the sea.
The city’s beaches have always constituted a valued outdoor recreation spot. There’s the Seaview stretch right at hand. An hour away, there are Hawkesbay and Sandspit, both public beaches. Further lie Cape Montz, which offers golden(ish) sand, and Paradise Point whose eye-like sandstone rock promontory collapsed some years ago.
On summer weekends, these beaches are thronged with thousands of people, the majority of them from middle- and lower-income backgrounds. Patriarchs will pool their resources and rent out a van, a coaster, a bus, or simply load up the family’s modest car, and head towards the water. Young men on motorbikes or spilling out of rickshaws will arrive by the hundreds. This is a city of conflict. But on the sands, there is a curious sort of egalitarianism: bare heads and burkas, beards and clean-shaves, swimming trunks and full kurta shalwars, all share ownership.
There are people earning their living off the beach: along the broken main road, which crosses through localities populated by the urban poor, tiny shops that sell ice and beach balls and beach hats; on the sands, snake-charmers and men offering rides on horses and camels, vendors of roasted corn and sellers of toy aeroplanes made out of scavenged plastic sheeting.
The authorities have done little to make the beach safer.
But nothing gold can last, as the poet said. During the monsoons, during which the weather is hottest, the sea is treacherous; a few souls are lost every year. Last year was different, though; the beaches saw thousands of visitors during the July Eid-ul-Fitr holidays, and when the city administration swung back into action, it was discovered that upwards of two dozen people had died.
Its solution was to ban swimming in the sea under Section 144, which amongst other things prevents the assembly of people in specified places. Over the subsequent weekends, thousands of people heading to the beach found their way blocked by the police. The reasoning was simple; if this flood of people were allowed to get to the sand, it would be impossible to prevent them from entering the waters. Effectively, then, the ban was on access to the beach.
It is true that the crowds are impossible to control. I have often seen policemen and lifeguards warning people, and being completely ignored or answered with rudeness, even violence. At Paradise Point, several signboards warn people about sections of the rocky shelf that are unsafe; they go unheeded. Just last week, a young girl died and her brother was swept out to sea as the family picnicked at Hawkesbay.
If people aren’t thoughtful enough to care for their own safety, I must concede the state has to do it for them — like having laws requiring motorcyclists to wear helmets.
But now, a year later, the city administration has once again imposed the ban, and this time for six months — which takes us all the way to the end of the year, long after the monsoon has ended, long after the waters are placid again. That is one dimension that makes me extremely critical of the authorities.
The other dimension is this: a full year since those deaths occurred, what has the administration done to make the beaches safer? Seaview beach, where the majority of the deaths occurred, has a few new lifeguards’ watch towers. But there has been no hint that the lifeguards’ numerical strength has been beefed up, no awareness raising campaign in the run-up to the monsoons.
Referring to Seaview in particular, substantial portions of the adjacent coastline are seeing reclamation activity (this is an area where real estate is not just extremely highly priced, it is also in short supply). Recent years have seen the construction, right by the edge of the water, of a massive high-rise building just a short distance off Seaview beach. Has any attempt been made to explore how these developments may have affected the currents? There must be some reason why most of the deaths occurred at Seaview, and why never in such numbers in earlier years.
Instead, the city administration has again taken the easy way out. Like last year, the ban is on swimming, not access to the beach; but again, last weekend people were prevented from getting there. Eventually, whether the ban is in place or not, the coast will simply fade from people’s memory. Might we then see the beaches either being developed as real estate to make the city money, or the huts sold off to the elite since the public isn’t allowed there/doesn’t go there anymore?
The writer is a member of staff.
Published in Dawn, June 22nd, 2015
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