Alamgir Khan Mehsud of the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI) has been running his #FixIt campaign in Karachi to perform municipal jobs on a volunteer basis. Described as “a non-political platform to address local issues,” #FixIt has captured the imagination of many in terms of what can be done and what needs to be done. In Sindh, and particularly in Karachi, that translates into lots can be done, but none of which is being done at the moment.

As an initiative, #FixIt has perhaps come a year too late — had it started some time before local government elections, the PTI too could have harnessed the positive vibes and trust gained from the drive. Mehsud himself would have come across as a thinking leader, someone who takes initiative, someone cast in the mould of Mustafa Kamal, Karachi’s last mayor.

In presenting the platform as non-political, there isn’t much political mileage left to be derived, especially since an elected local government is already in waiting. Mehsud might be portrayed as a shadow mayor of sorts, but ultimately, an elected mayor will assume power and replace the functions of the #FixIt drive.

Volunteerism is crucial for a vibrant society but does it replace governance?

While #FixIt has undoubtedly proved that the power of volunteers can move mountains if harnessed responsibly, but does volunteerism provide permanent solutions? Were the Karachi local government permanently denied power, would #FixIt be able to fill the vacuum?

Take the health sector in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, for example. Upon assuming power, the government found itself beset with the crisis of polio immunisation and the attacks on health workers that were going door-to-door to administer polio drops.

In turn, the KP government launched the Sehat Ka Insaf initiative for immunisation, cleverly ensuring that polio drops were administered per set protocols through routine immunisation. In doing so, the KP government married the strength of government staff with volunteers, paying them a set remuneration for their time donated to the cause. Slowly but surely, the KP government managed to meet immunisation requirements in Peshawar, while efforts are underway to extend the programme to other parts of the province.

Critics of the plan rightly point to the sustainability of the initiative — were the PTI’s government to fall from KP after the next elections, what would be the fate of the volunteer programme that is being run by the provincial government?

The argument is powerful but changes to the system require painstaking persistence that volunteers simply cannot provide. By definition, volunteers’ time is theirs and theirs alone. The decision to impact change or become agents of change is also theirs to make. No government can bind volunteers to commit their time nor can it ask them to keep their commitments. Volunteerism is an individual pursuit and it needs to be so as to keep citizen interventions creative and disruptive.

Clearing the arteries of the health system is undoubtedly extensive and overwhelming, not just in KP but across the country. If the Sehat Ka Insaf initiative proves anything, it is the enormity of the task at hand. It provides an estimate of the ideal number of staff required for primary healthcare to take some shape. What it does not do is present volunteerism as a model or a solution, because no government can operate on the force of Good Samaritans.

This is not to take credit away from the KP government or their attempt to find solutions. The point merely is to keep expectations from volunteers realistic, and provide mechanisms within governance to hire more staff at the grassroots level. This is neither an issue that is about KP nor it should remain restricted to KP. Punjab and Sindh could both learn a thing or two from KP’s experience when it comes to health and education.

Compare this with the institutional improvements in the bureaucracy, also in KP: more women have entered the bureaucratic machinery and the police after completing their relevant trainings. This in turn has translated into, for example, more women reporting cases of domestic violence and abuse.

In essence, it is engagement with the system and through the system that has allowed young Pakhtun women to contribute greatly to their society. This is permanent change, outlasting the vagaries of who stays in power and who doesn’t.

For Alamgir Mehsud, the desire to fix Karachi may well be genuine and heartfelt. But with a mayor and his city government in waiting, the euphoria associated with Mehsud’s campaign might also dampen soon since volunteerism cannot quite replicate the impact and reach of the State. What Mehsud has reminded us of is the power of collective action and imagination, and for that, we must express our gratitude to him.

It is now time for the Sindh government to stand up.

The writer tweets @ASYusuf

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, February 21st, 2016