FOR decades, the Sindh High Court in Karachi exercised jurisdiction over civil suits involving high-value claims, with the exact monetary threshold — most recently set at over Rs6.5 crore (Rs65 million) — varying from time to time. The logic behind this was simple: cases involving higher monetary stakes and complex questions of law and fact warranted adjudication by senior, more experienced judges. In theory, this framework ensured better justice in matters that were complicated. But in practice, the system became riddled with inefficiencies, misuse and judicial gridlock.
It is no surprise, then, that the Sindh Assembly eventually enacted the Sindh Civil Courts (Amendment) Act, 2025, which ended the high court’s jurisdiction to hear such civil suits in Karachi and transferred all pending cases — estimated between 25,000 to 30,000 — to the district courts. What is surprising, though, is how abruptly this transition was carried out, with seemingly little consideration for infrastructure, personnel, or preparedness.
Let’s be clear: reform was overdue. But not in this manner.
For years, the pecuniary threshold system was an invitation to rampant forum shopping. Parties would inflate or deflate the value of their claims depending on which court they preferred. Some exaggerated their valuations just to bring matters within the high court’s jurisdiction, often to seek interim relief such as injunctions or stays. Others downplayed their claims to ensure quicker resolution in the subordinate courts. This tactic distorted the judicial process and undermined the integrity of case filings.
Simultaneously, the high court, which was overwhelmed by the volume of cases and had limited judicial resources, became a bottleneck. Civil suits could take over a decade to reach a conclusion, if at all. During this time, the practice of seeking interim relief became an end in itself. Litigants would secure interim orders and then delay proceedings indefinitely, often pressuring the opposing party to surrender or settle. Justice, in many cases, was effectively deferred or even denied.
The move to revamp the system through the Sindh Civil Courts (Amendment) Act, 2025, was needed. But its execution has been reckless.
There was also the issue of evidence. Instead of recording testimony in court, the high court routinely delegated this task to commissions, often comprising practising lawyers with little time to spare. These commissions, hampered by their own professional commitments, took months — sometimes years — to complete tasks that should have taken weeks. Procedural inefficiency became rampant.
Seen in this light, the legislature’s move to revamp the system appears warranted. However, without a doubt, its execution has been reckless.
Abruptly, thousands of complex civil suits have been thrust upon the already burdened district judiciary in Karachi. The infrastructure of the subordinate courts, which are physically cramped, technologically outdated and underfunded, was not expanded to accommodate this tidal wave of litigation. More importantly, the number of judicial officers was not increased, nor were those already serving given the tools, training or transition time necessary to handle the new caseload effectively.
Many of these transferred cases involve high-value commercial disputes and nuanced legal arguments. Yet the judges expected to handle them are being asked to do so with no additional institutional support. They must learn on the job — while already being stretched to their limits.
A more prudent course would have been to apply this legislation prospectively; that is, allow the high court to conclude pending civil suits itself while directing the filing of new civil suits exclusively in the subordinate judiciary. Such a methodical approach would have allowed the district courts the time and space to scale up, improve capacity, and provide their judges with the training necessary to handle complex civil matters. Furthermore, considering that the high court had increased its judicial strength around the time of the enactment of the Sindh Civil Courts (Amendment) Act, 2025, it perhaps would have had the necessary resources to handle the pending cases left before it in any case.
Instead, we now face an abrupt transfer of responsibility — without an apparent transfer of resources, capacity, or time. Judges in the lower courts, already managing a daily deluge of cases, are now burdened with some of the most complex litigation previously handled by their counterparts in the high court.
The concern isn’t merely about volume. It’s also about public perception. In high-stakes cases, where millions are on the line, litigants demand judicial officers who not only deliver justice but are seen to be above reproach. The subordinate judiciary, though full of dedicated and capable individuals, has long battled perceptions of susceptibility to influence, inconsistent decision-making, and, in some cases, corruption. With this influx of sensitive and high-profile litigation, the pressure to perform with integrity, speed, and clarity is greater than ever.
But in this challenge is also an opportunity for the subordinate judiciary to redefine itself not as a lower tier, but as the front line of civil justice. If judicial officers rise to the occasion, applying the law with fairness, precision and resolve, they can hasten the eventual restoration of public confidence in the subordinate courts and prove that quality justice is not limited to the marble halls of the high court.
This will require immense dedication. Judicial officers must adapt quickly by climbing steep learning curves while managing heavier dockets. The state, in turn, must step up and invest in judicial training, expanding court infrastructure and increasing judicial appointments. Without systemic support, even the most committed judges will struggle.
The amendment could still succeed, but only if it is followed by robust institutional reinforcement. For now, the burden has shifted. Whether that burden becomes a crisis or a catalyst will depend on what the judiciary, the legal fraternity, and the state choose to do next.
The writer is a lawyer based in Karachi.
Published in Dawn, June 30th, 2025
