KARACHI: Politically defined as the growth engine of a society, the middle class keeps the wheels of an economy moving. It is quite a job applying standard definitions to things in Pakistan because they tend to have dimensions of their very own, but the urban middle class is certainly an exception for it fits the bill perfectly. Encumbered by overheads that are not part of the existence of the lower classes, but fired with the zeal to move to the next tier, the Pakistani middle class is bending its back to make things happen.
Zahid Hussain, an engineer by profession, heads a household of five that has three school-going children. In his late 30s, he has a job that is worth around Rs25,000 per month, but ends up spending at least 20 per cent in excess. The breakup is quite simple: 30-35 per cent on groceries etc., 30 per cent on education, 15 per cent on utilities and 10 per cent on transport which includes his daily commute to office by public buses as well as the rare use of his car when the family moves out together.
Luckily, he does not have to pay house rent because he uses his parental home since their death and also because all his siblings have already migrated to greener pastures abroad. But he still has to do three tuitions in the evenings that increase his monthly income by Rs10,000. This represents as much as 40 per cent of his gross income without which he just can’t imagine pulling along.
The dynamics of the household headed by Bashir Mirza are different. It has four individuals of whom two are bread-earners. Having turned 30 last month, Bashir and his wife live with his parents. Working at the middle-management tier in the sales department of a local firm, he earns around Rs45,000 per month. Just four components consume almost his entire earning. He pays Rs8,000 in rent for his two-bed apartment in Gulshan-e-Iqbal. His car lease takes away Rs9,000, but it is a necessity he can’t do without. The office pays for petrol and maintenance though. Rs10,000 are spent on putting food on the table, and Rs5-8,000 are healthcare expenses of his ageing parents. With the rest of the money, he is doing his MBA at a private institution to improve his financial position before children start appearing in the equation.
With the salary consumed and his evenings dedicated mostly to studies, it is left to his wife Sabina to take care of not just the utility bills, but everything else that makes a house a household. A graduate, she teaches at a nearby school that injects about 20 per cent of the total family income. She is also planning to do her Masters, even if as an external candidate, to improve her long-term career prospects.
The case of Zaheer Masood’s household brings to surface the intensity of the middle class enthusiasm to improve lifestyle once the basics have been taken care of. Pushing 50 and with a mass of grey on his head, he is an architect by profession who earns around Rs70,000 per month. He owns the three-bedroom North Nazimabad apartment where he leads a comfortable life with his wife and three kids. Yet he falls short by about 30 per cent of his actual requirement.
The breakup of his domestic budget is interesting. As much as 50 per cent is spent on food items, basically because the family visits some supermarket in the city every weekend and a lot of stuff is bought off the shelves by the children. These visits are invariably followed by dine-out sessions that convert into 10 per cent of the monthly expenses. Another 35 per cent goes on education because his eldest child is studying at an expensive university. His car lease takes away 17 per cent, and the rest is spent on utilities, petrol, housemaid, maintenance and such other things.
Zaheer makes a valid point when he insists on counting all the one-off expenses that he makes through the year as well. For instance, by his own account, expenses related to Ramzan and the two Eids add up to equal his one month’s salary. Averaging it out for the monthly scale, one has to add another eight per cent to the breakup. In all, he spends over Rs100,000 to keep his household the way he wants. To be able to do that, he teaches at a private university two evenings per week and does a bit of moonshining by way of taking up small-scale consultancy assignments.
The common thread running through all the three households, which is nothing but a random sampling of what it is like on the mass scale, is the belief that whatever they need to improve their lives, they have to do it themselves. The system – call it the government, if you please – will not come to their assistance. In fact, they would be grateful if it simply stops putting hindrances in their way.

































