Pakistan’s import-dependent economy was already reeling from the sharp increase in oil prices caused by the war in Ukraine when monsoon floods destroyed millions of acres of farmland last year. Now, with the nation low on food and unable to pay its hefty import bill, working-class Pakistanis must summon every ounce of resilience to feed their families.
As inflation hits a 48-year-high, the price of wheat flour, the most basic of staples in Pakistan, has nearly tripled to around 150 rupees ($0.57) per kilogram. Vendors in Ghulam Mohammad Bhatti Colony, a working-class neighborhood in the center of Lahore, are going door to door buying stale rotis so they can break them down into cheaper flour to sell on the market. Other residents are relying on their community and picking up odd jobs.
Why We Wrote This
Amid Pakistan’s escalating financial crisis, a visit to a working-class neighborhood in Lahore reveals daily struggles and deep wells of resilience.
For some, even the possibility of Pakistan defaulting – a certainty, experts say, if the country can’t secure emergency aid from the International Monetary Fund – isn’t enough to shake their resolve.
“The thing is, when I came into this world I had nothing and when I leave it, I’ll have nothing,” says resident Javed Ahmed Khan, who sells mosquito control equipment. “If you can control your desires, you can get by with just about anything.”
In the center of Lahore – the city affectionately known as the beating heart of Pakistan – lies a working-class neighborhood called the Ghulam Mohammad Bhatti Colony. It is built across what once was a narrow streamlet with water so clean that the community used it to wash their clothes and bathe children.
“It was beautiful,” says resident Ahsan Bhatti. “There were trees on either side of the water and every evening people used to gather around and sit in the shade.”
Things began to change in the 1990s, when gated communities and industrial parks were constructed nearby and their sewage systems started flowing into the water. Today, Ghulam Mohammad Bhatti Colony finds itself encircled by three of the city’s most exclusive neighborhoods – Model Town, the Defence Housing Authority, and the Pak-Arab Housing Scheme – but children here walk barefoot through rundown streets, avoiding the garbage-strewn trench, once a flowing stream, and scavenging food from other rubbish.
Why We Wrote This
Amid Pakistan’s escalating financial crisis, a visit to a working-class neighborhood in Lahore reveals daily struggles and deep wells of resilience.
Income inequality is nothing new in Pakistan, yet it’s being thrown into a harsher spotlight as a severe cost-of-living crisis forces working-class Pakistanis to summon every ounce of resilience. Inflation has reached a 48-year-high with consumer prices up 27.6% compared to the same time last year, and the price of wheat flour, the most basic of staples in Pakistan, has nearly tripled to around 150 rupees ($0.57) per kilogram. Some in Ghulam Mohammad Bhatti Colony are going door to door buying stale rotis so they can break them down into cheaper flour to sell on the market. Others are relying on their community and picking up odd jobs to feed their families.
“You see that mound of gravel there?” says primary school teacher Khurram Javed, pointing in the distance. “After I’m done speaking to you, I’ll go over there and offer to get rid of it at a price. That’s what it’s come down to. Last night, the only way I was able to eat was by cleaning a gutter.”
Mounting crises
Pakistan’s import-dependent economy has suffered a number of external shocks over a short period. The monsoon floods, which destroyed millions of acres of farmland and disrupted agricultural supply chains, came when the economy was already reeling from the sharp increase in oil prices caused by the war in Ukraine. This further exacerbated the country’s chronic balance of payments problem, with the result that Pakistan did not have enough foreign currency in its reserves to pay its hefty import bill.
“Because we didn’t have any dollars coming in, food items that were being imported from abroad would get stuck at our ports,” explains economics and finance commentator Shahbaz Rana, based in Islamabad. “When suppliers within Pakistan saw that there was a commodity shortage in the market, they started hoarding these food items and caused an escalation in price.”
Talks with the International Monetary Fund ended on Feb. 9 without a deal, though officials say they were given a road map for reforms needed to unlock the $1.1 billion in emergency aid. Meanwhile, food and medicine shortages – which come as Pakistan’s security situation deteriorates and power outages wrack cities – have many working-class people pointing fingers at their rulers.
“It’s the army and the government that are robbing this country,” says local barber Mohammad Rizwan. “They’re the ones who have multiple cars worth tens of millions of rupees.”
A United Nations report published in 2021 estimated that perks given to the elite amounted to approximately $17.4 billion.
“What I earn here isn’t enough to feed my family,” Mr. Rizwan adds. “Every month I’m falling further and further in debt, and it’s a good thing that the house I live in belongs to the family or I’m sure I would be out on the street.”
So acute is the crisis affecting the neighborhood that parents are taking children out of schools and putting them to work. Muhammad Afzal Raza, the principal of the local high school, says that many residents cannot even provide their children with pens and paper. “Most parents really do want to send their children to school, but the fact is they simply can’t afford it,” he says.
In spite of these difficulties, however, members of the community refuse to be despondent.
Faith and community
Emmanuel Sardar, one of the community’s Christian residents, says that his faith in God stops him from worrying about the future. “We believe that Allah is the one who is responsible for sustaining us and that he knows best how much to give us.”
Faith is likewise a source of strength for Hina Ansari. “What are our hardships compared to the ones faced by our Prophet in the early days of Islam?” says the mother of five who has lived in the neighborhood for more than 10 years. “Why should we complain about poverty? No! We have to work and get ahead.”
Ms. Ansari supplements her husband’s monthly salary of 20,000 rupees by stitching clothes in their apartment and working as an agent for the local marriage bureau. It was initially a struggle to convince her husband to allow her to work.
“People think that if a woman goes out to work, she’ll meet all sorts of other women who won’t have the right sort of character,” she explains. “But I told him that everything I’d do, I’d do for my children and that I’d never do anything to compromise his honor.”
There is even a sense that financial distress has brought the community closer. “I owe about three months’ rent,” admits resident Emmanuel Masih. “But my landlords are understanding. I believe that when you’re good to people and keep good relations with people, they are also willing to help you out. And whenever we get money, we drop all our other expenses to pay off what we owe in rent.”
For some, even the possibility of Pakistan defaulting – a certainty, experts say, if the country can’t secure the IMF bailout – isn’t enough to shake their resolve.
“The thing is, when I came into this world I had nothing and when I leave it, I’ll have nothing,” says Javed Ahmed Khan, who sells mosquito control equipment. “If you can control your desires, you can get by with just about anything.”