PUBLISHED
April 20, 2025
KARACHI:
In the heart of Pakistan’s largest metropolis, Karachi, a silent crisis has taken root – water scarcity. Not a household is unaffected, not a street is safe from it. While residents of cities around the world debate how tackle climate change and how to convert to green energy, Karachiites are struggling to secure access to a basic human necessity: clean, safe running taps in their homes.
Many a resident comes home after a hard day’s work only to find no water in the house to bathe or even freshen up. The situation is not new for Karachiites; it has been an unending misery for decades. Every 10-15 days under the pretext of some maintenance water supply to the city of 25 million people is shutdown.
“This drama of maintenance or broken pipeline started a few months ago and now every month they announce that the city will be out of water supply due to reason or another,” lamented Muhammad Ameen, a resident of Gulshan-e-Iqbal. Although he regularly pays the monthly water bills, he has to purchase water tankers that charge a hefty amount. A family of five, he said, cannot function with an interrupted supply of water.
Karachi is a city of extremes – where there are high-rises, there are also katchi abadis, and where there are booming industries there are also small neighbourhoods. The severe water crisis is the very core of the megalopolis; a menace created by decades of poor urban planning, institutional apathy, and the rise of an unchecked and thriving water tanker mafia.
The city’s water woes are not new. For years, the city has been plagued by a systemic mismatch between demand and supply. Official figures from the Karachi Water and Sewerage Board (KWSB) indicate that the city requires 1,200 million gallons per day (MGD) to meet its domestic, commercial, and industrial needs. However, the actual supply hovers between 500 to 550 MGD, resulting in a deficit of over 650 MGD a figure that continues to grow each year. “The demand and supply are nowhere near an ideal situation, because out of the 550 million gallons that the city receives we only get 18 million gallons which is hardly 3-4 per cent,” said Syed Sardar Shah who is in charge of the hydrant cell at KWSB.
“The city has outgrown its infrastructure. What we have today is a 1960s supply system attempting to serve a 21st-century megacity,” said Engineer Asim Rehman*, a former consultant with KWSB. “The pipelines are leaking, hydrants are broken, and illegal connections are everywhere.”
The majority of Karachi’s water comes from Keenjhar Lake (via the Indus River), contributing around 600 MGD, while Hub Dam supplies about 100 MGD, although this figure fluctuates depending on rainfall and drought cycles. Water loss due to leakages, theft, and outdated infrastructure stands at an alarming 30–40%, according to KWSB estimates.
Water war
Karachi’s water crisis is not just about scarcity; it’s about inequality. In affluent areas like DHA, Clifton, PECHS, and KDA, water flows relatively regularly, albeit supplemented by tankers. In contrast, lower-income areas such as Orangi Town, Lyari, Korangi, Surjani Town, Landhi, and Baldia often face complete water shutoffs for weeks.
In Machhar Colony, one of the city’s largest slums, families live on just 20–30 litres per day, often sourced from communal storage tanks or bought at inflated prices. In some cases, children and women walk miles to collect water in plastic containers from tankers or wells many of which are contaminated. “Water doesn’t come to us, we have to chase it,” says Shazia Bibi, a resident of Orangi Town. “We line up for hours when we hear a tanker might arrive and sometimes we pay 100 rupees for a bucket. Most of all, we have to use water like gold. ”
The rise of the tanker mafia
The water supply shortfall has created fertile ground for a parallel water economy, run by a sophisticated network known locally as the tanker mafia. This mafia is not merely a group of opportunistic drivers it is a well-oiled syndicate comprising tanker owners, operators, political liaisons, and insiders within the KWSB.
According to a 2023 audit report by the Sindh Local Government Department, Karachi has 15 legal hydrants, but investigations reveal over 190 illegal hydrants operate with the system across the city. These unauthorized setups extract water from main lines, often weakening pressure in adjacent neighbourhoods.
According to an agreement done in 2023, which abides tankers to sell water at a certain price, the KWSB hydrant cell regulates it through electronic slips and even gives refunds for any complaints that they receive about extra charges. “This service is specific for legally auctioned hydrants only and we refund people their hard-earned money back if they are charged extra,” said Shah. “For example, last week someone complained and I personally after investigating refunded 2,800 rupees to the citizen via Easypaisa,” he said, showing the receipts and the computerized system in place at the KWSB office. He also shared that the list of legal hydrants, and their mapping is available for the people to be aware of the hydrants business.
Other than those legal hydrants the KWSB, hydrants cell also takes action against the illegally running the businesses, where the tankers are impounded and hydrants are also sealed. “We 100 per cent take action where we penalize them with fines and also impound the vehicles. The maximum penalty we impose is 400,000 rupees fine and 15 days to four months of tankers not allowed to be in the business,” he explained. He added that district management takes action and has the authority to seal hydrants that are running illegally.
A single 1,000-litre tanker meant to be sold between 1,200 rupees and 1,500 rupees is instead sold at 3,000 to 6,000 rupees, depending on the locality. Residents of high-rise apartments in Gulistan-e-Johar and North Nazimabad report spending up to 25,000 per month on water tankers – more than their rent or electricity bills.
In a city where the minimum monthly wage is 32,000 rupees, these rates are simply unaffordable for most. “Usually the tanker that cost 3,500 rupees goes up to 8,000-12,000 rupees when a maintenance shutdown or repair work is announced. When the tanker mafia knows that people will buy water and have no other option,” said Muhammad Saleem, who spends up to 50,000 rupees a month for water tankers. In many cases, the regular tanker drivers call and tell the clients they don’t have water on them but they can get smaller tanks. Smaller tanks are half the size of a regular tank but cost the same. When residents have no other options, they will pay up.
“The mafia is everywhere. They operate with police protection, water board insiders, and even some local politicians,” said the engineer. “It’s a billion-rupee business that thrives on the city’s desperation.”
When the government fails
Despite multiple promises, successive provincial and local governments have failed to resolve the crisis. The long-awaited K-IV Project, launched in 2007 to bring an additional 650 MGD of water from the Indus to Karachi, has been under rubble by political wars, mismanagement, and bureaucratic issues.
Originally scheduled for completion in 2017, the project has seen multiple revisions. As of early 2025, only 30 per cent of the physical infrastructure is reportedly complete, and the expected operational date is now late 2026, as per updates from the Water and Power Development Authority (Wapda).
Meanwhile, short-term crackdowns on illegal hydrants have failed. In most cases, the hydrants are dismantled during media visits, only to be rebuilt days later.
The water crisis has also become a public health emergency. With tanker water rarely filtered and often drawn from stagnant sources, waterborne diseases are spreading rapidly. According to the Sindh Health Department, Karachi saw a 30 per cent rise in diarrhoea cases and a 22 per cent rise in hepatitis A in 2023 alone. Children and the elderly are particularly vulnerable.
“We are treating more cases of water-related illnesses than ever before,” said Dr Sarah Malik, a paediatrician at Civil Hospital. “And it’s heartbreaking because these illnesses are preventable.”
Some local NGOs, like Hisaar Foundation and the Pakistan Council of Research in Water Resources (PCRWR), are promoting water filtration kiosks, borewell maintenance, and awareness campaigns about water conservation.
But as the summer heat intensifies and the tanker wheels roll in and around city more and more, the problem only grows deeper. In a city where water should flow as freely as its huge population, residents remain at the mercy of middlemen and mafias.
The question is not just how much longer Karachi can go on like this, but why its people must keep fighting for a resource that nature provides freely and governments are meant to deliver.
*Name changed to protect source’s identity
