The World of Online Riders in Pakistan

The Land of the Pure Pakistan’s economic hub Karachi is famous as “The City of Lights”. With a pouring population from all over Pakistan and some neighboring countries coming to start a life for a better economic and social life, with dreams of a home, family and career, Karachi warmly welcomes all becoming the third largest city of the World.

The city which “Never Sleeps” horns, tea hotels, crowded streets, hawkers chanting, children playing, bus conductors chanting, religious and social events all around make this city a place “Motherly Heaven” for all ethnicities, languages, religions and sects. With such diversity comes opportunities as well as new employment sectors. Out of which one is “Online Riders” many online applications used for travelling within the city usually used by labors, mediocre business owners and small vendors to transport goods.

While travelling to office I met Javed Baloch, An online rider who lived on the dirt roads of Malir, He wakes up at five in the morning. His mother has asthma, and his two younger brothers goes to school. Javed still has last year’s loan installment outstanding on his bike. “Man, has the price of petrol gone up again?” he asked the pump attendant, while I listen quietly. The pump attendant laughed, “Brother, it’s going up every day now, you guys are the ones making the real sacrifice.” Javed reached into his pocket. He had only six hundred rupees. Four hundred of that went into petrol. He muttered as he started the bike, “Should I bring home rations or fill the bike with Petrol?”. I only listened as he keeps on telling me daily issues he faces, he shared stories of other riders he met on daily basis. I went off to my office giving him the riding fee leaving as a listener for him making his day a bit better.

The next day I bumped into Arshad Khan from Liaquatabad who knew Urdu, Sindhi, a little Pashto and broken English. Karachi taught him languages. He told me philosophically, “To survive in Karachi, you don’t need language, you need tolerance.” Arshad used to deliver food all day long. Sometimes to Defense, sometimes to North Nazimabad, sometimes to Korangi. One day, he went to a rich house to deliver an order. The door opened. The coolness of the AC inside reached the outside. The boy asked while taking the burger, “Bhai, why did it take so long?” Sweat was pouring down Arshad’s forehead. “Sir, the water was standing in the rain. The bike had stopped.” The boy made a face, “Okay, next time be fast.” The door closed. Arshad stood there for a few moments. Then he said softly, “For some people, we are not human beings, we are just an app icon.” While travelling to my office route he told me all the traffic jam timings, what routes to take and where I can find the best hair oil for my lesser hair with growing age, but at least it was not a sales attempt as the one done in Saddar market by any random person who grabs you while seeing your cheeks, hair or teeth.

Usually on job assignments I try travelling from bus and different rides to deeply have a look and understand these issues happening around and while coming back from Islamabad I met Rahim Khan who was a Pashtun from Sohrab Goth. His father was a laborer. Rahim had dropped out of college because running a household was more important, he was a right arm fast bowler and a opening batsman in college famous for his “Helicopter Shot” among the college students. He often worked night shifts because there was more “surge” at night. But nights were not easy in Karachi. One night, three young men stopped him near Bhens Colony. “Pull out the phone!” Rahim folded his hands, “Brother, this is my livelihood.” They snatched away the phone, cash, and bike. The next day, Rahim was online too. On a rented bike. While I asked him about the details he said, “I have to take money to home so my family can have food”.

Just last week I had to travel within the city to meet some new business entrepreneurs and I met Salman Shirazi from Kharadar. He was an educated young man. He had a BA but could not get a job and was well versed in English. He rode a bike during the day and filled government job applications at night. His wife who came from a wealthy family often said, “You work so hard, yet the house is not fully functioning.” Salman remained silent with a grief inside. One night the children insisted, “Abu, We want to eat pizza.” Salman opened a pizza app on his mobile, checked the price, then turned off his mobile. “I will bring it tomorrow.” The children fell asleep. His wife asked softly, “Tomorrow really?” Salman looked at the ceiling and said, “Maybe if the petrol price doesn’t increase.” He told me sudden incidents, road blockade and rain hit his effort to earn badly, he kept cursing different other transport carriers as I listened with a smile.

While I came back home, I thought of all these online bike riders and their daily troubles they have to face, with “Zero” availability of restrooms, safety and shadowed parking. Every week nearly 1200 plus bike riders join these online riding applications to run their homes and basic needs.

In a big and busy city like Karachi, riders of online riding applications have become an important part of Urban life. Despite the intense heat, traffic pressure, low income and uncertain conditions, these “Hardworking Souls” are busy day and night to take people to their destinations. But unfortunately, these same people who provide the facilities often seem to be deprived of social security, adequate income and respect. There is a need to work together to ensure the rights, protection and better employment of these riders, because these silent soldiers of Karachi’s fast-paced life are not just bikes running on the roads but also the hope of thousands of families.

With increasing number of women riders across Pakistan particularly in Karachi, the perception with women riding has changed college, university and working women are moving drastically to Bike Riding. Making life and time management easy for Women.

This is a message for all hardworking riders with a life changing philosophy once told by my teacher Sherani in University as Maxim Gorky mentioned in 1906, “For all, mother dear, for all! The world is ours! The world is for the workers!”.