ONE of the simplest things that sets humans apart from animals is embedded in our very name: “humane.” Yet, time and again, events in Pakistan force us to question whether those in power truly understand the meaning of empathy.
Last Sunday in Gulshan-e-Iqbal, Karachi, three-year-old Ibrahim fell into an uncovered manhole near NIPA Chowrangi as he left a department store with his family. What followed were fifteen of the most terrifying hours any parent can imagine, as emergency teams from Rescue 1122 and local volunteers launched a frantic search. Tragically, the child’s body was later recovered nearly a kilometre away in a nearby drain.
The incident sparked widespread outrage. Civil society activists, political figures, and ordinary citizens condemned what they called “criminal negligence” by the city administration. Frustrated protesters blocked roads near NIPA Chowrangi, burned tyres, and demanded urgent action to cover all open manholes across the city. Instead of empathy or understanding, the mayor’s response was cold and defensive.
A video circulating online shows him responding sharply to a journalist asking if the city bore any responsibility: “Focus on the question — not speeches.” While he promised an inquiry, his tone left many shocked. How could the death of a three-year-old not move him to show basic human concern? His dismissive reaction seemed to downplay the seriousness of civic negligence. This tragedy is far from isolated. In Karachi alone, at least 24 similar incidents involving open drains and manholes have happened this year. Who is responsible? And if not that, why are city representatives not trained to at least show the basics of empathy when people face unimaginable loss? Local businesses and the trade community have called for inspections across the city and the installation of stronger, tamper-proof manhole covers to prevent further tragedies. Meanwhile, Ibrahim’s father, still grieving his son, has taken it upon himself to cover the open drains, trying to make sure no other child suffers the same fate.
The contrast is clear. While the city administration responds with defensiveness and detachment, ordinary citizens are left to shoulder the burden of loss and demand change. Karachi’s open-drain tragedies are not just accidents—they are signs of a deeper failure in governance and human responsibility. Until leaders understand what it truly means to be “humane,” preventable tragedies will continue to claim innocent lives. In the end, leadership is about more than authority—it is about empathy, responsibility, and care for the people you serve. And until those at the top remember that simple truth, families like Ibrahim’s will continue to bear the heaviest cost.
—The writer is contributing columnist, based in Islamabad.
