Unplanned and unregistered mosques are springing up in various parts of the city - some being built owing to sectarian differences, and are fast becoming a source of worry.
By Abdullah Khoso
Khob Nawaz, 45, is not a content man. Every day, along with other residents in his locality of Muhammadi Colony in Keamari, he has to walk long distances to a mosque in a neighbouring area, even though there is one right in his own neighbourhood.
However, the mosque in question – Tayyaba Mosque – is currently under the control of a Pesh Imam, Allah Buksh, and it is because of him that the residents of Muhammadi Colony have refused to offer prayers in their own area.
Buksh's occupation of the mosque was not always a disputed matter. A few years ago, he was asked by one Babu Tanveer, another resident of the community, to lead prayers at the mosque when it was under construction.
But when the people of the area noticed Buksh practising rites different to what they followed, they stopped going to his mosque and instead turned to a mosque in a different neighbourhood.
"It became a problem for the older people of the area in particular," explains Nawaz. "They have very strict beliefs that do not permit them to offer prayers behind someone who belongs to another sect. They now have to walk a long way to get to the other mosque."
Buksh, however, is convinced he should remain in the mosque and continue to preach as he has been for the past two years. He is backed by another Sunni group, but according to Nawaz, the people of this group live in a separate area. "Allah Bukhsh himself lives a good 10 miles away from the mosque," adds Nawaz.
In Karachi, it has been learnt that disputes over who is in control of a mosque stem mainly from two reasons: sectarian differences, as in the case of the Tayyaba mosque, or money. In the latter case, local communities, who have little to do with the issue at hand, end up being the most affected.
"Five years ago, disputes over the possession of mosques in Karachi were very common, and were usually started by land-grabbers, who used the mosque to protect their economic interests," says Muhammad Younis, Coordinator, Urban Resource Centre, an NGO.
This means that often, mosques end up being built where they should not be. As Younis points out, "The allotment of land should be planned, but neither the people nor the government care. People just donate a piece of land and construct a mosque on it regardless of whether that area is suited for it"
To back his claim, Younis cites the example of a mosque in Lyari which is built on a sewerage line. The construction of the mosque has blocked the flow of sewage and filled the area with a stench.
"It is an awful thing, but no one cares," laments Younis. He adds that there are many other mosques in the city that cause traffic jams because they are ill-placed, but no one speak up against it.
"It is such a sensitive issue that no one dares say anything."
Asif Khalid Saif, senior research officer at the Council of Islamic Ideology, agrees that mosques should not be constructed without due approval and planning. "A mosque should be a source of integration in society rather cause of inconvenience for neighbours and civic life," he says.
However, those who are in control of mosques in Karachi claim that not every mosque in the city falls under their jurisdiction. Mosques are the concern of the Auqaf Department, but the department, which deals with just 31 mosques in the city, admits that they do not know exactly how many there are. "We are not concerned about other mosques and their construction, nor do we know where new mosques are being approved or registered for construction," states Muhammad Nusrat Hussain, Administrator Auqaf Department.
Constructing mosques without prior permission may not be legal, but even when the dispute is sectarian in nature, such as with Tayyaba mosque, it is liable to end up in court.
"I have dealt with many cases like this, and I know that in Karachi, some people do not like to go to neighbouring mosques, even if those in charge of those mosques belong to their own sect," says Javed Ahmed, who practises law at civil court.
He does not have to look far to prove his point. "My own uncle believes that people in neighbouring mosques are not Muslims practise an interpretation of Islam that is incorrect," he says.
In 2007, a similar type of civil suit was filed at the Civil Court West, where two parties were battling over the rights to the Jamia Masjid, part of Farooq Azam Trust in Sultanabad. Unlike in the case of the Tayyaba mosque, however, here both parties belonged to the same ideological group, and were locked in controversy over who should receive the rent generated by 17 shops built on land allegedly belonging to the mosque. The Union Council Nazim was dragged into the affair, and ultimately dissolved the committee of the Farooqe Azam Trust, although later the decision was challenged and deemed unlawful.
The dispute surrounding Tayyaba mosque, meanwhile, has been taken to the DDO office Keamari under the section 107 and 117 of the criminal procedure act. The administration at the DDO office considers the issue a sectarian divide and has indicated that the case should proceed quickly, considering the sensitive nature of the dispute. However, no decision has been reached to date.
Published with Kolachi, The News International at http://jang.com.pk/thenews/apr2009-weekly/nos-12-04-2009/kol.htm#3
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Friday, December 5, 2008
Beyond enemy waters
Detained fishermen are languishing for nothing, says Abdullah Khoso
On October 11 2008, seven Indians arrived at Karachi’s ? Airport. The government of Gujrat, India, on behalf of Indian boat owners, had sent these men to recover confiscated boats – the poor Indian fishermen who used them now being in Pakistani jails. The purpose of the delegation was to survey the conditions of the confiscated boats for possible auction. Yet, they also brought with them letters from family members, for their loved ones now behind bars. “I will be looked on with suspicion if we are not successful in meeting with machawara (fishers),” Bharat Modi, a member of the delegate, confessed. “When I was leaving the village for the airport, to travel to Karachi, hundreds of fisherwomen gathered at my home, all wanting me to give messages to their relatives.”
According to Modi, 434 Indian fishermen now languish in Pakistani jails, almost all of them from the small village of Wanak Bara in District Diu of Gujrat, India. “There are mostly women left in the village,” Modi said. “All their men are in Pakistani jails.” And it’s not just the men. The boats they used – some 326 of them – were taken into the possession of Pakistani authorities. Of these, 186 boats have already been auctioned in Pakistani markets. On the other side of the border, a similar syndrome is in effect, though in lesser numbers. Official records list eight Pakistani fishermen in Indian jails, but the unofficial count is 55, said Veligi Masani, the leader of the Indian delegation. Eighty-seven Pakistani boats are also held by the Indian government.
Although the Indian Delegation was denied access to the detained fishermen – they did not have prior authorisation from the Sindh government -- these arrests are nothing new. Since 1987, both Pakistani and Indian authorities – the MSA in Pakistan, and the Coast Guard, Border Security Force, and the Indian Navy in India – have been arresting each other’s fishermen and confiscating their boats in the Arabian Sea. A total of 4,516 Indian fishers, with 729 boars, have been apprehended by Pakistan over the last 20 years, according to a 2008 study by the Pakistan Fisherfolk Forum (PFF), a grassroots organisation that represents fishermen’s rights.
The rationale behind the arrests borders on ludicrous. The coast guards of the two rival nations officially consider the fishermen as spies or smugglers infringing on their sovereign waters. And so when fishermen unintentionally drift into “enemy” waters – due to engine failure or high tides, or because they are unable to find fish closer to home – they are picked up. But without any form of demarcation, it is difficult for fishermen to gauge exactly where the borders actually lie. What’s more, according to PFF, more often than not, fishermen are arrested even when they are within their country’s territorial boundaries. “Fishers usually do not cross borders, but security agencies violate international maritime laws and take fishers from the fishers’ own home waters,” said Gulab Shah, a fisher folk representative in Thatta District. “They bring more fishers for detention just to show their performance,” he added.
Fisher families maintain that illegal profit-making is also at work. On both sides of the border, agencies impound fishing equipment, fish and boats, often worth more than six or seven lakh, and then sell these in the market. In an ironic twist, the money gained from the sales is shared between Indian and Pakistan coast guard authorities.
In one of the more recent detentions, eight Pakistani fishers were captured in August 2008, and are now being held in Bhej Jail, Gujrat. Among those arrested was a 10-year-old boy. Days later, a 13-year-old boy, along with four other fishermen, were detained. On October 31, the Indian Coast Guard seized a Pakistani boat carrying seven crewmembers near Kajhar Creek, within Pakistani territorial limits.
On both sides of border, heart-wrenching stories abound. Many of those detained are the sole breadwinner in their family, yet it sometimes takes years for families to discover what happened to their husbands, brothers and sons. Janat, a resident of Rehri Goth, a coastal village of Karachi, did not know what happened to her husband, Achar, for four years, finally learning of his fate from a letter he sent from prison. Achar was arrested 15 years ago, and remains in an Indian prison today. The verdict, reached in 2006, was narcotics smuggling, Achar wrote in a letter to his wife. It took the Indian justice system 13 years to bring the case to court.
Achar’s mother, Mai Asi, 90, can only pray that she will be able to see Achar and his brother, who was also arrested 15 years ago, again. “One day Allah will send me back my children, she said with tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. “What can I do but pray for their safety and long life?” Mai Asi’s husband died of shock after he learnt of his two sons’ arrests, Janat, Achar’s wife, said.
On May 10 1999, Usman Sacho, Nawaz, Usman Ali and Zaman Khan, all of Karochan, Thatta District, went fishing and did not return. Five years later, in 2004, Usman Sacho’s family received a letter from Usman, telling them that the four men were alive and detained in Sabir Matti Jail in Ahmedabad, Gujrat under charges of smuggling. In his letter, Usman wrote, “We get very little to eat. Even our enemies should not have to stay in such a jail.”
A PFF representative, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said that jail conditions were poor and justice slow or nonexistent for fishers. With no one to pursue or support their cases, the fisher folk are a low priority. And, the representative said, “if anyone tries to approach or help them, he is looked on suspiciously and considered a spy.”
Another representative of PFF admitted that working for the detained fishermen was an onerous task. “Disclosing news about Indian fishers arrested by Pakistani agencies is not a big deal,” he said. “The problem arises when the media publishes news of Pakistani fishers arrested by Indian agencies quoting PFF as a source.” The office’s phones start ringing non-stop with intelligence officers interrogating them over the phone, he said, adding that PFF was threatened to reveal their sources. “Our answer remains the same, we learnt it through the internet and their [the captured men’s] fellow fishers.”
According to PFF, Indian and Pakistani forces have killed18 Pakistani and four Indian fishermen, respectively, over the last 18 years. Yet, there are simple solutions that could put an end to this tragic and unnecessary waste of life. That disenfranchised fishermen should be killed or held for years in prison without charge is a humanitarian atrocity, and more must be done to protect the civil rights of fishing communities, both in India and in Pakistan.
At the very least, a mechanism through which information can be passed in a timely manner to effected families must be put in place. Better, the families should be provided with economic relief. Each country must also improve their management of fisheries within their Economic Exclusive Zone to reduce pressure on fishermen to cross the border in search of a better catch. A bilateral solution must be reached. Published in the Friday Times
On October 11 2008, seven Indians arrived at Karachi’s ? Airport. The government of Gujrat, India, on behalf of Indian boat owners, had sent these men to recover confiscated boats – the poor Indian fishermen who used them now being in Pakistani jails. The purpose of the delegation was to survey the conditions of the confiscated boats for possible auction. Yet, they also brought with them letters from family members, for their loved ones now behind bars. “I will be looked on with suspicion if we are not successful in meeting with machawara (fishers),” Bharat Modi, a member of the delegate, confessed. “When I was leaving the village for the airport, to travel to Karachi, hundreds of fisherwomen gathered at my home, all wanting me to give messages to their relatives.”
According to Modi, 434 Indian fishermen now languish in Pakistani jails, almost all of them from the small village of Wanak Bara in District Diu of Gujrat, India. “There are mostly women left in the village,” Modi said. “All their men are in Pakistani jails.” And it’s not just the men. The boats they used – some 326 of them – were taken into the possession of Pakistani authorities. Of these, 186 boats have already been auctioned in Pakistani markets. On the other side of the border, a similar syndrome is in effect, though in lesser numbers. Official records list eight Pakistani fishermen in Indian jails, but the unofficial count is 55, said Veligi Masani, the leader of the Indian delegation. Eighty-seven Pakistani boats are also held by the Indian government.
Although the Indian Delegation was denied access to the detained fishermen – they did not have prior authorisation from the Sindh government -- these arrests are nothing new. Since 1987, both Pakistani and Indian authorities – the MSA in Pakistan, and the Coast Guard, Border Security Force, and the Indian Navy in India – have been arresting each other’s fishermen and confiscating their boats in the Arabian Sea. A total of 4,516 Indian fishers, with 729 boars, have been apprehended by Pakistan over the last 20 years, according to a 2008 study by the Pakistan Fisherfolk Forum (PFF), a grassroots organisation that represents fishermen’s rights.
The rationale behind the arrests borders on ludicrous. The coast guards of the two rival nations officially consider the fishermen as spies or smugglers infringing on their sovereign waters. And so when fishermen unintentionally drift into “enemy” waters – due to engine failure or high tides, or because they are unable to find fish closer to home – they are picked up. But without any form of demarcation, it is difficult for fishermen to gauge exactly where the borders actually lie. What’s more, according to PFF, more often than not, fishermen are arrested even when they are within their country’s territorial boundaries. “Fishers usually do not cross borders, but security agencies violate international maritime laws and take fishers from the fishers’ own home waters,” said Gulab Shah, a fisher folk representative in Thatta District. “They bring more fishers for detention just to show their performance,” he added.
Fisher families maintain that illegal profit-making is also at work. On both sides of the border, agencies impound fishing equipment, fish and boats, often worth more than six or seven lakh, and then sell these in the market. In an ironic twist, the money gained from the sales is shared between Indian and Pakistan coast guard authorities.
In one of the more recent detentions, eight Pakistani fishers were captured in August 2008, and are now being held in Bhej Jail, Gujrat. Among those arrested was a 10-year-old boy. Days later, a 13-year-old boy, along with four other fishermen, were detained. On October 31, the Indian Coast Guard seized a Pakistani boat carrying seven crewmembers near Kajhar Creek, within Pakistani territorial limits.
On both sides of border, heart-wrenching stories abound. Many of those detained are the sole breadwinner in their family, yet it sometimes takes years for families to discover what happened to their husbands, brothers and sons. Janat, a resident of Rehri Goth, a coastal village of Karachi, did not know what happened to her husband, Achar, for four years, finally learning of his fate from a letter he sent from prison. Achar was arrested 15 years ago, and remains in an Indian prison today. The verdict, reached in 2006, was narcotics smuggling, Achar wrote in a letter to his wife. It took the Indian justice system 13 years to bring the case to court.
Achar’s mother, Mai Asi, 90, can only pray that she will be able to see Achar and his brother, who was also arrested 15 years ago, again. “One day Allah will send me back my children, she said with tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. “What can I do but pray for their safety and long life?” Mai Asi’s husband died of shock after he learnt of his two sons’ arrests, Janat, Achar’s wife, said.
On May 10 1999, Usman Sacho, Nawaz, Usman Ali and Zaman Khan, all of Karochan, Thatta District, went fishing and did not return. Five years later, in 2004, Usman Sacho’s family received a letter from Usman, telling them that the four men were alive and detained in Sabir Matti Jail in Ahmedabad, Gujrat under charges of smuggling. In his letter, Usman wrote, “We get very little to eat. Even our enemies should not have to stay in such a jail.”
A PFF representative, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said that jail conditions were poor and justice slow or nonexistent for fishers. With no one to pursue or support their cases, the fisher folk are a low priority. And, the representative said, “if anyone tries to approach or help them, he is looked on suspiciously and considered a spy.”
Another representative of PFF admitted that working for the detained fishermen was an onerous task. “Disclosing news about Indian fishers arrested by Pakistani agencies is not a big deal,” he said. “The problem arises when the media publishes news of Pakistani fishers arrested by Indian agencies quoting PFF as a source.” The office’s phones start ringing non-stop with intelligence officers interrogating them over the phone, he said, adding that PFF was threatened to reveal their sources. “Our answer remains the same, we learnt it through the internet and their [the captured men’s] fellow fishers.”
According to PFF, Indian and Pakistani forces have killed18 Pakistani and four Indian fishermen, respectively, over the last 18 years. Yet, there are simple solutions that could put an end to this tragic and unnecessary waste of life. That disenfranchised fishermen should be killed or held for years in prison without charge is a humanitarian atrocity, and more must be done to protect the civil rights of fishing communities, both in India and in Pakistan.
At the very least, a mechanism through which information can be passed in a timely manner to effected families must be put in place. Better, the families should be provided with economic relief. Each country must also improve their management of fisheries within their Economic Exclusive Zone to reduce pressure on fishermen to cross the border in search of a better catch. A bilateral solution must be reached. Published in the Friday Times
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Shelter from the storm no longer
As Sindh’s coastal mangroves are denuded, Karachi is becoming increasingly vulnerable to natural disaster, says Abdullah Khoso
Over the last 60 years, Pakistan’s coastal mangrove ecosystem has been slowly but surely destroyed. From its source high in the Himalayas to its mouth at Kotri Barrage, the Indus has been robbed of its water – diverted for agricultural and development purposes, results of a poor national policy that has little regard for environmental protection – and the mangroves of Sindh’s coastal belt have paid the price.
In recent weeks, huge swaths of mangrove forest in the vicinity of Ibrahim Hyderi and Rehri Goath villages, outside Karachi, have been chopped down. “Each day I see big donkey carts loaded with wood pass through the streets unchecked by the forest guard,” says Ustad Mohammad Yousid, a member of the local fishing community there.
Ninety-seven per cent of all mangrove trees in Pakistan grow within 600,000 hectares of the Indus Delta, which begins at Sir Creek in Badin, northwest of Karachi. With no consensual policy on water supply between the provinces, however, water diversions upriver have swirled out of control; and according to International Union for the Conservation of Nature estimates, 27 million acre feet of water is needed if the mangrove forest of the Indus delta, the sixth largest in the world, is to survive. The mangroves are literally dying of thirst. Yet, it is not too late to save them.
Since the late 1950s, it has been the responsibility of the Sindh Forest Department to safeguard the mangroves – yet, it is unclear whether the department is doing its job, and signs point negative. But the department is not entirely at fault. Lacking control of much of the delta and coastal areas, and suffering from a dearth of resources, there is little the department can do without a marked increase in forest guards and the support of new legislation to grant them complete authority over the mangrove forests of the Sindh coast.
This is where the problem begins. At present, large portions of coastal land, home to thick mangrove forests, fall under the jurisdiction of three powerful agencies – the Defense Housing Authority (DHA), the Karachi Port Trust (KPT) and the Land Revenue Department (LRD). Unfortunately for Pakistan, these agencies have made development a priority, to the detriment of the mangroves, and to the environment. And why, one might ask, should anyone outside the odd arborist care? The answer is easy. Without the buffer zone provided by the mangroves, Karachiites and those in surrounding communities are left naked to such natural disasters as tsunamis and cyclones. If we need a precedent, we need only look to New Orleans, in the United States. Hurricane Katrina’s devastating gusts and rains, which destroyed much of the city in 2006, the aftermath of which is still visible today, was due in part to the deforestation of mangroves in the Mississippi Delta.
As our agencies dig Karachi deeper into potential disaster, moreover, the land mafia is in full swing, filling in the sea with solid waste, and then leveling and surrounding it with walls. Take, for instance, the Pakistan Oil Refinery and Korangi Fish Harbour at Ibrahim Hyderi. The City District Government Karachi (CDGK) is performing its role as earth filler, and every day dozens of CDGK trucks haul in the city's solid waste, dumping it into the sea, not only at Ibrahim Hydri but at Juma Goth, Jatt Goth, Chashma Goth and Rehri -- all part of a deliberate effort to fill in and occupy these areas.
This has caused difficulties for, and stoked the concerns of, local communities. Human residences are creeping ever closer to the mangrove clusters, and at some locales, this has lead to thoughtless deforestation for commercial purposes; at others, mangroves are already within boundary walls and are dying for lack of water – which is kept out by those same walls. And it does not stop at increased threats to the environment and to Karachi’s infrastructure. The waste unloaded by CDGK trucks have caused eye diseases, skin conditions, allergies and other health problems among the local populations. The fishermen of the area have suffered in particular; for, with thousands of tonnes of solid and urban waste and industrial chemicals being dumped into the Arabian Sea via rivers and streams every day, fish stocks have plummeted.
When I, together with two other activists from the Pakistan Fisherfolk Forum (PFF), went to investigate the allegations of deforestation at Ibrahim Hyderi in July, we found some 20 axmen at work amidst a mob of mosquitoes. They had been cutting trees for months, they said, adding that they usually began in the morning and continued chopping wood all day, leaving either in the evening or early the next morning for market to sell the lumber. Per cart, they told us, they earn about Rs 1,000-1,500. According to Abdullah Mallah of Rehari Goth village, mangrove deforestation has turned to commercial purposes only recently. Ten years ago, fishermen cut mangroves for fuel and fodder purposes; but now, due to rising unemployment among other factors, others, too, have begun to cut trees, selling them off for profit. Much of the transports of lumber occurs under the cover of darkness, taken to local factories, which process dry wood into fuel for large scale chicken-feed manufacturers and use the wet wood in boat construction.
Although forest guards from the Sindh Forest Department are responsible for stopping such behaviour, residents of Ibrahim Hyderi almost unanimously report that the guard for their area, Ghulam “Gulo” Muhammad, accepts bribes to turn a blind eye to unauthorised cutting. For every cart Gulo lets pass by, he becomes Rs 100 richer. Yet, even if Gulo was as honest as the next man, there would be problems. For one, it is near impossible for one guard to adequately monitor 250,000 acres of mangroves. Deforestation is difficult to detect, moreover, as the felling of mangrove is done from within the groves, rather than on the periphery.
We met with Gulo in a café in Ibrahim Hyderi, who then accompanied us back to PFF’s office. He told us he had “retired” from the Forestry Department some 10 years ago – the guard now in charge is Maqbool Baloch – but remained on the department’s payroll. Unfortunately, at the first sign of critical questioning, Gulo ceased being cooperative and left the premises
Environmental protection agencies are doing absolutely nothing to halt this rape of our natural resources. Without the action of environmentalists to raise awareness for the plight of our mangroves, there may soon be very few of them left. Source The Friday Times.
Over the last 60 years, Pakistan’s coastal mangrove ecosystem has been slowly but surely destroyed. From its source high in the Himalayas to its mouth at Kotri Barrage, the Indus has been robbed of its water – diverted for agricultural and development purposes, results of a poor national policy that has little regard for environmental protection – and the mangroves of Sindh’s coastal belt have paid the price.
In recent weeks, huge swaths of mangrove forest in the vicinity of Ibrahim Hyderi and Rehri Goath villages, outside Karachi, have been chopped down. “Each day I see big donkey carts loaded with wood pass through the streets unchecked by the forest guard,” says Ustad Mohammad Yousid, a member of the local fishing community there.
Ninety-seven per cent of all mangrove trees in Pakistan grow within 600,000 hectares of the Indus Delta, which begins at Sir Creek in Badin, northwest of Karachi. With no consensual policy on water supply between the provinces, however, water diversions upriver have swirled out of control; and according to International Union for the Conservation of Nature estimates, 27 million acre feet of water is needed if the mangrove forest of the Indus delta, the sixth largest in the world, is to survive. The mangroves are literally dying of thirst. Yet, it is not too late to save them.
Since the late 1950s, it has been the responsibility of the Sindh Forest Department to safeguard the mangroves – yet, it is unclear whether the department is doing its job, and signs point negative. But the department is not entirely at fault. Lacking control of much of the delta and coastal areas, and suffering from a dearth of resources, there is little the department can do without a marked increase in forest guards and the support of new legislation to grant them complete authority over the mangrove forests of the Sindh coast.
This is where the problem begins. At present, large portions of coastal land, home to thick mangrove forests, fall under the jurisdiction of three powerful agencies – the Defense Housing Authority (DHA), the Karachi Port Trust (KPT) and the Land Revenue Department (LRD). Unfortunately for Pakistan, these agencies have made development a priority, to the detriment of the mangroves, and to the environment. And why, one might ask, should anyone outside the odd arborist care? The answer is easy. Without the buffer zone provided by the mangroves, Karachiites and those in surrounding communities are left naked to such natural disasters as tsunamis and cyclones. If we need a precedent, we need only look to New Orleans, in the United States. Hurricane Katrina’s devastating gusts and rains, which destroyed much of the city in 2006, the aftermath of which is still visible today, was due in part to the deforestation of mangroves in the Mississippi Delta.
As our agencies dig Karachi deeper into potential disaster, moreover, the land mafia is in full swing, filling in the sea with solid waste, and then leveling and surrounding it with walls. Take, for instance, the Pakistan Oil Refinery and Korangi Fish Harbour at Ibrahim Hyderi. The City District Government Karachi (CDGK) is performing its role as earth filler, and every day dozens of CDGK trucks haul in the city's solid waste, dumping it into the sea, not only at Ibrahim Hydri but at Juma Goth, Jatt Goth, Chashma Goth and Rehri -- all part of a deliberate effort to fill in and occupy these areas.
This has caused difficulties for, and stoked the concerns of, local communities. Human residences are creeping ever closer to the mangrove clusters, and at some locales, this has lead to thoughtless deforestation for commercial purposes; at others, mangroves are already within boundary walls and are dying for lack of water – which is kept out by those same walls. And it does not stop at increased threats to the environment and to Karachi’s infrastructure. The waste unloaded by CDGK trucks have caused eye diseases, skin conditions, allergies and other health problems among the local populations. The fishermen of the area have suffered in particular; for, with thousands of tonnes of solid and urban waste and industrial chemicals being dumped into the Arabian Sea via rivers and streams every day, fish stocks have plummeted.
When I, together with two other activists from the Pakistan Fisherfolk Forum (PFF), went to investigate the allegations of deforestation at Ibrahim Hyderi in July, we found some 20 axmen at work amidst a mob of mosquitoes. They had been cutting trees for months, they said, adding that they usually began in the morning and continued chopping wood all day, leaving either in the evening or early the next morning for market to sell the lumber. Per cart, they told us, they earn about Rs 1,000-1,500. According to Abdullah Mallah of Rehari Goth village, mangrove deforestation has turned to commercial purposes only recently. Ten years ago, fishermen cut mangroves for fuel and fodder purposes; but now, due to rising unemployment among other factors, others, too, have begun to cut trees, selling them off for profit. Much of the transports of lumber occurs under the cover of darkness, taken to local factories, which process dry wood into fuel for large scale chicken-feed manufacturers and use the wet wood in boat construction.
Although forest guards from the Sindh Forest Department are responsible for stopping such behaviour, residents of Ibrahim Hyderi almost unanimously report that the guard for their area, Ghulam “Gulo” Muhammad, accepts bribes to turn a blind eye to unauthorised cutting. For every cart Gulo lets pass by, he becomes Rs 100 richer. Yet, even if Gulo was as honest as the next man, there would be problems. For one, it is near impossible for one guard to adequately monitor 250,000 acres of mangroves. Deforestation is difficult to detect, moreover, as the felling of mangrove is done from within the groves, rather than on the periphery.
We met with Gulo in a café in Ibrahim Hyderi, who then accompanied us back to PFF’s office. He told us he had “retired” from the Forestry Department some 10 years ago – the guard now in charge is Maqbool Baloch – but remained on the department’s payroll. Unfortunately, at the first sign of critical questioning, Gulo ceased being cooperative and left the premises
Environmental protection agencies are doing absolutely nothing to halt this rape of our natural resources. Without the action of environmentalists to raise awareness for the plight of our mangroves, there may soon be very few of them left. Source The Friday Times.
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