Every morning, thousands of sanitary workers rise before dawn to descend into manholes and gutters across Pakistan. They are the unseen, underpaid custodians of public hygiene who ensure our cities stay clean, roads unclogged, and drains flowing. Yet while we sleep in comfort, their lives dangle by a fragile thread. With every passing day, their work becomes a wager between duty and death.
Recently, three sanitary workers in Karachi lost their lives due to toxic gas suffocation while cleaning an underground drainage line. They went down without oxygen cylinders, safety kits, or proper training — and never came back alive. Their deaths were settled with ₨800,000, valuing each life at barely ₨275,000. It is incomprehensible how a father, husband, or son can be reduced to such a small number. This is not mere negligence; it is a moral failure. This tragedy is not an isolated incident. Similar deaths have occurred across Sindh, Punjab, and Balochistan — including a widely reported case in Umerkot, Sindh — yet no meaningful systemic reform has followed. Each time, the story ends the same way: a grieving family, a token settlement, and forgotten promises by apathetic municipal authorities.
Most of these workers are not even government employees. They are hired through third-party contractors, caught in a web of political patronage and middlemen. The original employee on the government payroll rarely works; he sublets the job to a desperate labourer for a fraction of the salary. This chain of exploitation leaves the actual worker without medical insurance, legal protection, or fair pay.
Earning as little as Rs. 400-800 per day, these men — and sometimes women — clean gutters barehanded, without gloves, masks, or protective suits. They have no training, no safety equipment, and no backup plan. A single mistake or gas leak can take their life in seconds. In most cases, there is no ambulance or rescue team; their co-workers — equally untrained — are forced to pull the body out, risking their own lives. Behind every such death stands a broken family: a mother waiting for her son, a wife holding her child, an empty chair that will never be filled again. These families not only lose their loved ones but their only source of income. There is no pension, no job compensation, no education for their children. A single accident plunges them into poverty, despair, and trauma.
The silence of the government is deafening. Municipal committees and local authorities continue to ignore these recurring deaths. After every tragedy, inquiries are announced, committees are formed — and nothing changes. Supervisors pressure workers to “just get the job done” or lose employment. This forced risk-taking is nothing short of exploitation.
The National Lobbying Delegation (NLD) has been actively campaigning for the rights of minorities and marginalised workers — especially sanitary workers — demanding legal recognition, safety inclusion, and enforcement of labour protection laws. But meaningful change will only come when the government acts.
At present, no clear accountability framework exists. When a worker dies, the blame dissolves into bureaucracy — between contractors, municipal officers, and supervisors. Labour laws remain ink on paper. On-site, there are no rescue teams, no oxygen cylinders, no technical support. A simple precaution, like providing oxygen at deep blockage sites, could save lives. Each major drainage zone should have at least three or four oxygen cylinders as part of its safety kit. This is not a luxury; it is a necessity.
We can learn from other countries. India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka once faced similar challenges but reduced such deaths through legal reforms. India banned manual scavenging, introduced mechanical cleaning equipment, and made it illegal for any worker to enter a manhole without protective gear and oxygen supply. In developed countries like Japan, South Korea, and the UK, robotics and automation have replaced manual sewer cleaning altogether. If they can do it, why can’t we?
Pakistan’s municipal committees must adopt mechanised cleaning systems, provide insurance coverage, and establish emergency response teams in every district. The International Labour Organisation clearly defines safety as a universal right. Ignoring these standards is both unethical and unlawful.
Officials easily sign off on compensation files, but have they ever faced a widow whose husband suffocated in a gutter? Have they ever answered a child asking why his father never came home? These are the unheard cries of injustice buried under bureaucratic apathy.
For the safety and dignity of sanitary workers, urgent reforms are needed:
Legal Recognition and Accountability: Every sanitation worker must be officially registered, and clear responsibility fixed for each death or injury. Mandatory Safety Equipment: No one should enter a manhole without oxygen cylinders, masks, gloves, helmets, and gas detectors. Specialised Task Forces: Trained rescue teams with proper equipment should handle high-risk operations. Insurance and Compensation: A minimum insurance cover of Rs. 3-4 million should be mandatory, alongside education support and stipends for families. Direct Hiring and Training: Eliminate middlemen and provide regular safety drills and equipment handling sessions. Mechanised Cleaning: Transition from manual to machine-based cleaning with federal support for equipment procurement.
Sindh Assembly Deputy Speaker Mr Naveed Anthony has expressed solidarity with sanitary workers and pledged to push for their safety, dignity, and rightful recognition. But words must now turn into action.
It is time to say no more deaths in gutters. Every life matters. Every worker deserves safety, dignity, and respect. Their hands may clean our filth, but their courage should cleanse our conscience.
In the recent Karachi tragedy, one of the victims leaves behind a 14-year-old boy, Raza Khursheed Maseeh — the last surviving member of his family. His future should be the responsibility of the state. The government must ensure that children like Raza live not in fear or deprivation, but with dignity, safety, and hope.
Shewa Ram Suthar
The writer is based in Umerkot. He has more than 14 years of experience in the development sector. He can be reached at [email protected].
