In the shade of an overhead pedestrian bridge on New MA Jinnah Road, supplemented by a makeshift awning, sits cobbler Faizullah who laughs when I interrogate him. I want to learn about why he decided to open up shop at this bridge, which is one of three that connect Jacob Lines to Jut Lines and Lines Area.
Faizullah explains that he picked this place because more pedestrians pass by here. He actually doesn’t live in the abadi, but near Purana Sabzi Mandi.
Shahid, an auto-rickshaw mechanic, jumps into the conversation. He has been working beside Faizullah’s spot from the beginning. “Faizullah and I started working here after the construction of New MA Jinnah Road,” he explains. That was in 2006-7, thirteen years ago.
“I heard that you came here because you are covering the stories of the people of the pedestrian bridge,” Shahid says. “Are you a drama writer?”
I clarify that I am not, but then Faizullah pipes up, “If you are a drama writer, kindly give me an acting chance in your drama.” Faizullah is an Ertugrul fan. The two men go on to praise the Ottoman Empire and curse Pakistani politicians and clerics for a considerable amount of time.
Shahid then invites Yousaf aka David, who appears to be a drug peddler, to the conversation. David lives on the pedestrian bridge and was injured badly when crossing the road last month. But instead of helping the vehicle owner began to beat him. He has recovered somewhat now. “We are just insects for car drivers,” Shahid says.
As we continue chatting, a child named Rayan comes up on his colorful bicycle with his slippers that needed mending. Faizullah says that children from the abadi often get injured in accidents on the road.
This pedestrian bridge is a source of income for Faizullah and Shahid, a home for David and a connection for many of the families that were severed when New MA Jinnah Road cut through their neighbourhood.
Karachi never really had pedestrian bridges until 2001. Today it has a total of 165, most of which were built at a dizzying speed when Mustafa Kamal was mayor for five years.
He cranked out a record-breaking five dozen of them as signal-free corridors became the rage. This was the era of Karachi’s grand love-affair with asphalt when car financing under Pervez Musharraf was made more accessible.
Meet Zahid Iqbal at Essa Nagri pedestrian bridge. He is the king of cornered positions, reigning supreme over his collection of daily use products, from combs to cotton buds, wallets to handkerchiefs.
But Zahid’s journey to the top of the bridge wasn’t an easy one. Once upon a time, he used to sell his wares at weekly bazaars, but paying for a stall was eating into his profit. So, he set his sights on a rent-free spot.
According to engineering department of Karachi Metropolitan Corporation this is roughly the process they follow:
If they decide to go ahead they inform the the Director-General of Technical Services to prepare a PC-I (the first paperwork for projects in a government department). The PC-I covers the name of the project, location, cost and how long it will take to produce.
A team of engineers prepares the PC-I. The team is divided into a hierarchy: a chief engineer, superintendent engineers, executive engineers, assistant executive engineers and sub-engineers.
A junior officer prepares a draft, and sends it to the seniors for review. After the chief engineer approves it, a tender is issued for a contractor to sign up to build the bridge. The design is usually a copy of a previous one designed by any consultant. The department rarely hires a consultant to create a fresh architectural design.
Only 3 of the 164 bridges were built with ramps for wheelchairs. Now, 19 bridges designed for the Green Line project have inclusive features.
Either way, people like Afsar Khan struggle to navigate this urban infrastructure. Afsar is 33 years old and physically challenged. He lives in Malir and relies on the 7-Star Mini Coach which drops him off on the opposite side of Ghareebabad furniture market. Then he needs to cross the Ishaqabad pedestrian bridge on Sir Shah Muhammad Suleman Road to meet his friends.
It takes him 25 minutes to do so.
Afsar used to work as a furniture loader at the market but one day he got into an accident in a loaded Suzuki that left his leg permanently injured.
The bridges across Karachi may have been built in good faith, but there is a fiscal incentive: billboards. The KMC local taxes department refused to divulge details, but often bridges are erected so that billboards can be placed across because otherwise there is a Supreme Court ban on them in the city (that is constantly violated).
The billboards create a tunnel which becomes unsafe for women.
This is why a security guard has been deployed on the Aga Khan Hospital pedestrian bridge on National Stadium Road. He told me that he was assigned duty there for two reasons: women could pass safely and drug peddlers and beggars could be prevented from damaging the structure.
There are three types of material used in the bridges: steel, a mix of steel and concrete and only concrete. Needless to say the steel ones are the most expensive to make, and the most attractive for scrap thieves.
A footpath keeper at Dawood University told me that the cutting and theft of steel rods from the bannisters of the stairs of bridges is not only the work of drug users and beggars. He said there are organised gangs who do this professionally.
Pedestrian bridges are a failure of design. They are made in a city that does not think of people who are on foot. They are made in a city built for cars. The three signal-free corridors along Karachi’s main arteries were built during Mustafa Kamal’s time. This encouraged speed along these routes and that leads to more accidents.
