BY SADAF SULEMAN

14,000 Tonnes a Day — But Where Does It All Go?
Only two-thirds of Karachi’s waste is collected, while the rest burns, festers, or floods into drains and the sea, choking the city’s fragile ecosystem.

KARACHI: On a humid afternoon near Lyari’s Bihar Colony, the stench of rotting garbage mingles with the aroma of street food. Fruit peels, plastic cups, and oily wrappers are scattered across the pavement, while a row of orange municipal bins stands just a few feet away,  half filled but surrounded by heaps of refuse.

In one of Karachi’s oldest and most crowded neighbourhoods, pollution has become an everyday reality  and this time, residents themselves bear much of the blame. The trash scattered outside the bins tells a deeper story about civic neglect, not merely administrative failure.

According to the Sindh Solid Waste Management Board (SSWMB) and the Karachi Climate Action Plan 2025 ([Urban Unit, 2025]), Pakistan’s largest metropolis generates 14,000 to 16,500 tonnes of solid waste daily. Yet, official figures show that only around 10,000 to 12,000 tonnes are collected and transported to landfill sites ([UrduPoint, Feb 2025]).

A World Bank report warns that “only a fraction” of this waste is disposed of in a controlled, sanitary manner ([World Bank, 2023]). The rest ends up dumped in open plots, burned in the streets, or swept into Karachi’s already overburdened drainage system.

In Lyari, a dense, low-income neighbourhood, this imbalance is stark. Despite municipal collection points, garbage piles reappear within hours. “People throw waste beside bins, not inside them,” says sanitation worker Nazeer . “Even after we clean, new waste appears the same evening.”

The impact extends far beyond the visible filth. Open garbage heaps attract flies, mosquitoes, and stray animals, turning residential areas into breeding grounds for disease. Doctors report rising cases of skin infections, diarrhoeal diseases, and respiratory problems, particularly among children living near dumpsites.

“Every week, we see patients suffering from fevers, asthma, and stomach infections linked to unhygienic surroundings,” says Dr. Iqbal, a health specialist, “It’s not only the fault of the system ;  people’s behaviour and lack of awareness also play a major role.”

Environmental experts warn that untreated waste contributes directly to both urban pollution and climate change. Organic waste nearly 50 per cent of Karachi’s total garbage  releases methane, a greenhouse gas 80 times more potent than carbon dioxide, when left to decompose in open air ([Dawn Environment Watch, 2025]).

Meanwhile, the open burning of plastic and mixed refuse, a common practice in Lyari, releases toxic pollutants that worsen air quality and accelerate urban heat island effects, already pushing Karachi’s summer temperatures beyond 42°C in 2025 ([Climate Action Plan, 2025]).

The consequences become devastating during the monsoon season. In August 2025, the city received 163.5 mm of rain in a single week, the heaviest since 2020 ,  flooding major arteries and low-lying neighbourhoods like Lyari, where waste-clogged drains amplified the damage ([The News, Aug 2025]).

“Garbage and plastic waste block the drainage,” explains Rimsha Khan, an environmental researcher. “When it rains, water has nowhere to go. Floodwaters mix with waste, creating toxic runoff that contaminates groundwater and spreads disease.”

The cycle is vicious;  poor waste management worsens flooding, flooding worsens contamination and both fuel public health emergencies. “Solid waste is a silent climate threat,” Rimsha Khan adds. “We’re living in an ecosystem of our own waste.”

While city authorities often bear the brunt of criticism, officials argue that public apathy is a major obstacle. “Our teams collect garbage twice a day in some zones,” says an SSWMB supervisor requesting anonymity. “But residents continue to dump waste into drains or empty plots. No system can keep up with that.”

This pattern of civic neglect , throwing trash from vehicles, burning waste in streets and ignoring segregation rules,  compounds Karachi’s environmental stress. A 2025 Express Tribune editorial warned that “overflowing dumpsters and mixed sewage and garbage in Lyari, Orangi and Korangi pose serious health and environmental hazards.”

Environmental sociologist Dr. Maria Aslam believes that behavioural change must accompany infrastructure reform. “Public neglect is an environmental issue,” she says. “It reflects a psychological distance from the problem , people don’t see waste as a collective responsibility.”

In March 2025, the Sindh government announced an Urban Recycling and Waste-to-Energy Strategy, aiming to recycle 50 per cent of municipal waste and divert organic waste into composting and biogas plants ([Business Recorder, March 2025]).

Three pilot facilities have been launched,  two in Karachi and one in Hyderabad  but implementation in low-income areas remains minimal. “We hear about new projects on TV,” says Ahmed Ali, a shopkeeper in Bihar Colony. “But we’ve never seen anyone from the government come here to teach us how to separate waste.”

Environmental advocates argue that without community participation, even the best infrastructure plans will fail. “Segregation starts at home,” says Memona Shehzad, environmental educator and peace ambassador. “But people need awareness and accountability. It’s not just the government’s duty, it’s ours too.”

Beyond health, the environmental cost is mounting. Methane emissions from untreated waste, toxic smoke from burning garbage, and water contamination all feed into Karachi’s growing climate vulnerability, making heatwaves and floods deadlier each year.

Lyari’s waste problem mirrors Karachi’s larger urban dilemma: a city battling the twin crises of climate change and civic apathy. Without coordinated action between authorities and citizens, the cycle of neglect will persist.

But for Ahmed, a shopkeeper near Bihar Colony, the solution begins closer to home. “The government can’t clean everything,” he says. “If we stop throwing waste on the road, maybe the road will stop throwing it back at us.”

Until that mindset shifts, the bins of Lyari will keep overflowing and the city’s garbage will continue to tell the story of both a warming planet and a society that has learned to live with its own neglect.

“If we can find the time to throw it on the street,” says sanitation worker Rashid Ali with a tired smile, “we can take one more step and throw it in the bin.”