Express Tribune Editorials 28th August 2026

Hitting steel bottom

What do pedestrian bridges, electric poles, underground cables and vehicle bridges all have in common in Karachi? Apart from being critical urban infrastructure, all of these structures are vandalised by drug-addled citizens looking for a way to source their fix.

When Karachi is called a 'broken' city, sometimes it's meant in a literal manner. Multiple bridges across the town have missing pieces of steel rods, fences and safety nets - all stolen in the dead of the night by the very drug addicts found sleeping around these structures in the daytime. From the Natha Khan bridge at Shahra-e-Faisal to the Jam Sadiq bridge in the Korangi industrial area and now the Teen Hatti bridge as per recent reports – none has been spared. All these structures have been made vulnerable due to vandalism and theft.

It is quite obvious that repair work after theft will only lead to more repair work. The constant surveillance of urban infrastructure just so it is not destroyed or stolen is neither a feasible option nor is it a sustainable one. Until and unless drug addiction is not treated as a major contributing factor to the destruction of bridges that thousands of vehicles rely on daily, the passing public will remain vulnerable to what could very well be a highly deadly incident.

Efforts to repair these bridges are not founded on a significant question: If you deter addicts from stealing, where will they get their money from? It might not be the state's responsibility to provide money for an addict's fix, but it definitely is its responsibility to ensure that they are treated as vulnerable members of society who require sustained rehabilitation followed by employment opportunities and guidance, so they do not relapse. The only plan of action required to fix infrastructure is one that fixes the city's drug problem. But unfortunately, Karachi remains far from this realisation.

Hina Javed case

Hina Javed lived a happy, successful and independent life up until the age of 45. She held a master's degree in mathematics, had a well-paying job and was a career-oriented and ambitious soul, according to her cousin. For her, the price of this contentment came in the form of marriage when her life drastically changed after her wedlock to Faisal Asghar in November 2025. Hina Javed was allegedly murdered in her own house by her husband, only after nine months of her marriage. In this land of the free, many Hina Javeds exist. Some, we do not know about, while others have not yet met their fate.

Only in recent history, Pakistan has accumulated a showcase full of domestic and gender-based violence cases. The legal language, the media frenzy and the outcomes are rarely on the victim's side - even now, the facts of the matter remain unclear. The precise cause of death is still awaiting forensic analysis, and a key witness, a domestic worker named Zeeshan, is reportedly giving conflicting evidence.

The immediate priority right now must be a forensic reconstruction of Hina's final hours, and an understanding of the role of every person connected to this crime. Currently, what this case lacks is certainty. There are suspects, allegations and multiple accounts but what's needed to pin the nail in the coffin is still missing and that uncertainty must not be filled by media speculation.

After countless inhumane cases of murder, it is understandable that the public has had enough and are demanding answers and accountability. But it is equally important that accountability is balanced with an indestructible case. Police must resist the pressure to produce a quick narrative, which is oftentimes what happens when public outrage is high.

The people of this country are right to demand answers, but they also deserve a system that fairly punishes those who consider themselves above the law.

PIMS tragedy

A horrible tragedy has occurred at the heart of the capital city, shaking the nation to its core. Fourteen newborn babies are dead after a fire tore through the Mother and Child Hospital at PIMS. They were among the most helpless patients imaginable, incapable of fleeing or calling for help. Their parents entrusted them to a state hospital. The state failed them.

The tragedy was barely hours old when the machinery of political theatre swung into action. Politicians and officials descended on PIMS to perform their familiar ritual of outrage. Condolences were expressed and promises of the "strictest action" were made. An official was suspended and committees were announced. The spectacle of governance was put on display while grieving families were left to deal with the reality of 14 dead children. Yet none of the hollow promises could answer the most basic question of why these babies were not safe inside a government hospital. This is not a question that can be buried beneath the suspension of one official or the formation of another committee. The bureaucracy cannot be allowed to investigate itself and then present its own version of failure as accountability. The responsibility equally lies with those who were charged with ensuring that PIMS was properly equipped and prepared for an emergency. If those responsibilities were neglected, the people responsible must be identified and punished – no matter how high or low they are in the power corridors.

This tragedy is a damning indictment of a healthcare system in free-fall and a government failing in its most basic responsibility to protect its citizens. And the deterioration is not confined to PIMS. Public hospitals across Pakistan operate under conditions that should embarrass any government claiming to provide healthcare. The devastating loss of life at PIMS serves as an undeniable confirmation of Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi's recent warning that Pakistan's governance system has completely collapsed.

For once, the government should spare the country another performance of outrage followed by administrative amnesia and do its job by ensuring that hospitals are safe and citizens receive the healthcare they are entitled to.