Who Pays the Heat Bill: Karachi's Power Failure and the Uneven Heat Geography of a Megacity

In Baba Bhit Island in Karachi, there is no electricity for 18 hours a day. In Ajmer Nagri, the supply is cut every other day. In North Karachi, Pahar Ganj, and Lyari, there are prolonged load-shedding spells of 10 to 14 hours. And where the power does exist, 62 to 70 percent of the population lives in homes roofed with galvanised or steel sheets, where air does not enter, and where the electricity needed for a fan or an air conditioner is the most uncertain thing of all.

I have spent many years writing about the scenes beyond the pitch, where the real story is not the scoreline but the daily life of people. Reading this Karachi report, I felt it described something like a football match: the field heats up in the first half, the crowd begins to break in the second, and the referee has not yet blown the whistle.

Hook: The Number Everyone Quotes Is the Weakest

Over the past 15 years, Karachi's built-up area has grown by 32 percent. This figure comes from satellite land-use analysis by SUPARCO, Pakistan's national space agency. But the most eye-catching number in the report is that green cover has declined by 40 percent. And the urban planner who supplied that 40 percent figure, M Toheed, himself conceded that it requires verification.

When I read reports beyond the pitch, I first look at which number belongs to an institution and which belongs to an expert's estimate. Here, the built-up growth figure is institutional. But the green-cover decline is an estimate, and it is the most quoted. This is the trap where the story runs faster than the data.

Context: The Triangle of Heat Island, Climate, and Power

Karachi is a coastal megacity. The city's temperature is higher than the surrounding countryside because concrete, brick, and stone absorb daytime heat and release it at night. With fewer trees, cooling through evapotranspiration has also declined. The report states that the combination of heat and humidity limits the body's ability to regulate temperature. In other words, it is not just temperature but humidity that is lethal here.

On top of this geographic reality sits the power failure. The name of Karachi's distribution company is not written directly in the report; it is only called the distribution company. But the scale of load-shedding is described by naming specific areas. Eighteen hours in Baba Bhit Island, alternate-day cuts in Ajmer Nagri, 10 to 14 hours in North Karachi and Lyari.

And here is the real problem: without electricity, fans stop, water pumps stop, cooling machines stop. That is, the very technology that is the only defence against heat disappears exactly when it is most needed. This correlated failure is why Karachi cannot be understood by temperature numbers alone.

The report's central claim is that climate-driven costs are distributed unequally. Those with lower incomes bear a higher heat bill at home. Several facts support this claim.

First, 62 to 70 percent of the city's population lives in informal settlements. This figure is an estimate, with no survey cited, and the band is 8 percentage points wide. Still, as a directional indicator, it matters.

Second, the type of housing. Galvanised or steel roofs trap heat, and airflow is poor. In dense settlements, homes are packed against each other, so cross-ventilation is nearly impossible.

Third, the cost of cooling. Those who have electricity face rising bills for ACs or fans. Those who do not are forced to work in the heat, productivity falls, and income falls. The report states that labour productivity loss and rising cooling costs are occurring together.

Fourth, solar mitigation is limited. Solar panel use in the city is around 10 percent, and this is an estimate. People living in rented homes cannot install panels on the roof because the roof is not theirs. Here lies a deep socio-economic fracture: those who want to escape the heat cannot afford the means, and for those who can afford it, the power failure is less lethal.

I have spent many years writing stories beyond sport, where a number is actually a human life. Here, the 40 percent decline in green cover is not an abstract environmental indicator; it is the absence of those trees that gave shade, trapped dust, and cooled the air.

Contrarian Angle: The Side Everyone Avoids

Everyone says the heat is rising, greenery is falling, and there is no electricity. These are true. But the most important fact in the report is perhaps the least discussed: damage begins before the official heatwave declaration.

This means the warning system lags behind actual harm. When people are falling ill and going to hospital, a heatwave has not yet been officially declared. As a result, rescue, cooling centres, and emergency assistance all start late.

Another overlooked angle is that there is no dedicated heat officer. The report states directly that other cities have appointed heat officers, but Karachi has not. This is a small administrative decision, but its impact is huge. Because heat management is an interdepartmental task: land use, water, drainage, electricity, health, all departments must work together. But if there is no coordinator, each department can avoid its own responsibility.

Here I see a deep parallel. In a football team, if there is a coach but defence, midfield, and attack are under separate owners, and no one takes responsibility for the overall result, the team will lose. Karachi's heat management is exactly such a team, where each department has a different owner, but no one owns the overall outcome.

Another point: there is a Heat Wave Management Plan from 2026, but the report alleges that the electricity distribution company is not adequately observing its obligations under that plan. Notably, no accused individual is named, no regulator is named, no penalty is mentioned. That is, the rule exists, but there is no enforcement mechanism. This is a structural weakness.

SUPARCO provides satellite data and issues warnings. But it has no regulatory power over land use, drainage, or electricity distribution. It has diagnostic capacity but no corrective capacity.

Takeaway: The Question That Will Return Next Monsoon

The report's biggest weakness is that not a single affected resident is directly quoted. All social claims come from one academic. M Toheed is a careful researcher; he himself expressed doubt about the 40 percent figure. But when a report needs multiple voices, one voice is saying everything.

I write for the auntie in the third row who knows the offside rule by heart. In the same way, the voice of the mother in Baba Bhit Island, sitting in the heat with her child and no electricity for 18 hours, also needs to be heard. Without her voice, the report is incomplete.

The city is growing at about 1.9 percent per year. This rate looks harmless year by year, but across a planning cycle it is transformative. Grid stress is not easing, informal settlements are not shrinking, and heat is rising. So this story is not a matter of one news cycle; it will return every pre-monsoon.

The question is: will Karachi appoint a heat officer before the next heatwave, or wait for the next mass-casualty event? History says the 2026 plan was written after 2026. Will that history repeat itself, or will the city prepare in advance this time?