WAITING for the signal to turn green is part of the destiny of Karachiites. As one impatiently waits for the signal to turn green, at least a couple of street children holding window wipers take drivers by surprise.

A seemingly disinterested kid aiming towards the other side of the car swoops in with the swiftness of a hawk at the windscreen. By the time one recovers from the shock, the work’s already halfway done and the vision ahead through the now-foggy screen is already blurred thanks to the city’s wiper squad.

Karachiites react to it in diverse ways; from being outrageously brash to passive. And while some simply choose to ignore and not pay them, others dismiss them in a curt tone and even go hostile. There’s also a faction of people that decides to put up with it and pay them as an act of generosity.

However, there’s a more grave side to the situation. Most of these soldiers in the wiper squads fall in the age bracket of 8-15 years. These children in fact make up the city’s human graffiti — visibly haggard and exhausted. They toil most of the day chasing car after car under the scorching sun, desperate for a few rupees.

The whole wiping and payment process needs to be completed within 30 to 40 seconds between the red and green signals. The amount paid to them in exchange for their services is between Rs5 to Rs20, depending on how pleased or angry the customer is with the quality of work. The average income of members of street squads ranges from Rs500 to Rs800 per day. This is surely a decent contribution from a minor to a poor household and is one of the reasons why they don’t consider leaving the streets.

Unfortunately, in Karachi a number of children are ‘economically active’ because of stinging poverty that drives them to the streets. In fact, many families in poverty-ridden locales of the city are ‘child-headed’, depending solely on their children to eke out a living. The wiper squad only forms a small fraction of children working in Karachi. A large number of them are engaged in a variety of occupations which most of them are not physically capable of doing.

Hence, it can be said that child rights abuses are rife in Karachi. Minors can be spotted collecting garbage door-to-door, their little hands riddled with filth, pushing the heavy cart around for a meagre sum of Rs400 to Rs700 every month. Others work as ‘chotas’ at car shops and garages, their fingers smudged in slime and dirt, and hardened with rough and relentless work.

A number of kids also serve as domestic help in many households. Their job includes doing laundry, mopping the floor, cleaning the house, ironing clothes and serving their employers. One would also find them selling children’s books along the roadside, serving at dhabas and working as porters lugging heavy luggage to make a few bucks.

This is not it. These days, the growing trend is to hire little girls to look after infants and adolescents. They feed them, change them and play with them. It’s ironic to find them busy chaperoning other kids while they can barely take care of themselves. At malls and other public places these little girls can be seen trailing after the kids and feeding them, knowing they can’t have the same food for themselves.

Child labour in Karachi is accepted by society. It’s usually cheaper to employ a child than an adult for the same amount of work. They usually are not aware of their rights and thus can’t speak for themselves if they’re burdened with more work. Hence, it leads to a vicious circle of exploitation without end.

Despite its reputation as a metropolis, Karachi somehow lacks human values. Most people have grown apathetic in their concern towards children working around them. For them, it’s an indispensable reality, something that has been a part of society for too long and hence lost its shock appeal. Hence together — knowingly or unknowingly — everyone is colluding in the exploitation, abuse and persecution of the children, the future of this country.

Published in Dawn, July 3rd, 2016