KARACHI: It is believed that how well a city functions can be gauged by the way its public transport system works. If it provides comfort to citizens in their daily routines, the city is generally deemed civilised. London is a good example. Despite being a bustling metropolis with its population getting increased by the day, the city’s buses and its underground railway keep the everyday commuting for passengers nice and smooth.

It is difficult to know how much Karachi has demographically expanded in the 21st century. The buzz about the subject is that it’s crossed the 30-million mark. The last conducted census, however, shows a much smaller figure. The fact remains, Karachi has become such a large shehr that managing it now seems to require some drastic out-of-the-box solutions.

In that context, the introduction of the Peoples Bus Service (PBS), which includes Red, Pink and Electric Buses, a few years ago by the Pakistan Peoples Party government in Sindh came as a pleasant surprise. They are a far cry from the usual rickety omnibuses that ran on city roads — and many still do — for decades. The Red Bus, on the other hand, is spacious, with a reasonable big compartment for women. It also has special seats for people with disabilities.

One has used the bus once or twice, but for the last couple of weeks, one has been travelling by it on a regular basis. There’s much to praise here. The conductors are never brusque or flippant; they make sure that every passenger has bought tickets, ranging from Rs80 to Rs120 depending on the distance. The drivers are fine, too. Usually they drive carefully, unless they’re in a hurry to get something or are stuck in traffic which can irritate them.

But then there are things that make one realise one is still in the Third World. In the middle of the journey, normally after one-thirds of the distance covered from the first bus station or terminal, a young man with an imposing attitude hops on to the bus asking passengers to ‘show’ their tickets. That man is called the ‘ticket-checker’. His duty, apparently, is to make sure there is no ‘corruption’ taking place on the big red vehicle. It means that no passenger travels without a ticket, and if s/he doesn’t have it, the conductor is looked at with a critical eye (and is later going to write a report on his findings).

The ticket-checker has the demeanour of a law-enforcer. When someone asked one such man what about those who got off the bus before he got on to it (who’s going to check their tickets?), the reply was: there’s camera installed in the bus. One understands the importance of supervision, especially the kind of society we are where people are fond of taking free rides. But then the ticket-checker should be there from start to finish.

Then there are instructions written on the inner sides of the bus, in Urdu and English. In English, it’s written ‘for complains and feedback call’… Complain is a verb. But that’s a minor thing. Call it nit-picking. Everyone, including journalists, makes such mistakes all the time.

The air-conditioning on the bus is generally fine. Given the dug-up nature of many roads in Karachi— and one doesn’t know when work on the excavated roads is going to complete and who’s responsible for it — traffic jams have become a regular feature of Karachi life. If the bus is brimming with people, oftentimes the AC doesn’t work as efficiently as it is supposed to. With the summer season around the corner, the authorities must ensure that the air-conditioning on these Red Buses is in fine condition.

Published in Dawn, April 6th, 2025