Running a government without empathy for the sufferings of the people is an injustice.
- The time has come to put an end to the builder mafia’s theatrical drama of unwanted guests. They must be reined in, controlled, and held accountable.
By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden
When we were in fifth grade at the Main Primary School in Moro, a stage play was performed by us students titled “The Unwanted Guest”.
At that time, the SDM (Sub-Divisional Magistrate) of Moro was Mr. Badruddin Ujjan, who was probably the chief guest on that occasion.
The play revolved around a husband and wife and a few guests. The story was that the couple had become annoyed by frequent, uninvited guests who would show up at odd times. Someone or the other would always drop by, disturbing their peace. To deal with this, the couple came up with a plan: whenever any unwanted guest came, they would pretend to have a fight in front of them. This would make the guest uncomfortable, and they would leave soon after. This strategy worked well for them — whenever such guests came, they fought, and the guests would quickly depart. The trick served its purpose.
That was just a play. But today in Sindh, the drama being played in real life is no less absurd or troubling, especially in the real estate and property business. It seems many builders and developers have taken the concept of that old school play and applied it to their business models, causing the dreams of people and their children to shatter.
They advertise new housing schemes, announcing that plots, flats, or bungalows are available in installments. Tempted by these schemes, people scrape together savings or borrow money to book something with the hope that it will secure their children’s future. But the painful journey that begins with those dreams rarely ends happily.
This vicious cycle runs from booking to registration, where sometimes even the partners in the project — who could be a husband and wife, brothers, or other co-investors — start to fight publicly, or act out disagreements like in the play, just to delay or complicate matters.
Legal battles begin. Some people end up in jail. Others start hurling insults at each other on social media. Work on the project halts. And when work eventually resumes, costs have skyrocketed, and the burden falls back on the poor person who initially booked a unit in good faith.
There are countless additional charges — for electricity, gas, land record officers (tapedar), revenue officers (mukhtiarkar), assistant commissioners, registrar offices, and vague so-called “development charges.”
The innocent buyer, caught in this whole theatrical mess, feels helpless — wondering: “What have I gotten myself into? I just wanted a clean, transparent booking process. I planned to pay my installments and move in on time.”
But the joy and excitement of owning a flat or bungalow fade away, replaced by anxiety, depression, and endless waiting. People start to wonder if they’ll ever escape this mess.
One fails to understand: how can bookings even begin without proper approvals? Why aren’t there institutions in place that verify these schemes before they’re advertised? There should be authorities to legally inspect whether a given real estate scheme is legitimate — whether the land is dispute-free, whether permissions exist, whether the timeline promised is realistic, and whether buyers will face trouble in registering or taking possession.
Surely, such institutions must exist, yet somehow, people still fall into these traps. A person books a flat in a major city, hoping to provide a home for their children to live in while they study at a university. But then, even after the children have graduated, the flat still isn’t delivered. Worse yet, other people appear with paperwork claiming ownership of the same property.
What then? This is nothing short of destroying people’s dreams — perhaps even worse. Crushing someone’s simple hopes like this is deeply immoral — religiously, socially, legally, and ethically.
There are thousands of such cases, where people’s hard-earned money is stuck or outright stolen. What are people supposed to do now — laugh? Cry? Protest? This is the responsibility of the state and the government.
They must create, and if already existing, promote public awareness of institutions that verify such schemes. Before investing in any housing or property project, people should be encouraged to first check with such an institution. If the scheme is found to be completely legal and approved, only then should people be advised to invest.
But we often hear that some people within the government are themselves involved in this business, which leaves the public wondering: “If we can’t even trust the authorities, then who else do we turn to besides God?”
Running a government without empathy for the sufferings of the people is an injustice. The time has come to put an end to the builder mafia’s theatrical drama of unwanted guests. They must be reined in, controlled, and held accountable.
Otherwise, the number of victims of the builder mafia will continue to grow, and this tragedy — far from fiction — will only deepen in our society.
Read: Sindhi Language Digitization: Pathways Ahead
_________________
Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.
