
With soaring crime rates in Karachi, its citizens face an even graver issue — desensitisation. The sheer frequency of thefts, robberies and violent crimes has led to an empathy drought, where shocking crimes barely evoke a reaction anymore. Each day, newspapers are flooded with crime reports, with many more even going unheard, yet it fails to stir something inside the people of the Metropolis. The never-ending cycle of crime and media coverage has led to a situation where people read about thefts, robberies, and even murders, with little more than a shrug.
Karachi has been ranked among the world’s riskiest cities. One would expect that this news would garner widespread outrage. Instead, violence has so seamlessly integrated in our routine that many have accepted it as an unavoidable part of life. Social media posts about thefts or murders receive little engagement unless they are heavily sensationalised or pointedly brutal. The price of a human life is increasingly becoming reliant on shock factors.
Some argue that inflation forces people into committing crimes, but the bigger concern remains about how we, as a society, respond to it. Have we started excusing criminal behaviour? Have we stopped demanding justice? When crimes become statistics rather than tragedies, we risk normalising them.
Public reactions to crime have visibly declined over time. Consider the Noor Mukaddam case from 2022 — widespread protests erupted, social media was flooded with demands for justice, and the nation stood united in outrage. Now, compare that with the recent case of Mustafa Amir. Where is the same level of public anger? Instead, the silence is deafening. How did we go from collectively standing against violent crimes to merely shrugging at yet another tragic headline? If this isn’t alarming, then what is?
One might wonder — how do we reach a point of desensitisation? The simple answer is overexposure. This does not mean that crime reports should be hidden from the public eye, but when a problem persists without a solution, people cease to react. People speak up when they believe they’ll be heard. When they lose that belief, they become silent. This is a dangerous path to walk, and we must question ourselves. What will it take to wake us up? Another headline? Another statistic? Or will we finally demand change before it’s too late?
Nataliya Fatima
Karachi