When grief crosses the threshold of a university, the question is not merely ‘what does policy allow?’ but ‘what does responsibility require?’ Institutions worthy of the name do not hide behind procedure; they complete procedure with conscience. In granting a Grade-16 appointment to the sister of a student lost in a campus transport tragedy, the University of Karachi has acted in the spirit of restorative institutional ethics: to acknowledge harm within its orbit and to answer it with dignity rather than a price tag.
This choice is not favouritism; it is a calibrated recognition of proximity and duty. Justice is more than a ledger of equal entries. It is also a response to particular wounds. Where an institution’s own machinery becomes the site of loss, compassion is not an optional sentiment; it is an obligation with form. By placing the matter before the Syndicate and securing a formal resolution, the administration aligns empathy with due process. The act’s moral force lies precisely in its publicness: it is compassion that can be seen, recorded, and explained.
Nor does this compassion dilute accountability. A humane university must hold two truths together: the irreparability of a life, and the non-negotiable demand to prevent recurrence. Repair without reform is sentimentality; reform without repair is cold administration. The wisdom here is the and: mourn and restore, console and correct through inquiry, safety protocols, training and transparent governance.
Some will insist that only open competition counts as justice. Ordinarily they are right. But ordinary justice cannot be the last word in extraordinary harm. A carefully bounded, transparent and competence-aligned appointment is not a breach of fairness; it is fairness deepened by context. It keeps faith with the idea of a university as a guardian of futures able to say, even in loss: your life-chances are not abandoned.
In choosing due process with a human face, the administration shows that policy is not the ceiling of morality but its floor. The measure of an alma mater is not merely the brilliance it produces, but the care it practices when light goes out in one of its own homes.
Dr Intikhab Ulfat
Karach
