In the line of fire

What could be more painful than men, women and children being burned alive while shopping for weddings and festivities at Gul Plaza? The knowledge that many of those lives could have been saved. Would it have taken billions of rupees? No. Not even a penny from the government — perhaps not even its will.

Nearly two days after the blaze began, Gul Plaza — a bustling, multi-storey market housing more than 1,200 family-run shops — was reduced to ashes. At least 71 people lost their lives. Fifteen others were reported missing, feared dead. It was Karachi's deadliest commercial fire in over a decade.

Survivors recount scenes of horror: locked exits, suffocating corridors, poor ventilation and absolute darkness. When they finally escaped — some by breaking doors, others by forming human chains — they stood outside watching the building burn, waiting for rescue that arrived too late for many.

What makes this tragedy unforgivable is that it was forewarned. Entirely predictable. Reports indicate that Gul Plaza had violated building safety regulations for over ten years. Court cases were filed. Fire department surveys repeatedly flagged blocked exits, faulty alarms, poor wiring, inadequate firefighting equipment, and the absence of emergency lighting. In multiple safety categories, the building was rated unsatisfactory.

Yet it remained open. Fully operational. Packed with people.

"On the fateful night, fifteen of its sixteen exits were locked — a routine practice after 10pm. Minutes later, smoke poured through ducts and vents, swallowing the building from within. The lights went out. Mobile phone flashlights became useless. People could no longer see their own hands. It felt like doomsday," recalled a survivor.

This was not an accident. It was not negligence alone. It was institutional consent.

Karachi's latest inferno is a verdict on a city that continues to treat fire safety as optional despite its swelling population. From commercial plazas and factories to workshops and informal markets, fires in Pakistan follow a grimly familiar pattern: non-functional alarms, blocked exits, stairwells that turn into chimneys, and flammable materials stored without oversight. When flames erupt, evacuation becomes impossible, rescue efforts are delayed, and lives are lost — not because fire is unstoppable, but because preparedness is absent.

Urban centres like Karachi and Lahore are particularly vulnerable. PERA in Lahore is doing commendable work against encroachments and road closures — a major obstacle in firefighting operations. Densely packed commercial buildings routinely violate fire codes with impunity. Inspections, if conducted at all, are reduced to paperwork exercises. Enforcement agencies lack both capacity and authority, while owners prioritise rentable space over safety infrastructure. In such an environment, disaster is not a question of if, but when.

It is time to reset our priorities. Human life must be recognised as the most valuable commodity we possess, and any risk to it — whether in buildings, on roads, or in public transport — must be deemed unacceptable. Governance cannot function with open gutters and locked exit gates in Karachi.

What deepens the pain is that the solutions are neither complex nor expensive. Functional fire exits, emergency lighting, regular drills, trained staff, sprinkler systems and strict penalties for violations are standard practice across the world. In Pakistan, however, responsibility is diffused — between builders, regulators, municipal authorities and political leadership — until accountability disappears entirely.

Fire tragedies also expose a deeper governance failure: the normalisation of preventable loss. Each incident is mourned briefly before fading into the background noise of everyday crises. Victims are reduced to numbers. Lessons remain unlearned. Reforms announced in the aftermath of major fires rarely translate into systemic change.

Safety cannot remain optional in a rapidly urbanising country with ageing infrastructure. If the government lacks the manpower or resources to develop and enforce firefighting plans for commercial plazas, it must, at the very least, make these commercial hubs fully responsible for their own fire safety.

Otherwise, we are all standing in the line of fire.