In Umerkot District alone, more than 25,000 profiles of senior citizens have repeatedly been collected by the Social Welfare Department over the years. Similar exercises have been carried out across Sindh since 2017. Yet, in many communities, elderly citizens continue asking a simple question: what happens after the documentation is collected?
This question should not be interpreted as criticism of the Social Welfare Department. Rather, it reflects a broader governance challenge that affects many public welfare initiatives in Pakistan. Too often, administrative energy is spent each year on collecting data, while insufficient attention is given to converting data into services. Once a year, they issue letters to subordinates to collect the profiles of senior citizens. Beyond that, there is no backup, no science, no strategy, and no funds available to provide them with relief or compensation.
The idea behind the Freedom Card is really good. It aims to provide concessions and benefits to senior citizens, including discounts on public transport, healthcare services, railway tickets, bus fares, and access to various government facilities. Such support can significantly improve the quality of life for elderly citizens who have spent their lives serving their families, communities, and the nation.
From the villages of Umerkot and Tharparkar to the towns of Badin, Sanghar, Mirpurkhas, and Thatta, elderly men and women, including some disabled youths, continue carrying files filled with photocopies of CNICs, passport-sized photographs, registration forms, and other required documents. They wait patiently in government offices, believing that one day the card will help them travel more cheaply, access healthcare more easily, and live with greater dignity.
This was a blank fire, as they did not strategise the arrangements through which elders could receive facilities, such as support from private hospitals or other institutions where assistance might be available. They have a blank strategy; there is no idea, no homework, and no clarity about what benefits they will receive or how. This is a question that remains unanswered.
As per their current practices, they have been collecting profiles as directed by the Social Welfare Department since 2017, and even in 2026, after nine years, the same resources are being wasted again and again. This needs to stop, and there is a need to work on real implementation by segregating old-age needs based on equality and equity.
Many elderly people died while keeping hope alive. This raises serious questions about the capacity of the department. If nothing meaningful can be done, then why continue giving hope and making promises to elderly citizens year after year? Since 2017, the same practice has been repeated, with resources being spent annually on collecting files and profiles from senior citizens.
Very sadly, in some cases, departmental documents can be seen lying in the dust, scattered around office premises, and even flying across the road from the Social Welfare Department office to the main road. During strong winds, particularly in areas like Umerkot and Tharparkar, these papers are carried away by the wind, almost as if they are returning to the very villages from where they were collected. It presents a disturbing picture of institutional capacity and record management.
Every file represents an elderly citizen who spent money on photographs, photocopies, transportation, and documentation in the hope of receiving support. When these documents end up gathering dust or being blown away by the wind, it raises legitimate concerns about accountability, planning, and the seriousness with which the programme is being managed. The issue is not merely about paperwork; it is about the dignity, trust, and expectations of thousands of senior citizens who deserve better from a welfare initiative designed for their benefit.
In the villages of Thar, a seventy-year-old shepherd does not need a form to prove his age. The wrinkles on his face, the calluses on his hands, and the memories of the droughts he survived are evidence enough. An elderly woman in Nagarparkar who raised six children through years of water scarcity does not need another photocopy to demonstrate her vulnerability. Yet many elderly citizens continue spending money on transport, photographs, photocopies, and documentation simply to remain in a system that often struggles to communicate outcomes.
For someone living in Karachi, a few hundred rupees may appear insignificant. For an elderly labourer in rural districts, it may represent several days' income. This raises an important question about the philosophy of welfare itself. Should vulnerable citizens travel to services, or should services travel to vulnerable citizens? Instead of repeatedly collecting the same information, authorities could explore mechanisms that link senior citizen benefits directly to existing identity records. Mobile registration units could reach remote communities. Local governments could establish dedicated help desks for elderly citizens. Clear public communication regarding available benefits, eligibility criteria, and implementation timelines could reduce uncertainty and strengthen public confidence.
