‘FUNDING, funding and regular funding’ is what Pakistani women athletes say they need most to compete internationally. Talent alone, they point out, cannot take them to the world stage; it must be backed by quality equipment, top-notch coaching, proper training facilities, nutrition and the means to travel and compete.

For most athletes, both male and female, except those supported by the departmental sports system such as the Pakistan Army, Wapda, the Higher Education Commission, National Bank, Pakistan Railways, police and airlines, the struggle begins long before competition day: finding the resources simply to stay in the game. State patronage is limited, private sponsorship even scarcer — and for women, almost non-existent.

Even for female athletes with supportive families or relatively privileged backgrounds, funding remains a constant struggle. Eman Khan, who won the gold at the 2024 International Mixed Martial Arts Federation Asian Championships, receives only sporadic private sponsorships. To sustain her career in the intensely male-dominated and often ‘violent’ world of the martial arts, she relies on coaching others to fund her own training and competition expenses.

The barriers are even greater for girls from Pakistan’s remotest and poorest districts. Without sponsors or financial backing, many are forced to quit before their talent is ever discovered; this is not just an individual but also a national loss.

Stadiums are largely empty and media attention wanes when it comes to women playing sports.

In Jacobabad, the Star Women’s Sports Acade­­my, the only women’s sports club in Larkana division, trains 32 girls from low-income homes in football, hockey, cricket and tennis for free. But with little funding and a severe shortage of equipment, many aspiring players are turned away. The club cannot afford to send athletes to private tournaments.

Founded in 2017 by hockey player Erum Baloch, in April the academy had to appeal on social media for basic gear — goalkeeping kits, hockey sticks and balls. Baloch, who teaches at a private institution, uses much of her own salary to keep the club — her passion — running. Help poured in from ordinary citizens and philanthropists. Even a sportswoman from Peshawar rushed to ensure the girls had the equipment they needed to continue playing. The appeal is a stark reflection of the lack of official support for women’s sports.

Similarly, last year, after reading about the plight of these athletes, the Australian high commission helped fund a hockey training camp for them in Islamabad.

However, ad hoc support and one-off training cannot produce national or international athletes. When coaches constantly scramble for basic equipment, training becomes inconsistent, eroding the very backbone of competitive sport.

Star Academy is far from the only women’s sports club trudging along with limited resources. Founders in Karachi, Hyderabad and Mirpurkhas say they often reach into their own pockets to keep girls playing — from water to rickshaw fares, they even buy shoes for those who cannot afford them. At the same time, they have to spend hours convincing hesitant parents to let their daughters continue.

But this financial strain is intertwined with harassment within the system. Coaches have observed that girls from poorer, more conservative homes — some describe their charges as ‘less educated, less confident and unable to speak in English’ — often become a target of sexual harassment. Many girls stay quiet for fear of being pressured to leave the sports premises — or the sport itself. Others, the coaches allege, are sidelined (even if talented) as ‘punishment’ for refusing the inappropriate advances of male officials who influence selection and careers.

Another reason why women’s sport remains chr­onically underfunded compared to men’s, said Dr Sadia Sheikh, founder of Pakistan’s first women’s sports club, Diya Academy (established in 2002), is that: “Women’s sports are less marketable.”

“Inn ki tau kal shadi ho jai ge; hum ko kiya return milay ga?” (Tomorrow these women will get married; if we invest in them, what returns will we get?) is a common excuse by corporations for turning them away, she said. This dismissive attitude, pointed out Dr Sheikh, is reinforced by the lacklustre viewership: stadiums remain largely empty and media attention wanes when it comes to women playing sports.

However, in sports such as cricket and football, there has been some positive development of late. The state and private sponsors are investing in female athletes. The latter receive enviable packages (though not equal to their male counterparts’) consisting of comfortable accommodation, good meals, daily allowances and even salaries or stipends, when compared to female athletes in other sports. They are even sent abroad for training and also get a chance to play against international teams.

Yet women in field hockey remain under the radar. It would be worth asking if our women’s na­­tional hockey team has qualified for the 2026 16-nation World Cup set to be held in Belgium and the Netherlands in August. Surely a country whose national sport is hockey must have a strong women’s team to be sent alongside its male counterpart!

Recently, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif approved budgetary allocations to promote sports and supported a sports endowment fund for veterans, while also pledging “all-out support” and equal opportunities for women in sport. However, a dedicated national fund for women athletes is yet to be announced.

But there is still time to act. The Pakistan Sports Board, along with the national federations, is drafting a four-year athlete development programme and has sought a budget increase from Rs1.2 billion to Rs4.9bn to support training, coaching, infrastructure and international participation.

Before the PM gives his final approval, and before flagship projects, such as the Rs2.85bn Arshad Nadeem High Performance Sports Academy in Islamabad or the Rs 241 million multi-purpose sports complex in Faisalabad move ahead, it is worth asking what place, if any, women athletes occupy in this vision.

Their struggles are systemic. The answer lies not only in more funding, but in fairer allocation, stronger governance, greater media visibility and genuine inclusion. Without that, financial investment will not change the game.

The writer is an independent journalist based in Karachi.

X: @zofeen28

Published in Dawn, June 3rd, 2026

TWENTY years is a long time. Long enough for children to grow up and have children of their own. When K-IV (or the Greater Karachi Bulk Water Supply Scheme) was conceived in 2006, my son and daughter were 19 and 14, respectively. Today, I am a grandmother.

Karachi has changed. So has my life. But some things never change — I still rely on water tankers.

I’m not alone. The entire lane in my Clifton neighbourhood has depended on water tankers for years. When water does come through the Karachi Water and Sewerage Corporation’s (KWSC) pipes, we often avoid it because of recurrent sewage contamination in our underground tank. The exercise of emptying, cleaning and refilling it is costly and cumbersome.

We pay a hefty amount every other week for tanker water. Bargaining is not an option —risking it means they may not show up again, as demand is high.

It is in moments like these that the K-IV project comes to mind — Karachi’s long-awaited answer to its water woes. First proposed over two decades ago, the 650 MGD scheme was approved in 2014 after another eight-year delay, yet remains unfinished, leaving millions still waiting for water from Keenjhar Lake.

Experts say costs have increased almost seven-fold, from Rs25 billion to Rs171bn, an increase of about 583 per cent. They are likely to increase due to delays that the experts can foresee.

The K-IV project has faced funding constraints and repeated delays since its inception, with deadlines repeatedly missed and project heads changed. After a nine-year delay, it was inaugurated in June 2015 by then chief minister Syed Qaim Ali Shah, followed by two re-inaugurations — by Sindh governor Dr Ishratul Ibad in 2016 and Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif in 2023.

Karachi’s K-IV project has faced funding constraints and repeated delays since its inception.

When investigative journalists Mahim Maher and Sohail Khan published their landmark 2019 exposé on K-IV — a piece that doubles as a masterclass on Karachi’s water supply system — the project was already 13 years old. Their investigation found that delays, design flaws, bureaucratic wrangling and political interferences had plagued the scheme from the very start.

Seven more years have passed since the piece that had named and shamed those connected with the water supply project was published. But Karachi still waits.

Now, as the project nears completion, those inv­olved with it find the last mile to be the hardest.

‘If all goes well’ seems to be a common refrain used at high-level meetings, as though not using the phrase may tempt fate and lead to another delay. The latest completion deadline is December 2028. But nothing is set in stone.

While these four words — ‘if all goes well’ — speak volumes about a project that has spent 24 years missing deadlines, it is important to understand why K-IV discussions are peppered with this phrase.

Even if the core K-IV elements in the project are completed by the end of this year, as informed by insiders, without the 50 MW power supply required to bring alive the pumping complex near Keenjhar, the water cannot even be pumped out from the lake. Construction of the power infrastructure, due for completion by June 2027, only began in March this year, making it unlikely to be operational on time.

Another major hurdle is the Rs74bn K-IV Augmentation Project, which will connect the K-IV reservoirs to Karachi’s distribution network. With 80pc of its funding coming from World Bank and Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank loans, the project must meet stringent social, environmental, health and safety standards that have repeatedly delayed construction.

As a result, only 2.7 kilometres of the planned 98 km pipeline is under construction, with work halted at least three times over compliance issues, while the remaining 95 km is still awaiting procurement and tender approvals.

The institutional outlook is equally troubling. With no recruitment since 2008 under the former KWSB or its successor, the KWSC, nearly half of its 9,000 employees are expected to retire within the next five years, leaving no new cadre of qualified personnel to carry forward the institutional memory needed to run the utility.

Compounding the problem is a board that, arguably, lacks both independence and the expertise needed to effectively steer either the utility or the Karachi Water and Sewerage Services Improvement Project, the agency executing the augmentation project under the water corporation.

For Chief Minister Murad Ali Shah’s vision of a “modern and sustainable water supply system” for Karachi to materialise, all stakeholders must move with urgency. Otherwise, parts of the completed infrastructure could deteriorate from prolonged inactivity.

However, acceleration in pace requires seamless funding which has not happened. Loans from foreign institutions may take time to arrive and be processed, but it was the federal government’s responsibility to ensure a smooth flow of funds for the project. Last year, the federal government allocated only Rs3.2bn in the budget against a required Rs40bn. Even after raising it to Rs8.5bn, a shortfall of Rs31.5bn remains.

In all this time, however, three things have remained remarkably constant: the PPP’s continuing rule in Sindh, the thriving water-tanker economy and Karachi’s chronic thirst. It is against the backdrop of these constants that Karachi’s water crisis continues to unfold.

But it is not just about bringing more water to the city. Who is going to fix the crumbling distribution network or the aging and ailing sewerage system?

What about the weak governance, unchecked urban growth and decades of lethargy by different departments? Even if K-IV pumps water from Keenjhar and moves it to Karachi, it cannot fix the system. That, perhaps, is the lesson of Karachi’s water story in 2026. n

The writer is an independent journalist based in Karachi.

Published in Dawn, June 12th, 2026