Daily Times

I spent a day with Abdus Sattar Edhi on March 1, 1998. It was one of the most inspiring days of my life, one filled with rare insights. This article describes that day, and attempts to capture various facets of Edhi the man, the social worker, the strategic planner, the manager, and the iconoclast. Here I have tried to describe the many traits that made Edhi a distinct personality: his simplicity; accessibility; unique ideas about religion, welfare, and development; and his planning and management skills.

One of the most striking things about Edhi was his accessibility. I got his phone number from one of the Edhi offices, and called him. He picked up the phone himself, and asked me to come to Sohrab Goth early morning the next day. And when I arrived the next morning at 7.00 a.m. at the Edhi centre at Sohrab Goth, the man, larger than life, was very much there. He was dressed in his Mao-style clothes, with slippers on his feet.

However, I was lucky on a number of counts. When I mentioned his accessibility Edhi said that he was in the “right mood,” and that was mainly related to his physical health. He said that he had no qualms in refusing anybody if he did not feel like it. While he looked extremely fit for his 70 years, and drove all over the place himself, he had to take pills daily for a physical problem he had picked up during his work.

I was also lucky to meet Edhi on a Sunday, as this was his visit day. For the last many years he had been visiting all his projects in and around Karachi on Sunday, so I joined him on his lone tour sitting next to him in his van. He never turned the ambulance air-conditioning on, despite the traffic and pollution on the roads.

The tour was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Within the span of eight hours we visited the following Edhi institutions: Edhi Centre for Men, Sohrab Goth, Karachi; Edhi Head Office, Mithadar (also his residence); Edhi Child Home; Edhi Village, Super Highway (for orphan children); Edhi Village, Super Highway (for mentally unstable men); Edhi Animal Hostel, Super Highway; Bilqees Edhi Centre for Female Children, Clifton, Karachi; Edhi Centre for mentally unstable females, North Karachi.

According to Edhi he received excellent cooperation from government officials, policemen, hospitals, and others. This was evident as we drove through various parts of the city. All over the city/highway people kept waving or smiling at him, including policemen, children, families, workers, drivers, and he waved/salaamed back.

The visit to the Edhi Village on the super highway was an eye opener. It consists of two facilities, adjacent to each other, a home for children, and one for men suffering from intellectual disabilities or psychological disorders. The architectural plan of the village was created by Edhi himself. Each facility is 500 feet by 500 feet square. The outer perimeter consists of rooms, while the inner space consists of open lawns and greenery. According to Edhi, most mental patients suffered more in a restrictive environment, and needed a sense of openness. The natural surroundings provide a sense of freedom, while the outer perimeter prevents them from wandering out. In the child home the cleaning, washing, cooking and childcare are carried out by older children, while in the other facility it is done by men with mild symptoms. A doctor visits the facility on a regular basis.

On the way back from the village we stopped at a very unusual place: a treatment centre for injured birds and animals. They included monkeys, mules, cats, domestic birds, owls, etc. A veterinary doctor visited the facility regularly.

The Edhi head office in Mithadar, which is the nerve centre of the foundation, was, surprisingly, only eight feet by eight feet in size. It had boxes stacked up to the ceiling with labels such as Bosnia, Afghanistan, Lebanon, Egypt, etc., related to Edhi projects in these countries. At the time the foundation had worked in or was working in 30 countries. Oddly, there was no computer or a photocopier. When I asked Edhi about that, he pointed to the stacked boxes and jokingly said, “This is my computer.” Next to the office was another small room, housing Edhi’s bed and a few personal belongings.

The influence that Edhi exercises on the lives of thousands of people was evident the moment we entered any one of his centres. The halls would echo with shouts of Maulana, Abu (father), Maulana Abu. Most would try to hold his hands. He would talk to some of them, often taking their names. It was a scene reminiscent of the stories one read about seers who healed the poor through their natural power and energy. Ironically, Edhi hated being called a maulana, because he considered it offensive to real maulanas (religious scholars), who are knowledgeable about Islam, but the label refuses to go away.

Edhi’s simplicity and hands-on approach was evident during the trip. He did not have lunch, ate whatever inmates were eating, and drank the water they were drinking. Besides driving, he also put water in the radiator of the ambulance. I was told that he had only two pairs of clothes, which he washed and wore alternatively.

In the Edhi system there is no concept of holidays. Since an emergency does not have holidays, Edhi services are available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Those in his staff who do not measure up to this demanding schedule have no place in the scheme of things. The reason nobody complained was because Edhi and his wife, Bilqees, put in more hours of work than everybody else.

I noticed that Edhi did not wear a watch, despite the fact that he visited numerous projects across the city on Sunday. When he was asked he said, “My time is not planned.” When you are providing a round-the-clock emergency service, daily time planning can become redundant very quickly.

In the words of Edhi, he dealt in wholesale rejected maal (merchandise) — large numbers of the poor rejected by their own families or communities. While most organisations are proud if they can help 50 or 100 mentally sick, orphans, or widows, Edhi had approximately 6,000 such people in 13 centres/homes spread throughout the country. In the words of Edhi, “We provide succour without questions. We whiten society’s rejected black maal.”

Edhi articulated his vision in words that one does not find in writings about him. To quote him: “I am building a social welfare state from below.” He said that he started by influencing individuals to become committed to his cause, and then moved from individuals to groups, gradually increasing his circle of influence. He works harder and faster than any volunteer or paid staff, bearing the greatest personal discomfort.

One of the things I became conscious of while talking to Edhi or observing him interacting with others was his ingrained egalitarianism. For example, when someone in my presence tried to impress him by referring to a past association, it simply had no impact on Edhi. Power, wealth, status, connections, intellectual advancement, kinship, clan or religious background seemed irrelevant to him. He provided the same or a better standard of living to the poorest, the most oppressed, including residence, food and security, exactly the opposite of what society provides for them. Everything is evaluated against one simple criterion: how does it benefit the poor. What counts is not what you are, but what you do. There is also no hierarchy in the organisation, with everyone getting more or less the same salary.

One aspect of Edhi that is not emphasised in writings about him was his highly creative and innovative mind. For example, he developed and implemented an income generation scheme for the rural poor. It involved providing 10 layer hens to poor women, and if they were able to manage them well over a given period of time, they were provided with two goats, eventually graduating to a cow — a modular system based on performance.

When Edhi discovered that some staff members (particularly drivers) were siphoning off donations or payments for services, he devised a unique system of two receipts, with one being kept by the donor/payer, and the other being posted directly to Edhi using a prepaid stamped envelope. Another one of Edhi’s ideas was that after five years of service most of the drivers would be replaced by children who had grown up in Edhi homes.

(To be concluded)

The writer is Director, Institute of Social Sciences, Lahore