Struggling to survive.

A story shocked me badly which published on a leading newspaper of my country today on Tuesday , 26th of May.

Let's read again,
In the bustling streets of Lahore, where the city never seems to sleep, lives 42 year old Abdul Qayyum, a daily-wage laborer who wakes every morning at dawn in search of work that barely keeps his family alive. For over two decades, Qayyum has toiled under the scorching sun and biting cold, lifting bricks, mixing cement, and carrying heavy loads. But despite the sweat on his brow and the pain in his joints, life has only grown harsher.
“I earn 900 rupees a day—on the days I do find work,” says Qayyum, his hands rough and cracked from years of labor. “But now even that amount feels like nothing. Flour is over 160 rupees per kilo, vegetables are luxury items, and I can’t even remember the last time we bought meat.”

Qayyum lives in a small two-room rented house on the outskirts of the city with his wife and three children. His wife, Farzana, used to stitch clothes for neighbors to earn a few extra hundred rupees, but her health has declined over the past year, forcing her to stop. The children, aged 5, 9, and 13, attend a nearby government school—when they can. Most days, they leave with empty stomachs and return home to a meal of bread and tea, if anything.
“The kids ask for things. A biscuit, a toy, sometimes just a ride on the bus,” Qayyum says with a pained smile. “And I have to say no. Every time. It breaks me a little more.”

Inflation has hit Pakistan hard, with food prices soaring over the past year. Rent has increased. Utility bills have doubled. And for someone like Qayyum, whose income has remained stagnant, the pressure has become unbearable.

Last week, after returning home from another fruitless day searching for work, Qayyum found his youngest son crying from hunger. There was no money left, not even for a packet of milk. That night, Qayyum sat in silence, his mind heavy with hopelessness. The next morning, he walked to the Ravi River with a note in his pocket.

“I felt like a burden. I thought maybe if I disappear, someone would help my family out of pity,” he says quietly.

But as he stood on the edge of the river, a passerby noticed him and intervened, calling the police. Qayyum was pulled back from the brink—literally and figuratively. He spent a night in the hospital under observation, and his story began to spread on social media after a local journalist posted about it.

The next day, a small NGO reached out to the family and provided immediate relief in the form of rations and a small cash donation. They also helped Qayyum register for a government assistance through Benazir income support program (BISP) that could offer a modest monthly stipend.

While the aid is far from enough to change his life entirely, it has rekindled a flicker of hope in Qayyum’s heart.

“I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t see any way to live,” he says, holding back tears. “But maybe there is still a way. Maybe someone will listen.”

Qayyum’s story is not unique. Across Pakistan, countless laborers face similar struggles working long hours for meager pay, living on the edge of desperation. His near-tragedy is a stark reminder of the human cost of inflation, especially on society's most vulnerable.

As Qayyum returns to the streets, shovel in hand and hope in his heart, his plea remains simple: “We don’t want luxury. Just dignity. Just a chance to survive.”

Thank you so much for your valuable time to read the story of the day. Like, upvote and leave comment for feedback.

Note: The article also published on my read.cash Wall.

Cheers,
Amjad