KARACHI – While government departments concerned claim to maintain lists of immigrants – illegal or otherwise – from Afghanistan and Bangladesh, nothing of the sort is done for immigrants from India, Pakistan Today has learned. Not only do many young men from India overstay their visas while visiting families in Karachi, some also decide to stay for good, and get ‘fake’ identification papers made with the help of officials. This process, an investigation at the Passport Office in Karachi showed, is much easier than getting a legitimate citizen’s passport renewed. Twenty-five-year-old Umair* landed in Karachi five months ago from Patna in India. He was visiting his maternal family in Orangi Town.
Once here, however, he decided to stay, primarily to escape what he referred to as ‘anti-Muslim discrimination’ orchestrated by the Bhartiya Janata Party (BJP) and its ideological partners. “Things are difficult if you’re a lower-middleclass Muslim. My family does not have contacts or sources,” he said. “I have an MA, but what use is it if it can’t help me get a job – any job?” He doesn’t think people of other faiths from the same economic background as him face the same problems in India. In Pakistan, on the other hand, Umair believes that he will be treated ‘more equally’.
“I might not get a very good job that matches my qualifications, but Karachi is like Mumbai; I can do anything to get by – sell things from a pushcart, work at a grocery store.
The biggest difference is that I will not get picked on for being Muslim,” he claims. Once his decision was made, Umair needed official papers – a birth certificate, Matric and Intermediate diplomas, university degrees, a Computerised National Identity Card (CNIC) and a passport – to prove that he was a citizen of Pakistan, and for good measure, that he had lived here since birth. As such, he had two options: either go the legal way and risk getting thrown out of the country; or get papers made illegally.
He, like many others in his situation, chose the latter. Initially, he refused to disclose how he got his papers, but after Pakistan Today conducted its own investigations, he conceded that that was “one way to do it”. The process is much easier than it sounds: stand outside the passport office, wait to be accosted by one of the ‘agents’ running around looking for customers, explain your situation, negotiate a price, and then sit back while the agent and the officials whom he is in cahoots with do the rest. Barely does one step anywhere near the Passport Office in Saddar, than one is accosted by at least five agents at a time: “Bibi, what do you need? We’re here to help.”
Their jobs, they claim, is to ‘make things easier’ for people visiting the passport office either to get their passports renewed or get new ones made – in return for a fee, of course. Part of this fee goes to the agent; the rest is divided along the chain of command which is involved in the process of helping people skip queues.
Next, pinpoint the most ‘able’ agent, and tell him that you need documents. “What sort?” “All of them.” “Why?” “I’m not Pakistani. I want to be. I’m from India.”
“Aah! I understand,” he smiles. “Welcome to a Muslim country. I get a lot of customers like you.
Around five to 10 every month. I’m happy to help.” His ‘happiness’, however, involves a price. “Rs85,000,” he said. “You’ll get a birth certificate, a school leaving certificate, a CNIC, and Matric and Intermediate diplomas. If you want a passport too, the total will be Rs105,000.” Then the negotiations begin; he gets exasperated soon. “Look, do you want these things or not,” he asks. “How will you get them?” “That’s my problem. Your problem is the money.” “But still…” “There are many ways. We could either cook up records, or get you one for someone who’s dead. Either way, no one will find out – this is why the price seems high. A lot of people need to be paid.
The money is not just for me,” he claimed. “If you opt for the former, we’ll have to insert a record of birth in the files concerned, insert records of Matric and Intermediate diplomas, get these diplomas made, then get a CNIC made, followed by a passport. This is a longer process. The other option is to simply adopt the identity of someone who is dead. That way, we only need to change the date on the birth certificate and Matric and Intermediate diplomas; and eliminate the death certificate. This will be cheaper, and can be done much faster.” “Won’t computerised records make things more difficult?” The expression on the agent’s face looks like he’s talking to a child now. He takes a deep breathe. “If I say it can be done, then it can be done.
‘How’ is not your problem. Hum haiN na (we’re here),” he says. “The documents will be completely legitimate; you don’t have to worry about that. Hum doh number kaam nahi kartey.” After 45 minutes of haggling, the man finally came down to Rs45,000 for a birth certificate, CNIC and a passport. If he is to be believed, within two to three weeks of making my payment, I will be able to adopt the identity of a dead person, and call myself a citizen of Pakistan, complete with the documents and a ‘lived history’ to prove it. “What other option do we have,” Umair shot back when confronted with this information.
“I have a family to look after. I can’t spend my life running from pillar to post. I’ll end up killing myself in frustration – or kill others. And its not like some random dead person is going to mind.”
* Name changed to protect identity
