Petrol prices push Pakistan back to a donkey cart economy

In Pakistan, the national pastime used to be cricket. Now, it’s a high-stakes endurance sport called "Watching the Fuel Needle". It’s a game played by millions, where the goal is to reach the petrol pump before the midnight price hike, only to find the "Out of Stock" sign. That sign is basically a petrol station's way of telling you, 'Congratulations, you now own a very heavy, stationary metal couch.'

The world is worried about oil prices hitting $126 per barrel. In most countries, people check their bank accounts. In Pakistan, the "living on the edge" lifestyle has reached a literal flashpoint, as people have reportedly begun checking the levels of their gas tanks. Forget stocks and cryptocurrency; the hottest commodity in town is a plastic canister of fuel, and the new "flashpoint" of the economy isn't the banking sector—it's the local petrol pump.

More from Opinion

Checking the gas tank has indeed become the new checking the bank account, as people decide which is more valuable: their savings or their mobility.

The 'Ultimate Flex'

Petrol in Pakistan is no longer just a combustible liquid; it’s a luxury fragrance. Walking into a party smelling faintly of Super Unleaded is the 'ultimate flex'. It is the most impressive way to show off—it tells people you have "Old Money" or, at the very least, some fuel in the tank.

The cost of petrol and diesel has risen so fast that it has turned petrol stations into the new luxury-item showrooms—look, but don’t touch. Carpooling has evolved from an eco-friendly choice into a desperate survival act. Moreover, if you see four grown men riding together on a single 70cc motorcycle in Pakistan, don't misjudge; they aren’t being reckless, they’re practising "fiscal responsibility".

Political Candour

In a remarkable display of political candour, Pakistan's Petroleum Minister Ali Pervaiz Malik said in a TV interview recently that the country has only five to seven days’ worth of oil supplies and lacks any strategic reserves to fall back on.

The real irony was that just a few days earlier, Pakistani officials had reportedly described the fuel supply as "secure and stable". Clearly, they were dwelling in la-la land, blissfully unaware of the actual situation. Or did they hide the fact that their country is literally running on fumes, which, too, have become as precious and scarce as honest Pakistani officials?

As fuel prices have surged, the definition of "stability" has become as fluid as the very oil that Pakistan doesn't have.

In a moment of refreshing honesty, Malik told his interviewer, "We are not like India, which has 60–70 days of reserves and can release it with just a single signature." It’s like telling the people to stop comparing a bank vault (India) to a piggy bank (Pakistan). As fuel prices have surged, the definition of "stability" has become as fluid as the very oil that Pakistan doesn't have.

Blaming the IMF

When asked why Pakistan hadn't built up strategic petroleum reserves, Malik took the classic route: he placed the blame somewhere else. He argued that Pakistan is essentially grounded by the International Monetary Fund, whose bailout conditions have left the government with about as much fiscal space as in a packed minibus in Lahore.

For the Pakistani minister to blame the IMF for his country's plight is laughable. Pakistan treats fiscal management like a New Year's resolution: it starts strong on 1 January, then abandons it the next day. It treats IMF loans like a live-streaming service subscription—constantly renewing the "Bailout Premium" plan because they can't figure out how to stop watching the "Economic Crisis" channel.

Pakistan has sought 25 IMF arrangements since 1958, averaging a new bailout every 2.5 years. The Pakistan government considers each strict IMF bailout package a "significant stride in stability". While the bailouts provide temporary stability to foreign reserves, the underlying structural issues—corruption, low tax-to-GDP ratios, and poor governance—persist, making the nation a perpetual borrower. In reality, it is like trying to fix a leaky submarine with chewing gum, leaving citizens wondering if this is a rescue or a recurring horror movie.

It is no secret that Pakistan’s economy is currently operating on the financial equivalent of "thoughts and prayers", held together by Scotch tape and the undying hope that the IMF has a very short memory. Its inflation rate is racing faster than a speeding bullet. At this point, the Pakistani rupee is less of a currency and more of a collectible souvenir—beautiful to look at, but you probably shouldn’t try to buy anything substantial with it.

If you cannot afford fuel, you simply do not drive. If you cannot afford to drive, you do not need to work. If you do not work, you cannot buy food. And if you do not eat, you save money on groceries. It is a perfect, self-sustaining circle of poverty.

The Pakistani government seems to believe that it has solved the problem of inflation and has ushered in a new fiscal philosophy.

Final Thoughts: Pedal and Bray Power

With petrol prices attempting to break the sound barrier, Pakistan’s transportation sector is experiencing a revolutionary, high-tech pivot back to 1920, where the future is undeniably powered by two wheels and long ears.

Bicycles in Pakistan are no longer just for kids or morning exercise. The daily commute now looks like a competitive cycling tour, where a guy in a suit is weaving through traffic on a 1980s Sohrab bicycle, overtaking luxury sedans that are now essentially just heavy, stationary status symbols. As fuel shortages drive demand, the streets are filled with the sound of jingling bells rather than angry horns, making the daily traffic jam look like an eco-friendly fitness drive, or perhaps just a very desperate attempt to reach the office without breaking the bank. Viral trends also show wedding parties on bicycles.

The luxury Corolla is officially being replaced by the sleek, eco-friendly donkey cart that boasts 0.5 horsepower, zero emissions, and surprisingly aggressive acceleration when the driver mentions the price of hay. Instead of chasing the elite life, citizens are embracing the "Donkey Cart Economy", where maintenance costs only a few hundred rupees in fodder rather than a month's salary in fuel. Forget the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC); by 2030, the main national highway could well be a one-lane mud track. As Pakistanis embrace the "no petrol, no tension" lifestyle, donkey carts are set to become the country's most reliable, inflation-proof, and arguably most comfortable form of long-distance travel, complete with organic, braying security systems.

Pakistan’s situation is a stark reminder: a little strategic planning goes a long way. But hey, at least the air in Karachi and Lahore must be getting cleaner right now.

(The writer is a retired Indian diplomat and had previously served as ambassador in Kuwait and Morocco and as Consul General in New York. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.)