In a country where nearly 40% of the population lives below the poverty line, the spirit of giving and philanthropy plays a critical role in survival. Charity is not just a religious obligation in Pakistan—it’s a lifeline for millions. However, in recent years, a disturbing trend has emerged: the misuse of charity by certain organizations and the creation of a culture of dependence rather than empowerment. Institutions like Celani Welfare and Jelani Welfare (names altered) have gained attention for offering daily free meals, but beneath this apparent benevolence lies a troubling reality of financial non-transparency, tax evasion, and the systematic disabling of the underprivileged.
Offering free food might seem noble on the surface. Lines of hungry people receiving biryani packets or roti-salan daily have become common in urban centers. However, this recurring handout culture is quietly eroding the dignity of the recipients. Instead of enabling them to become self-reliant, it traps them in a cycle of passivity. Many individuals who once had basic skills—fruit vending, tailoring, or mechanics—have abandoned their trades to line up outside these “welfare” centers. They no longer feel the need to work, not because they are lazy, but because they have been conditioned to wait for handouts. The concept of earning has been replaced by the expectation of receiving.
What’s even more alarming is the financial secrecy of these so-called welfare organizations. Operating under the guise of non-profit status, many such institutions have amassed significant assets—vehicles, properties, and high-end facilities—while claiming to be solely funded by donations. Yet, no formal audits are presented to the public or tax authorities. These entities escape scrutiny due to political ties or the sacred status of charity in our culture. In some cases, they act as fronts for business empires that channel unaccounted wealth into their charitable wings to avoid taxation. This not only deprives the national treasury of vital tax revenue but also distorts the original purpose of welfare.
The psychological toll is equally concerning. When people lose the will or opportunity to earn, they also lose their sense of worth. They begin to see themselves not as individuals with potential, but as permanent dependents. Generations grow up watching their parents queue for food, learning that survival comes not from effort but from waiting. This is a grave injustice. Welfare should uplift, not subjugate. It should empower individuals to reclaim their dignity through honest work, not condition them into lifelong helplessness.
It is time to move from charity that feeds mouths to charity that builds futures. Instead of offering meals every day, why not help people feed themselves and others? Charitable organizations should shift their focus to creating micro-businesses for the poor. A fruit stall, a second-hand clothes cart, or a tea kiosk requires minimal investment but can provide lasting income. Welding machines, sewing kits, or barber tools can help skilled individuals rebuild their trades. Free food can be replaced with skill-based training—plumbing, stitching, mobile repair—anything that equips people with the ability to earn.
Small grants or interest-free loans can be provided with clear conditions: the beneficiary must contribute a small amount monthly to help others. This revolving model keeps the fund sustainable and instills a sense of responsibility. All charitable organizations must also be registered, audited annually, and publish their finances online. Any group failing to comply should lose its tax-exempt status. Involving local communities in identifying deserving candidates for support ensures that assistance reaches those truly in need and discourages freeloading.
The state must not turn a blind eye to this shadow welfare economy. The Federal Board of Revenue (FBR), NADRA, and SECP should maintain a centralized registry of all charities, their donors, and financial activities. Meanwhile, the media must stop romanticizing long queues of poor people and instead highlight stories of empowerment—stories of people who stood up because someone gave them the tools, not just the food.
Pakistan was not built on handouts. It was built by farmers, laborers, thinkers, and traders who believed in work. If we continue nurturing a culture of passive charity, we will paralyze the workforce and betray our values. Real welfare is not about giving rice—it’s about giving purpose. Let us imagine a system where every rupee donated is an investment in someone’s independence. Charity must be a ladder, not a crutch. We must demand transparency from welfare organizations and responsibility from donors. Most importantly, we must restore dignity by enabling every Pakistani to earn—honestly, proudly, and sustainably.