Women push and shove for the chance to buy subsidized cooking oil in Rawalpindi. The government has been forced to offer staple foods at subsidized prices. (Stephen Puddicombe/CBC)
STEPHEN PUDDICOMBE - Reporter's Notebook
Scarce food among the plenty that is Pakistan
Updated Aug. 13, 2007
I had a great dinner the other night. I ate at a lovely Italian restaurant in Islamabad with a few friends. I had the fried squid fresh from the sea, a penne alfredo pasta dish followed by apple pie. I went home after and slept like a baby.
Contrary to popular opinion, there is lots of food in Pakistan, good food, too. What's more, the country is self-sufficient. It grows enough grain to feed the 166 or so million people who live here.
You can walk into any bakery, any supermarket and the shelves glisten with fancy treats, pies, canned foods from North America, and coffees that can make you drool.
A man sells popcorn in Rawalpindi. (Stephen Puddicombe/CBC)
In the poorer areas there are dozens of markets and street venders selling everything from the sweetest oranges you have ever tasted to popcorn (the kind you tend only to get in movie theatres) to fresh roasted almonds. It is all there for the taking — if you can afford it.
Pakistan's dilemma is that it is getting more difficult for the majority here to afford the same amount of food they could buy even a year ago.
Prices have soared. A bag of flour in Peshawar, in the North West Frontier province, has doubled. Naan, the traditional flatbread eaten by many, is out of reach to growing numbers today.
Blame is easy
There are several reasons behind the jump in prices. Some blame the government for mismanaging grain supplies. Others say mill owners export too much to India and Afghanistan because they can get higher prices that way.
Still others allege that hoarding by unscrupulous suppliers has caused the jump and that this has been exacerbated by the recent state of emergency.
Blame is easy to lay, solutions are much harder to find in a country plagued by civil unrest, suicide attacks and poverty.
Few here, in fact, seem to have any idea what to do about the shortages and high prices. Some suggest the government should take better charge, but many others say the government itself is to blame.
What is known is that until someone works out a solution the problem will only become worse.
Home cooking in Rawalpindi
Recently, for a story for CBC's The National, I sat with a family in Rawalpindi talking to them about the problem.
This is a family of eight living in a grey, three-room apartment with no windows and black mould dotting the walls.
A woman cooks dinner for her family of eight in Rawalpindi. (Stephen Puddicombe/CBC)
The father drives a taxi. He says not only have food prices skyrocketed but so has fuel. This means higher costs for him and fewer people being able to afford a cab, both of which translate into less food.
What struck me most, though, as his wife prepared the evening meal — a meagre serving of vegetables and meat barely enough for her own family — is that they offered us some. In fact, they insisted: It is the Pakistani way.
A few days later, I saw lines of people waiting for trucks, loaded with flour and oil, at a market. The government had been forced to offer subsidized staples.
Pakistan has seen food rationing before, but most experts agree there should not be a need for it today.
Many people in the line were angry that they cannot afford basic foods and that they know there will not be enough here to go around. They were right.
I interviewed several of those in the line. Most blamed the government, rightly or wrongly, for the high food prices and shortages.
But for many here it really did not matter who was at fault. They just knew that it has become harder and harder to feed their families and their children.
Most of us, Westerners especially, leave these scenes and go back to our nice houses or hotels or a restaurant in Islamabad or Lahore and have almost anything we want.
Lately, I find myself thinking about that meal at the Italian restaurant. Did I finish everything on my plate? I can't remember. I pass that restaurant almost everyday and the memory of that meal is still with me, but I don't feel like eating there anymore.
ABOUT THIS AUTHOR
Biography
Stephen Puddicombe is CBC News's Pakistan reporter. He has previously reported from: Afghanistan, Belize, Haiti, Halifax, Iraq and Jordan.
