For the residents inside the Walled City of Lahore, sewage is one of the key tests of the quality of conservation and restoration work done in their area. In Qasa’iyon-waali Gali, an owner of a general store, Usman, points me to a small manhole in front of his store, “That overflowed in the rains. Before the government ‘fixed’ it, it had never flooded so badly. That’s the kind of work the government has done here.” The drain was also the first thing that I was pointed to in the gali right next to it. Gali Surjan Singh was restored by Aga Khan Trust for Culture (AKTC) over a period of about four years. The drain in that gali had meshes installed in key locations—I was told by Muzaffar, an old resident of the area—that are simple to clean and easy to replace. The drain does not flood, and there is no standing water in the gali—all water drains itself because of the slope in the floor design.
The fact that government intervention has been ineffective in helping the local community is not news. That has been the report ever since the Punjab government started work in the Walled City. People compare the government’s work with what AKTC did for the gali-next-door and they are left with an abiding ill-feeling toward the government.
But the difference here seems to be not one of resources but of approach. AKTC approached this work to not only restore the historic environment but also to improve the quality of life of the local residents, who have a direct stake in these buildings. The plans to renovate this historic site which were also homes and workplaces were drawn in close consultation with the people who lived there and made practical use of the space.
In my conversations with the residents of the area recently, the matter seemed to boil down to something even more basic. It is a question of how the various external bodies are looking at the place and its people. The government of Punjab looks at the Walled City as a potential tourist site that could be made even more touristy with the right kind of investment. What is missing in this manner of looking is a deeper concern and care for the local residents because if the government looks at the work as an investment then it wants a quick return on it. No wonder then the government work concerns itself mainly with the frippery: façades, the ‘historic look and feel’, so that tourists—both local and foreign—could visit the place and feel themselves in the presence of something historical. “We are not going to carry out interior works; our focus is on façades, streets, electricity and sanitation works,” Shahid Durrani, Project Director of the Project Management Unit (PMU), was quoted as saying in a fine report on the Walled City by Masood Kaleem for The Herald in August 2012. “We will work inside of those houses where residents have altered the original buildings.”
The main problem when you look closely and carefully is that it takes time. Building trust with people takes an even longer period of time. And by all accounts, the AKTC has respected that fact in their work. It worked gradually over a relatively long period of time, building relationships with the residents and educating them about the value in the improvement of their own historic built environment. They worked with the assumption that altering space which has been home for many decades to so many people is a grave undertaking, and that ought to be respected. As a consequence, two years after the project was completed, the locals openly regard the AKTC project leaders as one of their own family members. If there was ever a better testament to genuine development work, I want to know about it.
The government, on the other hand, has operated differently. Perennially short on time and low on commitment, it worked on short deadlines and through many different contractors—each with a particular thing to ‘fix up’ according to a plan which has received little input from the residents. It sits blind to the fact that if sewage overflows, it does so for everybody—locals and tourists notwithstanding. And if that happens a bit too much, there will be a zero return on this investment.

Bilal Tanweer is a writer and translator. His novel The Scatter Here Is Too Great was published by Random House India. It is forthcoming by Jonathan Cape (UK), Harper Collins (US) and Editions Stock (France) in August 2014. He teaches at LUMS.