Over a decade ago, I saw a movie titled The Mist. It showed a town that one fine day woke up to a strange mist; it seemed like fog to the residents but also felt different, owing to the strong sense of foreboding they felt.

A few weeks ago, I felt the same uneasiness I had felt while watching that movie. As I left home to drop my son at school, the entire city of Lahore seemed to be enveloped in a strange smoke. Like an unwelcome guest, this year the ‘annual’ smog showed up earlier than expected and with an unprecedented intensity. As I opened my car door to let my son out, I felt the same sense of foreboding felt by the characters in The Mist.

The onset of winter in 2016 was the first time that Lahore saw smog. Visually, it felt like fog that had come early. But once the deadly physical symptoms began — coughing, itching eyes and breathing problems — the word smog was brought up by the media. It was during this time that the then Lahore High Court chief justice, Mansoor Ali Shah, took suomotu notice of the situation, summoned the Environment Protection Department and directed it to formulate a policy to improve air quality.

The EPD handed over a report after the second episode took place in 2017, stating that the Government of Punjab had approved it. However, as the situation was grave, the court, unsatisfied, told the government to prepare an emergency action plan. This was prepared the same day and implemented as the Smog Health Emergency Action Plan. The same year, the government imposed a blanket ban on brick kilns, crop residue burning and smoke emitting industries till December.

Whether or not blanket bans can be called a mature policy is a topic for another column. The fact of the matter is that a huge burden of failure rests upon the authorities that have been devising policies since 2016. In 2024, the Air Quality Index has gone up till 2,500. As I write this column, the air quality is 67 times more than the World Health Organisation’s air quality guideline value, and it isn’t even a ‘bad’ day.

Earlier this month, as the AQI levels went up to four digits for the first time in the history of the country, the government, frenzied and shaken by the alarming situation, shut down schools and colleges till further notice. While this was an appropriate reaction, given the hazardous air quality, with Lahore being the top ranked polluted city in the world, it was also nothing short of a situation of extreme despair. One wonders, if our children remain at home three months in the summer and give or take two months in the winter, will they ever be able to compete in any way with children in other, healthier, parts of the world.

Maybe the children are smarter than us and realise this, too. On November 7, a three year old girl, AmalSukhera, filed a petition in the Lahore High Court seeking enforcement of the country’s environmental laws. Another petition was written and sent to the prime minister by MahadAnis, an Aichisonian in the final year of school, requesting the implementation of the environmental policies that have now been in the books for an embarrassing number of years. This was circulated by him to family, friends and strangers to add a substantial number of signatures before being sent to the PM.

The children understand the gravity of the situation. We can only hope the authorities do too. While the government may say that it is doing its best to tackle the situation, it is clear that their best is not enough. Eight long years later, there is still no yearly maintenance of cars made mandatory; there is no fuel testing taking place; no heavy fines levied on industries failing to comply with environmental policies; and none of the promised emission control systems for industries being installed.

It is safe to say that there is only so much the neighbouring countries can be blamed for. It is high time there was some heavy introspection as well.

NushmiyaSukhera is a freelance writer based in Lahore. She can be reached at n.sukhera@columbia.edu