A few days ago, I watched a boy no older than 10 or 12 dragging a sack of garbage larger than his own body. He was doing what thousands of children across Pakistan do every day, collecting recyclable waste to earn a living. Suddenly, several street dogs began barking. Moments later, they chased him. The boy ran, clutching his bag, disappearing into a narrow alley. No one intervened. The street returned to normal.
For that child, danger is routine.
Children who survive by collecting garbage live at the sharp edge of multiple deprivations. Their right to safety is compromised. Their right to health is constantly threatened. Their right to childhood itself is absent. Working in open waste exposes them to disease, sharp objects, and toxic material. Increasingly, it also exposes them to aggressive street dogs drawn to garbage piles and food waste.
This danger is no longer anecdotal.
In January, at least 11 people, including four children, were mauled by suspected rabid dogs in Wah’s Sadat Colony and surrounding areas. The children were bitten on their faces and foreheads. Adults suffered injuries to their hands and legs. Health officials suspected the involvement of a rabid dog and rushed the victims for emergency treatment. Authorities responded by launching an operation in which at least 16 stray dogs were killed (Dawn, January 15, 2026).
The scale of the crisis is even more evident in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Official data shows that more than 87,000 dog bite cases were reported across the province in 2025, up from just over 60,000 the previous year. Districts such as Mardan, Swat, Lakki Marwat and Lower Dir recorded thousands of cases. Even Peshawar saw a dramatic surge. Health officials acknowledge that many incidents likely go unreported, particularly in poorer and remote areas (The News, December 30, 2025).
These attacks are not random.
Stray dogs are drawn to unmanaged waste. Garbage remains exposed in streets and dumps. Children who collect recyclables carry open bags filled with food scraps. They work early in the morning or late in the evening, when dogs are most active. When dogs bark or chase, children run. The pattern is predictable. So is the risk.
Yet, the response remains largely reactive.
In Karachi, the mayor recently stated that the city was nearing a tipping point due to rising dog bite cases. He argued that people in many neighbourhoods were demanding immediate relief and that authorities could not ignore their concerns. Around the same time, district administrations in Punjab reported extensive crackdowns. In Rahim Yar Khan alone, more than 2,500 stray dogs were culled in a week as part of a safety drive targeting high risk areas such as residential colonies, schools and marketplaces (The Nation, January 5, 2026).
These actions reflect urgency. They also raise an uncomfortable question.
Is this the only way the state responds, after injuries occur and fear spreads? And if dog populations are repeatedly reduced without addressing the conditions that attract them, what changes for those most at risk?
Nowhere is this exposure more glaring than in the lives of street-working children.
These children are not choosing danger; it is imposed on them. When a child is forced to earn a living by sorting through garbage, the state has already failed in its duty of protection. When that same child is chased or bitten by dogs drawn to the waste he carries, the failure compounds. The question, then, is not merely how to control stray dogs, but why children remain unprotected in spaces the state knows are dangerous.
Protecting the most vulnerable requires more than emergency crackdowns. The state must ensure safer waste disposal and control of stray dog populations through vaccination and sterilisation. Municipal bodies need to be held accountable. Immediate safeguards should be implemented to protect those at risk, particularly children and adults who are most vulnerable.
Over time, the issue of children working in garbage and other vulnerable situations must be addressed. This requires tackling the problem through measures such as social protection, access to education, and support for families.
Until that happens, stray dog attacks will continue to be treated as isolated crises, rather than symptoms of deeper neglect. And children like the boy who ran down that alley will remain unseen until they, too, become a statistic.