PAKISTAN ZINDABAD

Pakistan’s Electric Journey: Are We Ready to Plug In?

By: Shoaib Hassan

By now, we all know it — climate change isn’t some distant threat creeping up on us; it’s here, burning our skin and suffocating our cities. When Jacobabad hits 50°C, when Lahore’s air feels like sludge, and when Karachi’s streets trap heat like ovens, you can’t call it a warning anymore. It’s our present. And in this present, the conversation about electric vehicles (EVs) isn’t about trends or technology — it’s about survival.

Globally, the shift from fuel to electric is picking up pace. From sleek sedans to battered delivery bikes, transport is going electric. And while Pakistan isn’t racing ahead, it’s certainly not standing still. The wheels are turning — just not fast enough, and definitely not smoothly.

So where do we stand, and more importantly, can we actually make this transition stick?


The slow, hopeful start

Pakistan’s EV numbers are modest — less than 0.2% of all registered vehicles. Blink, and you’ll miss it. But that 0.2% represents the first crack in the dam. The government’s focus has rightly been on two- and three-wheelers, the true backbone of urban mobility here. Of 57 EV licenses issued, most are for electric bikes, scooters, and rickshaws. Last year, nearly 33,000 rolled out onto our streets — a small but meaningful start.

But let’s be honest: it’s hard to get excited when the infrastructure simply isn’t there. Fewer than 20 public charging stations for a population of over 220 million? That’s not a system; that’s a symbol. Promises are being made — 3,000 stations, 100km apart on highways, fast chargers popping up by end-2025 — but these are plans, not reality. And the gap between policy papers and street-level experience is where public trust falters.


The early adopters: pioneers or guinea pigs?

On Karachi’s roads, you’ll see a few EV pioneers — a delivery guy on a silent black bike, a student confidently weaving through traffic on her white scooter, an office worker with a used EV sedan eyeing the next charging point on his Google Maps. These people are the face of Pakistan’s electric present: curious, hopeful, but cautious.

Most of them charge at home. Most of them have backup plans. And most are still asking: what if this doesn’t work out? What if the chargers break down or disappear? What if resale is a nightmare? These aren’t paranoid questions — they’re valid. Because so far, the system hasn’t earned their full trust.


Where the real opportunity lies

Forget the handful of EV sedans in DHA garages. The real EV revolution will (or won’t) happen on Pakistan’s two and three wheels. Over 26 million motorcycles and millions of rickshaws — that’s where emissions choke our cities, that’s where affordability matters most, and that’s where the biggest impact can be made.

And it’s already started. Companies like ezBike are converting petrol bikes to electric, cutting costs and making EVs viable for everyday Pakistanis. Mode Mobility is designing bikes for local conditions, not just rebadging cheap imports. This is the kind of thinking that can work here — homegrown, durable, and suited to our rough, unpredictable streets.


What’s holding us back?

Infrastructure is one hurdle, but policy confusion is another. Taxing larger EV batteries (and therefore better range) at higher rates makes little sense when range anxiety is one of the biggest obstacles. Meanwhile, loose regulation could flood the market with poorly tested imports, creating more pollution headaches rather than solving them.

And let’s not forget the grid. Can we handle thousands of new EVs charging at once? What happens when demand spikes during a heatwave and everyone’s trying to power their homes and their rides?


The next 18 months: our make-or-break moment

Right now, Pakistan is somewhere between curiosity and commitment. There’s no doubt that momentum is building, but it’s fragile. The next 18 to 24 months will be critical. We’ll see whether policies translate into action, whether chargers actually get built, and whether people beyond the early adopters start to believe in the promise of electric.

If we get this right — if we align policies, infrastructure, financing, and manufacturing — we could see a real shift, starting with the two- and three-wheelers that define our cities. If we don’t, EVs risk becoming another “elite experiment” — good for headlines, but irrelevant to the millions who need them most.

So, is Pakistan ready to plug in? The short answer: we’d better be. Because the heat, the pollution, and the costs of standing still are only going to get worse.