Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Submit Guest Post

The murky world of Pakistan's illegal kidney trade

When Pakistani authorities burst into a makeshift hospital in Lahore this year, doctors were caught mid-way through two illegal kidney transplants, the local donors and Omani clients still unconscious on the tables.

The doctors were allowed to finish the operation then arrested, along with their assistants and the Omanis, in a raid Pakistani authorities say is a turning point in their battle against organ trafficking.


Pakistan has long been an international hub for the illegal kidney trade, but medical and local authorities complain they have been unable to act against the practice, frustrated by ineffective enforcement policies and what they perceive as a lack of political will to crack down.

Organ donation is legal so long as it is voluntary, given without duress or the exchange of money.

Pakistani clerics have ruled it Islamic, but a lack of awareness and the pervasive belief that it is taboo for Muslims mean there is a shortage of those willing to donate.

The limited supply, observers say, sees Pakistan's wealthy routinely exploit its millions of poor with the help of an organ trade mafia.

Kidneys can be bought so cheaply that overseas buyers are also tapped in, largely from the Gulf, Africa and the United Kingdom.

In many countries such trafficking is confined to the shadows, in Pakistan -- it is brazen.

Within minutes of entering the lobby of an upmarket general hospital in the capital Islamabad, staff helped find a so-called "agent" who offered to get a donor and facilitate government approval for a kidney transplant, all for a tidy $23,000.

The government's Human Organs Transplant Authority (HOTA) says it is toothless. If a donor claims they give their consent, "there is nothing else we can do", says Dr Suleman Ahmed, a HOTA monitoring officer.

But the April 30 raid in Lahore was the beginning of a new clampdown, suggests Jamil Ahmad Khan Mayo, a deputy director of the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA).

Enforcement of current laws was in the hands of provincial authorities -- and thus restricted by provincial boundaries -- until March of this year, when those limits were removed by the decision to assign the powerful FIA to such cases, he explains.

In the Lahore case, all 16 people arrested remain behind bars as the investigation continues. They face up to a decade in prison.

"By this raid we would like to send a strong message abroad that Pakistan is no longer a safe haven for (illegal) kidney transplantation," Ahmad says.

Experts suggest there is a need to tackle the root causes of the rampant underground industry.

"This illegal trade benefits the rich and elites of the country," says Mumtaz Ahmed, head of nephrology at the government-run Benazir Bhutto hospital in Rawalpindi.

Ahmed, a member of a government investigation commission on the kidney trade, claims that is why lawmakers are unwilling to enforce penalties. FIA officials have vowed they will be indiscriminate in their bid to end organ trafficking.

Some 25,000 people suffer kidney failure each year in Pakistan, but just 10 per cent receive dialysis and a mere 2.3 per cent are able to get a transplant, according to the Sindh Institute of Urology and Transplant (SIUT), a regional leader in kidney transplants headquartered in Karachi.

"Many people come to us in government hospitals and bring their family donors willing to donate kidneys," says Ahmed.

"Then suddenly they shift to private hospitals when they learn that they can buy a kidney from there."

The high demand creates a market that inhabitants of Pakistan's vast rural areas see as an opportunity to drag themselves out of poverty.

Employed in factories, fields and brick kilns, they borrow money from employers for medical bills or to raise children, but are unable to repay their debt.

Instead they are forced to work it off in a never-ending cycle of bonded labour -- one they hope to break with the income from selling their organs.

Bushra Bibi, stiff with the pain she has suffered since selling her kidney years ago, is one of them.

Crying softly, Bibi recounts how her father needed the money for medical treatment and to pay off a loan -- so, 12 years ago, she sold her organ for 110,000 rupees ($1,000).

With her father-in-law in the same predicament, her husband followed suit. But their desperate move has left them in chronic pain, struggling to work and care for their five children, and as a result owing even more money than when they began.

"I can't sweep, people talk about me when I can't finish my work," Bibi says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The agony of giving birth after her kidney operation, she says, is "known to me only and my God".

Bibi and her family live in the fertile Sargodha district of Punjab province, where Pakistan's best oranges are produced.

It is also a region where so many families have been caught up in the kidney trade that resident Malik Zafar Iqbal says he has formed a union to fight for donors' rights.

Showing AFP documents with hundreds of names listed, he says he has met with authorities, but not yet managed to achieve better conditions for members.

"I sold my kidney for 104,000 rupees. One hardly gets enough," he says.

Add EasternEye As Your Trusted Source
preferred source on google news

More For You

Tackling hostility against Muslims matters for everyone

Anti immigration protesters attend the 'Glasgow Reclaims The Streets From Far-right Hatred And Violence' anti-racism protest on June 13, 2026 in Glasgow, Scotland.

Getty Images

Tackling hostility against Muslims matters for everyone

Sunder Katwala

Born in the mid-1970s I felt part of a lucky generation, which gained from pushing back the overt racism of that era. When we talk about stronger “social norms”, what we mean is that few people thought that monkey chants at the football or racist jokes on the telly were normal anymore – while more had Asian and black colleagues, neighbours and friends.

That past progress is put to the test today. A terrible crime in Belfast saw organised efforts at indiscriminate racist attacks on migrants and ethnic minorities, whose only connection to the crime was the colour of their skin. Those seeking to make racism fashionable again have the online megaphone of the world’s richest man, Elon Musk, on their side.

Past progress could be experienced unevenly, too. Being of mixed Indian and Irish Catholic parentage, I saw both identities rise in status once the BBC comedy Goodness Gracious Me inverted who could tell the jokes, and peace broke out in Northern Ireland. Yet, British Muslims of my generation felt under more intense scrutiny after the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

Efforts to tackle anti-Muslim hatred risked being stalled by arguments over what to call it and how to define it. The government’s new definition of anti-Muslim hostility seeks to transcend the confusion that the term “Islamophobia” could generate. But the challenge is not just to define the prejudice – but to find effective ways to shrink it.

There are sobering findings on the starting points in new research from British Future and the British Muslim Trust. More than half of British Muslims report experiencing prejudice based on their religion last year – a quarter in person and over a third online. A third of the public hold mostly negative views. One in six endorse sweeping and often indiscriminate hostility. Anti-Muslim hostility can have about twice the social reach as prejudice against other faith or ethnic minorities.

Tackling this hostility cannot be the responsibility of Muslims alone. It will take a whole-of-society effort. After all, this is foundationally about the attitudes towards a six per cent minority group, held among the 94 per cent of us who are not Muslim.

Keep ReadingShow less