This used to be our playground

Cities don’t collapse overnight. In Islamabad, they collapse one park, pitch and playground at a time. What once set the capital apart from sprawling metropolises like Lahore and Karachi was its abundance of green spaces, public parks and accessible sports grounds. As construction projects expand and concrete spreads, these features that made Islamabad unique are vanishing.

What were once spaces for laughter, leisure, and family time are now being replaced by highways, commercial plots, and parking lots. Children’s playgrounds, neighbourhood cricket grounds, and football fields – foundational spaces for a healthy and connected city – are being erased in favor of car-centric ‘development’.

Take the case of Al-Muslim Cricket Ground in Sector F-11. Once a beloved cricket ground for young cricketers, it has been slowly dismantled. In 2020, its practice area was razed and replaced with residential plots. More recently, mounds of mud were dumped onto the main pitch. The Capital Development Authority (CDA) now speaks of converting it into a “multipurpose facility”.

A children’s park between sectors F-11 and F-10 near Iran Avenue has disappeared entirely. Once a lively, inclusive space, it welcomed families from all walks of life, a place where children played freely in the evenings and weekends while parents gathered on benches or strolled under the trees. It was one of the few public spaces in the city that truly belonged to everyone, with no barriers of class or cost. Today, that park is gone, buried beneath a newly constructed flyover. While wealthier families can still afford private clubs and indoor play zones, the city’s majority is left with nothing.

This is not an isolated case. In the New Blue Area, a cluster of once-thriving sports grounds has been steadily dismantled to make way for road expansion and commercial development. Two football grounds once stood side by side – one has vanished entirely and the other has been reduced to nearly half its original size.

The story is just as bleak for cricket. Of the three cricket grounds that once served the area, one has been completely erased. Now, big, tall buildings are resurrected there. Another cricket practice area has been shrunk to the size of a small driveway, with shortened boundaries of its main play area. The third ground has also lost space, with its boundary from the Fatima Jinnah Park end now only about 50 to 55 meters long, making it unfit for standard play. It is not long before these leftovers are also auctioned off to loaded real-estate developers.

Even Kachnar Park, a much-loved green refuge for residents of Sectors I-8 and I-9, has also shrunk in size. When the Islamabad Expressway was expanded, large sections of the park were swallowed by new lanes of traffic. What was once a peaceful escape for morning walkers, joggers, and families is now edged by the roar of vehicles. Locals who used to find calm beneath its trees now find themselves fenced in by asphalt, noise, and pollution.

The hockey grounds in Sectors G-9 and G-6, right next to the Itwar Bazaar, have fallen into disrepair, with no AstroTurf, no lighting, and little to no maintenance. The players play on grass, which was phased out in the 1970s. The G-9 hockey ground no longer resembles a proper hockey facility. Instead, it’s become a makeshift space where young people cobble together games of tape-ball cricket, volleyball, or informal football, not out of choice, but because there’s nowhere else to go.

And mind you, this is just the story of Zones I and III, two of Islamabad’s five designated zones. The situation in the remaining zones is even more troubling. These are dominated by private, gated housing societies for the rich, whose focus is overwhelmingly commercial. In many of these societies, parks are either limited or absent, and sports grounds are rare, if they exist at all with minimal oversight and little regard for community infrastructure. They do, however, cater to affluent residents with paid amenities like cinemas, bowling alleys, indoor gyms, and private sports lounges.

It is also pertinent to mention that even the few public sports grounds still under CDA management are not truly accessible. Those who wish to book these grounds – especially on weekends – are charged exorbitant fees, ranging from Rs30,000 to Rs40,000 per day, perhaps even more, depending on the grounds' location. These rates are far beyond the reach of most local clubs and community teams. Yet despite collecting such high fees, the upkeep remains abysmal. The pitches are maintained by makeshift curators with little expertise, and the grass, when it's cut at all, is mowed by ageing tractors that leave deep tire tracks on a fragile turf.

With every cricket pitch removed, another generation loses its launchpad. Islamabad has long produced athletes in cricket, football and perhaps hockey – not due to elite academies but because public spaces allow young people to play, train, and grow. That ecosystem is drying up at a rapid rate.

As public grounds shrink, privatised sports facilities are on the rise – but they’re not for everyone. In a city where inflation is stretching family budgets, paying Rs2,000 per hour to play paddle tennis in a private club is simply out of reach for most. For the vast majority of students, working-class youth and aspiring athletes, such prices are simply out of reach. A city cannot function like this: where recreation becomes a luxury and public infrastructure collapses while private profit flourishes. This deepening divide is not just unsustainable but unjust.

One wonders why a country of nearly 250 million people struggles to consistently produce world-class athletes like Sohail Abbas or Arshad Nadeem. The answer lies in the systemic neglect of grassroots sports infrastructure and the commodification of recreational spaces, while nations with significantly smaller populations excel on the global stage.

At the Paris 2024 Olympics, Pakistan sent a contingent of only seven athletes, a stark contrast to its vast population. In comparison, countries like New Zealand, with a population of approximately five million, secured 18 gold medals. Australia, with a population of approximately 27.3 million, achieved remarkable success at the Paris 2024 Olympics. The Australian Olympic team secured a total of 53 medals: 18 gold, 19 silver, and 16 bronze, marking the nation's most successful Olympic campaign to date.

Islamabad’s current planning philosophy treats sports and play as a luxury. The ‘babucracy’ might get their dopamine hit from the protocol they enjoy, from and the screech of sirens yelling 'Hato Bacho' But for a generation grappling with rising stress, economic insecurity, and climate anxiety, play is not optional. It is essential.

If the trend continues, Islamabad risks becoming a two-tiered city: private sports for the privileged and ruins for everyone else. The CDA and city planners must urgently reevaluate their priorities. Sports grounds and parks are not idle land; they are infrastructure for public health, talent, equity and community. Without them, the city loses more than space. It loses its soul.

The writer is an advocate for youth empowerment, climate action, and strengthening local governance.