On a bustling corner of Ichhra Bazaar, 32-year-old Imran Ali arranges his small cart stacked with second-hand mobile accessories. Just a year ago, he was working as a storekeeper in a private company—but rising inflation and a round of layoffs forced him to rethink his options. Today, like thousands of others across Lahore, Imran is part of a growing informal workforce trying to survive outside the formal economy.
Across Punjab’s capital, street vending is no longer limited to traditional setups. The city’s roadsides, footpaths, and marketplaces are now dotted with stalls offering everything from fried snacks and clothes to electronics and home goods. Many of these vendors are former salaried employees, young graduates, or even retirees—all driven to self-employment by the country’s deepening economic crisis.
“Running this cart isn’t what I dreamed of, but it keeps food on the table,” says Imran, who now earns less than half of what he used to but remains self-reliant.
A Struggling Economy, a Rising Trend
With inflation hitting a record high of over 30% in early 2023 and formal job creation slowing, Lahore’s informal economy has seen a silent surge. According to data from the Punjab Bureau of Statistics, over 60% of the province’s workforce is now engaged in informal labor a figure that’s been steadily rising since the COVID-19 pandemic and worsened by recent economic instability.
Economist Dr. Sajida Mehmood notes, “This shift reflects both the resilience and desperation of the working class. People are not waiting for jobs— hey’re creating their own, even if it means setting up a cart on the roadside.”
Unregulated, Unprotected
But while the rise in street vending may offer short-term relief, it brings long-term vulnerabilities. Street vendors operate without licenses, social security, or legal protection. They are often harassed by municipal authorities, face sudden evictions, and struggle with inconsistent incomes.
Rubina Bibi, a widow selling home-cooked meals near Jail Road, says, “The police sometimes take my utensils or fine me. I have no shop, no protection but I can’t afford to stop.”
Despite repeated calls by civil society to formalize the informal sector, little has been done to support or regulate street vendors. Lahore’s urban planning policies largely ignore them, and without official recognition, they remain invisible in government support programs.
A Gendered Reality
The trend also reveals a quiet rise in women’s informal labor. With male household earners struggling, more women especially from lower-middle-class backgrounds are entering informal entrepreneurship, running stalls or selling products from home.
“I started making rotis and selling them to nearby shops after my husband lost his job,” says Saira, a mother of three in Shahdara. “It’s tough, but at least I contribute now.”
Time for Policy, Not Penalty
Experts suggest that the government needs to shift from penalizing street vendors to supporting them. Possible interventions include simplified licensing, micro-loans, designated vending zones, and social protection schemes.
“Street vendors aren’t the problem they’re a response to the problem,” says Dr. Mehmood. “If managed well, they can become part of Lahore’s economic solution.”
As Lahore’s skyline continues to grow vertically, its economic lifelines are spreading outwards—onto pavements, traffic signals, and open markets where thousands are rewriting the rules of survival, one cart at a time.
