Skip to main content

The Heating Crisis in Gilgit-Baltistan: A Burning Challenge in Chilly Winters


Deforestation, soaring fuel costs, and unchecked urban sprawl are deepening Gilgit-Baltistan’s heating and environmental crisis — a challenge that now demands national attention.

As the autumn leaves begin to fall and the chill starts to creep into the narrow valleys of Gilgit-Baltistan, the annual struggle for warmth resumes. From October 15 to March 15, every household in this mountainous region braces itself for one of the harshest winters in South Asia. Temperatures in certain valleys often plunge far below freezing, and heating becomes not merely a matter of comfort but of survival. Yet, the region’s dependence on fuelwood — its traditional source of heat — continues to erode both the environment and the economic stability of local communities.

Traditional Dependence on Fuelwood

For generations, the people of Gilgit-Baltistan have relied on fuelwood as their primary means of heating and cooking. In every home, the traditional bukhari (wood-burning stove) remains a central feature during the long, icy winter. Even government offices, schools, and other institutions have long followed the same practice, with official fuelwood quotas sanctioned per stove for the five-month winter period.

This collective dependence has, over decades, exacted a heavy toll on the region’s already lean forest cover. Groves once maintained by local communities for fuel and fodder have steadily thinned, while natural forests — sparse to begin with due to the area’s high-altitude ecology — have been subjected to unsustainable cutting.

The situation is especially critical because Gilgit-Baltistan’s forested area is limited to less than 5% of its total landmass. Each winter thus turns into a silent battle between survival and sustainability.

Rising Costs of Firewood

The economic dimension of the heating crisis has now reached alarming proportions. In Gilgit and its immediate neighborhoods, the rate of wet (unseasoned) fuelwood has reportedly climbed up to around Rs. 1,200 per maund (≈ 40 kilograms), while dry (seasoned) wood fetches up to Rs. 1,500 per maund (≈ 40 kilograms). The same quantities cost almost double in Hunza, and triple in Skardu and adjoining areas of the Baltistan region — reflecting both scarcity and the soaring cost of transportation.

The price surge has made fuelwood increasingly unaffordable for the average household. Yet, with limited alternatives, families have little choice but to continue the practice of felling trees or purchasing fuelwood at exorbitant rates to endure the cold.

A Glimpse into the Past

Until the 1960s, firewood was brought to Gilgit from nearby forests such as Harali, with donkeys serving as the primary mode of transport. Back then, the population was smaller, and the demand for wood relatively moderate. But with the passage of time, population growth, urbanization, and a shift in living standards intensified the pressure on the already fragile ecosystem.

The introduction of LPG (Liquefied Petroleum Gas) in subsequent decades brought temporary relief. For a time, it appeared to stem the tide of logging, especially in towns like Gilgit and Skardu. However, LPG cylinders remained beyond the reach of most low-income households due to their high cost and unreliable supply, particularly during winter when roads are blocked by snow or landslides.

Unabated Cutting and Environmental Toll

Consequently, the cutting of trees continues unabated, and with it, the degradation of the environment accelerates. The loss of tree cover not only diminishes the region’s scenic beauty but also exacerbates soil erosion, flash floods, and glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) — phenomena that have become increasingly frequent due to climate change.

This vicious cycle — deforestation leading to environmental instability, which in turn makes the people more vulnerable — highlights the depth of the heating crisis in Gilgit-Baltistan.

Urbanization and the Vanishing Green Cover

Adding to this environmental distress is the alarming rise in the demography of Gilgit-Baltistan. A rapid migration from rural areas to the tiny urban centers is underway, transforming the social and physical landscape at a startling pace. Barren lands are being relentlessly converted into residential zones, with construction sprawling unchecked and often without regulation.

Take Gilgit city as a striking example. Until the 1960s, it was a small, serene township, adorned with greenery, orchards, and open fields. The area exuded freshness — tree groves surrounded homes, and farmlands thrived along the riverbanks. Ironically, within just a few decades, the entire city underwent a horrific transformation, losing all traces of its verdant charm to an explosion of concrete construction.

Neighbourhoods once defined by their rural tranquility — Sonikote, Khomar, Jutal, and Konodas — have all been devoured by what is now labelled as “development.” Yet, this so-called progress has come without town planning, leaving no public spaces, no parks, and no recreational areas for the citizens. The unchecked sprawl is now continuing towards Minawar, while the entire western flank of Gilgit stands engulfed by unregulated housing.

The adjoining mega village of Danyore is also witnessing similar disturbing changes. Rows of unplanned houses and commercial units are emerging along the Karakoram Highway, mimicking the uncoordinated expansion that disfigured Gilgit. A recent instance underscores the gravity of the issue: a building inspector from the Local Government and Rural Development (LG&RD) Department handed a notice to a constructor in Danyore, directing him to obtain departmental approval for his shop plan upon paying the prescribed fee. This highlights the absence of an overarching Master Plan to guide urban growth.

One wonders why such a vital regulatory framework has not been implemented. A strictly enforceable Master Plan, if adopted, could ensure proper drainage systems, pavements, public pavilions, and urban greening — all essentials for a healthy township. It is high time that urbanization in Gilgit-Baltistan be steered by foresight, planning, and environmental sensitivity, before its unique landscape is lost forever.

The Urban–Rural Divide

The crisis is not uniform across the region. Urban centers such as Gilgit, Skardu, and Hunza have limited access to alternative energy sources, such as LPG and small-scale electricity-based heating, though these are costly. In the remote valleys and high-altitude villages, however, communities remain almost entirely dependent on fuelwood — both for heating and for year-round cooking needs.

The urban–rural disparity in energy access thus mirrors broader socioeconomic inequalities within the region. While a few well-off households can afford imported heating appliances or LPG cylinders, the majority still turn to the axe and the forest.

Towards Sustainable Solutions

The crisis calls for an urgent and multi-pronged policy response. First, there is a dire need to expand clean and affordable energy access — including the development of micro-hydropower projects, solar heating systems, and community biogas plants. Second, afforestation and community-based forest management must be revitalized to restore degraded lands.

Additionally, awareness programs emphasizing fuel-efficient stoves and insulation techniques could help reduce overall fuelwood consumption. The government’s role in subsidizing LPG in the remotest districts and ensuring its winter-time delivery would further ease the pressure on forests.

Urban centers, on the other hand, require strict building codes, urban greening programs, and regulated expansion plans to prevent environmental collapse.

Conclusion

Gilgit-Baltistan stands at a critical juncture where its struggle for warmth threatens to consume its natural wealth. Each winter’s fire burns not just wood, but also the ecological future of the region. The crisis of heating intertwines with the challenge of unplanned urbanization — together forming a dual threat to the mountains’ sustainability.

In conclusion, the issues facing Gilgit-Baltistan are not exclusively theirs. They assume national importance, as this region is recognized as the Third Pole and the environmental barometer of Pakistan. It is imperative, therefore, that a national plan be devised to address the growing problems related to the environment and the fragile mountain ecosystem — in the national interest, before it is too late.

There must be a consistent policy to introduce solar stoves and other renewable heating technologies, alongside subsidized electricity tariffs to ease the burden on the population. Mere conferences or seminars in cosy hotels discussing “ecosystems” and “climate resilience” will not serve any purpose unless practical, on-ground measures are undertaken in the true spirit of sustainable development.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Episode 1: A Window to Gilgit-Baltistan

A window to Northern Areas-I, The Muslim dated July 4, 1997. By Syed Shamsuddin   Most of our people even today seem quite oblivious of the geo-political position of Northern Areas while the exact historical background concerning Gilgit-Baltistan and where these must stand politically remains yet another subject of discussion. Not to speak of a layman, a person of the stature of Chief Executive of the country, once inquired whether the Northern Areas an integral part of the north west frontier province (NWFP). This happened when he rule the country in the aftermath of martial law. Yet another minister on Kashmir and Northern Areas, during the democratic government that followed, was pleased to tell a member of the northern areas council that he owed his minisitership not to them (Northern Areas people) but to the turbaned man of his constituency, standing at the door of his official chambers. There is infact, dearth of substantial historical evidence as to when exactly man ...

Episode 4: A Window to Gilgit-Baltistan part-1

A window to Northern Areas-IV, The Muslim dated July 7, 1997 Author: Syed Shams ud Din    The word providence in Sheena language equates with ‘bagharo’ and in this sense, it may safely be implied that the term Bagrote emanated from this word as the valley once famous for its agricultural produce, wildlife and richness in fruits hence the people living there were used to be called ‘bagharoos’ – those distributing basic necessities of life. This attribute seems to have later degenerated into Bagrote – the land of ‘bagharoos’ (distributors).  It has been noticed that the famous mythology of Gilgit is all in Brushiski which also includes that of Kirak Prince. The attribution of all the names to almost all places of what was formerly called the Brushal are a pointer to the firm hold of this kingdom in the past as a reality. The people of these areas, prior to Islam, all embraced ‘Shamanism’. A cursory glance over the ancient history of India may abundantly reveal the fa...

Episode 3: A Windows to Gilgit-Baltistan

A window to Northern Areas-III, The Muslim dated July 6,1997 Author: Syed Shamsuddin    In the ‘History of Jammu and Kashmir’ by Maulvi Hashmatullah Khan Lakhnavi, there is a mention of ancient rulers (Rajas) of Gilgit called Aghurtham and Baghurtham who have been famous rulers of Brushal. It is to be noted that the word ‘Tham’ in Brushaski means ruler. When delved deep, it transpires that the words like Berish (the land of Berish), Malokush, Kanjukush etc.,  were further embellished by the Tibetans, the Baltis and Ladakhis by pronouncing at ease as like Brushal in their own tongue. The Aghutham’s rock still lies amidst Gilgit river near Thopchar in Gilgit city which is called “Aghurthamai Giri”. Likewise, Aghurtham’s Forte is situated at Konodas, Gilgit near Gulsher Mohellah where the remains are. It has been observed that the carvings on the above rock and that of the Karagha nullah and the one at Hal Nal near Nagaral are identical and hence seem to have been engrave...