Pakistani Shahzad Iqbal abandoned the jet-set lifestyle of a corporate executive because he wanted to do something worthwhile for his country. So he invested his life savings in world-class bull semen.
He imports the sperm from potent bulls in the West, with names like Socrates, Air Raid and Liberator, and sells it at affordable prices to farmers so they can breed cows that produce higher volumes of quality milk.
Iqbal is one of a band of trailblazers — from small-town entrepreneurs to managers in multinational companies — who want to transform Pakistan’s ramshackle dairy industry into a multi-billion dollar enterprise.
“It’s going to take a revolution to turn it around,” said Iqbal, as his farm workers moved metal cylinders filled with liquefied nitrogen gas that store the semen at minus-196°C.
If Iqbal and his comrades can succeed in their mission to overturn centuries-old practices and introduce modern techniques, they could open the door to a revolution in the livelihoods of millions of impoverished farmers.
The dismal state of the dairy industry is a striking example of Pakistan’s habit of missing opportunities throughout a 65-year history tainted by military coups, political infighting and a form of crony capitalism that has stifled entrepreneurship.
With 63 million cows and buffaloes, Pakistan has one of the world’s biggest herds, but it cannot export milk because the animals’ yields are so low. Preoccupied by power struggles and tension with the army, successive governments have failed to realize the potential of the sector, which engages about 35 million people, or 20 percent of the population, in direct or related work. While other countries worked on ways to improve livestock gene pools, fodder and veterinary medicine, Pakistan largely left its farmers to fend for themselves over the decades.
The result is a haphazard supply chain riddled with inefficiencies stretching from the cow’s udder all the way to the tea cup.
The challenge for Iqbal and his fellow pioneers starts with men like 65-year-old Abdul Rashid, a farmer limping along with a cane made from a branch, trying to keep up with his cows and buffaloes wandering through flooded fields in Punjab, Pakistan’s agricultural heartland.
Unlike in the West, where livestock is neatly organized in high-tech farms for maximum efficiency, Pakistan’s dairy industry is fragmented.
The majority of suppliers are individual farmers who own three or four cows and buffaloes and are scattered in remote villages along crumbling roads or cart tracks.
There is no modern marketing system, so it is up to the farmers to find a buyer for their meager yields.
“I have no one to turn to for help,” Rashid said as he struggled to stop his animals wandering across a road. “I spend my time chasing my animals and they don’t give me enough milk to improve my family’s life.”
Rashid and millions of farmers like him rely on middlemen, or dodhis in Urdu, to sell their milk to households, transporting it in rusty cans tied to old Yamaha motorcycles.
In the potholed town of Sahiwal, dodhis dropped dirty ice cubes into the churns. Dead flies floated on the surface, a reminder of the bacteria that often contaminates Pakistan’s milk supplies.
“Nothing has changed in 40 years,” said one of the middlemen, Mohammed Akram, 55, wearing worn-out plastic sandals and standing near a pile of fetid garbage. “We get up at four in the morning to buy the milk, two kilograms from here, four kilograms from there. We get it from far and wide. It’s a lot of hard work.”