Features
Apr 07, 2026
A grassroots solar boom in Pakistan, exemplified by farmer Karim Baksh’s switch from diesel‑pumped …
Karim Baksh of Dasht, a remote Balochistan village, once relied on a diesel‑powered pump to irrigate his watermelon fields. After the 2022 Russia‑Ukraine war drove diesel prices sky‑high, he could no longer afford the fuel, forcing him to cut back his cultivated area.
In 2023 he took a gamble: borrowing 300,000 Pakistani rupees (≈ $1,075) from relatives and installing a modest row of solar panels. Three years later, the panels run his pump without diesel, letting him water his crops even as global oil markets tumble amid the US‑Israel war on Iran and the temporary closure of the Strait of Hormuz, through which 20% of world oil and gas normally flows.
Baksh’s experience reflects a broader national shift. Pakistan imports about 80% of its oil via the Hormuz chokepoint and sources 99% of its LNG from Qatar and the UAE. A Council on Foreign Relations report warns that a prolonged closure could trigger severe power shortages, factory shutdowns, and transport disruptions.
Yet a quiet solar revolution is building resilience. Since 2018, rooftop solar installations have saved Pakistan over $12 billion in fuel imports, and at current prices the sector is projected to save another $6.3 billion this year alone.
According to the independent think‑tank EMBER, solar’s share of the national energy mix surged from 2.9% in 2020 to 32.3% in 2025. This growth is not the result of a single government plan but of millions of individual decisions—farmers swapping diesel pumps, businesses installing panels, and households seeking reliable electricity.
In urban centres such as Lahore and Karachi, solar rooftops are commonplace. Homeowners typically recoup installation costs within a few years, enjoy free electricity thereafter, and can even sell surplus power back to the grid through net‑metering. By 2025, 25% of Pakistani households use solar in some form, up from 15% in 2023, with over 280,000 consumers now participating in net‑metering schemes.
However, the benefits are uneven. The upfront cost of a 3 kW system—about 450,000 rupees ($1,610)—and larger commercial setups costing up to 2.2 million rupees ($7,874) remain out of reach for many low‑income families. Analysts warn that non‑solar users, largely poorer households, are subsidising the grid usage of solar owners. Net‑metering has already shifted an estimated 159 billion rupees (≈ $570 million) of costs onto other consumers, raising concerns about a two‑tier energy system.
The rapid expansion is powered largely by imports from China, which controls roughly 80% of the global solar supply chain. Chinese lithium‑ion batteries, now 20% cheaper than in 2024, enable storage for nighttime use, further reducing reliance on the national grid.
Solar panel prices have plummeted: from 100‑120 rupees per watt in the early 2010s to about 30 rupees per watt today. This price collapse, combined with electricity shortages and rising tariffs after the 2022 oil price spike, made solar an attractive alternative for those able to invest.
Government policy has been mixed. A 2015 net‑metering scheme encouraged adoption by offering roughly 25 rupees ($0.090) per kilowatt‑hour for exported power and by reducing import taxes on panels. More recently, concerns over the financial strain on the power sector led to a cut in the buy‑back rate to about 10 rupees ($0.036) per kilowatt‑hour.
For Baksh, the policy shifts matter little. His solar‑powered pump guarantees water for his watermelons regardless of diesel price swings or geopolitical turmoil. He plans to expand his solar array, increase production, and ship his harvest to larger markets in Quetta and Karachi.
In a region where temperatures can soar to 51 °C (124 °F), the sun has become a reliable ally—ensuring that, for farmers like Baksh, “the water keeps flowing no matter what.”