Twenty paisas can mean the difference between development and disaster in the telecom sector, writes Huma Yusuf.

Talking thumbs, attractive girls giving away their phone numbers, crazy nights with strange autobots and choreographed dances in dhabas – advertising for cellphones and mobile connection packages during the Twenty20 World Cup has been aggressive, and, at times, absurd. It’s also apt that the ads that have had most play during the matches get at the heart of what Pakistanis enjoy the most: cricket, carnal relations and cellphone connectivity. The fact is, telecom companies can afford to splash their ads in these prime spots because their business is buzzing – Pakistan wants cellular connectivity, now!

The announcement of a 20-paisa tax on SMS messaging threatens to burst this bubble. Every day, Pakistanis exchange between 300 and 500 million SMS messages, which means the government will siphon off Rs 100 million daily thanks to this measure – they want us to be ‘taxting’, not texting.

Telecom companies expect SMS traffic to decline sharply post-tax, causing their revenues to take a hit. As a result, they’re hopping mad, and are planning to meet with the finance ministry to petition for the withdrawal of the tax. The telecom providers are going to point out that it’s absurd to tax a service more than its actual value, and that the vitality of the telecom sector is at stake as a result of the new tax (I suspect the accountants at these companies are horrified at the prospect of charging separately for each text message sent, as opposed to charging a flat rate for unlimited messaging). You can judge the level of their desperation by the fact that industry representatives have pulled out the ‘handicap-friendly’ card, and can be heard reminding the government and media that deaf and dumb people benefit greatly from SMS messaging services. If the presentations and pleas fail, cellphone users can expect a sharp raise in SMS rates, the cancellation of many discount packages, and far less advertising on television.

Users, who have yet to be hit with jacked SMS rates, are becoming sentimental at the thought of less text messages in their lives. No more ‘Eid Moo-baa-rak’ messages on Eidul Azha, no more politically relevant Ahmed Faraz poetry, no more birthday messages, no more ‘I want to make frandshp with u – plz cl’ messages, and, worst of all, no more bawdy Zardari jokes.

In tried and true Pakistani fashion, conspiracy theories are running amuck. Some people believe the taxation is a sly government effort to save higher-ups from the ridicule that is customary in widely forwarded SMS jokes. ‘They’ve lost their sense of humour,’ railed one gentleman who spends a lot of time texting jokes about our politicians – their appearance, verbal slip-ups and strange proclivities. Others believe that the clampdown on text messaging is a way to curtail the culture of protest and resistance that has mobilised the world’s youth. In the wake of the lawyers’ movement (largely enabled by SMS text messages that clarified logistics) and post-election street protests in Iran, governments are scared of young activists, texting their way to freedom and glory.

Of course, the government would quickly debunk this theorising by pointing out that SMS text messages are only a small part of telecom sector’s revenues. Texts are also dismissed as a distraction that young urbanites are obsessed with, rather than a mainstream connectivity feature. They abide by the old logic that the bulk of Pakistanis – especially those in the rural areas – still make phone calls and won’t be affected by a spike in SMS rates.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Across the world, SMS text messages are being harnessed in development initiatives that specifically target illiterate or semi-literate, rural populations. In Kenya, cash aid is delivered directly to beneficiaries via mobile phone. Aid recipients have to register their SIM cards with the distribution system. When cash aid becomes available, recipients receive a text message and simply visit a nearby outlet to collect their cash directly. This system ensures that there are no bureaucratic delays in aid distribution and gives donors the confidence of having direct access to aid beneficiaries.

In Bangladesh, CellBazaar brings the market to your pocket using SMS text messaging: users send text messages to a universal number to post items for sale, look for items to buy and determine market prices of products or services. This service helps people in rural areas charge competitive prices for their goods; cut back on transport charges by skipping days-long trips to the market; and expand the variety of goods that they are able to trade in.

In Chile, rural populations with little access to computers can now get farming advice – as well as national and international farming news and information about weather and pricing – via SMS text message thanks to a project called DatAgro. When the pilot project kicked off, developers were surprised to realise that although 90 per cent of all Chileans own cellphones, most of them did not know how to send and receive text messages. Instead of abandoning the project (or worse, hiking taxes to ensure that SMS text messages would always remain a side feature for the benefit of hip and trendy youngsters in major cities), the pilot study group began extensive training sessions. Farmers were taught how to open and delete messages and realise when they had received a message.

When the bigwigs of the telecom sector approach the finance ministry to advocate for the removal of this tax, they should not whine about decreased revenues. Instead, they should make an appeal for the power of SMS text messages as a development tool. Quoting examples like the ones cited above, they should remind our government that text messages – and other cellphone connectivity features – can aid in social uplift and help bring Pakistan’s rural population into the twenty-first century. Most importantly, the telecom industry should make public commitments to implement projects such as CellBazaar and DatAgro – at their expense – if the tax is lifted. These can be tailored to address the needs of Pakistanis in the conflict-hit areas and refugee camps of the Frontier province.

Ads for such development-based SMS products may not be as sexy, but they will certainly present a better case for withdrawing the controversial 20-paisa tax.