In recent months, Temu has flooded Pakistan’s digital space with aggressive and persistent advertising campaigns. From YouTube and TikTok to Facebook and Google, the international e-commerce platform has used its capacity to spend in dollars to dominate online visibility, overshadowing local competitors and saturating consumer feeds with offers of steep discounts and limited-time deals. This overwhelming presence has prompted a surge in user traffic, but as orders begin to arrive, many Pakistani shoppers are expressing frustration. Concerns are mounting over misleading listings, inconsistent product quality, and a customer service experience that offers little in the way of resolution when problems arise.
“My order showed as delivered, but nothing arrived,” said a buyer in Karachi. “There was no way to reach a real person, just a bot that kept telling me to contact the courier. I had no idea how to even reach them. No office. No alternate number. Just one helpline probably flooded with other complaints. After days of trying, the courier finally picked up and admitted my parcel had fallen apart in transit. They handed me broken items in a random plastic bag and told me to file a return. Had I not chased it myself, no one would have taken responsibility. Temu just kept backing their word over mine.”
Temu’s recent challenges in larger markets may explain its growing focus on emerging countries like Pakistan. In the United States, the platform is facing multiple lawsuits and federal investigations. Across Southeast Asia, regulators have begun pushing back, with Indonesia banning the app, Vietnam suspending its operations, and Uzbekistan blocking access altogether. In South Korea, authorities have imposed significant fines on Temu for violations related to user data privacy and product safety concerns. With mounting scrutiny in these regions, Temu is now turning to markets where regulatory enforcement is limited and consumer protection frameworks remain underdeveloped.
“There was a flash sale on a pair of heels I really liked, but the timer was counting down and there was no way to view buyer reviews or zoom in on the pictures,” said a university student in Lahore. “I rushed to buy it because it said ‘Only 2 left.’ When it arrived, it looked nothing like the photo. The heel was a completely different design. The quality was awful. Heels need to be sturdy but mine were so flimsy that I cannot even think of wearing them once.”
Many users describe Temu’s interface as one that encourages rushed decisions. With countdown timers, limited stock labels, and minimal access to reviews or detailed product specifications, customers feel pressured to make purchases without enough information, akin to the psychological triggers found in gambling environments. These elements tap into the brain’s reward system, encouraging repetitive engagement and potentially leading to compulsive shopping behaviours. This has led to widespread disappointment, especially in categories like clothing, where quality and texture matter a lot.
“The dress looked beautiful on the model, flowy and structured,” shared a customer in Faisalabad. “There was no mention of the fabric. When it arrived, it was almost like an unstitched piece of shiny polyester which had an awful smell. It looked like a joke to me. No flare, no volume, nothing. I have bought better material from a local bazaar.”
Temu currently operates in Pakistan without a registered local office, warehouse, or dedicated customer service team. It relies on overseas shipping and automated support, with most queries routed through a chatbot or generic helpline. In the absence of physical infrastructure or local oversight, customers are often left with little recourse when problems arise.
While its prices may be among the lowest in the market, Pakistani users are beginning to question whether the platform can deliver on reliability and value. In a country where consumers are increasingly turning to online platforms but remain wary of scams and poor service, Temu’s approach is beginning to test the limits of patience.
“Temu may be cheap, but if what I get is unusable, it’s not a bargain, it’s a waste,” said a Karachi buyer. For many, the question is no longer how much they are saving but whether the experience is worth the risk.
