You find something you like on Temu—a hair accessory for Rs.200. But when you try to check out, the app won’t let you. Unless you spend a minimum of Rs.2,000, your order isn’t going anywhere. So, you start adding more: a water bottle, maybe some socks, a phone stand. Ten times the price you planned, just to meet the minimum order.
“I just wanted one thing,” shares a university student from Lahore. “I liked a pair of sunglasses that were around Rs.5,000, but Temu wouldn’t ship it unless I spent 2,000. So I added random things I didn’t really need. When the box came, one item was cracked and the sunglasses—the whole reason I placed the order—were scratched and bent. At that point, the entire order felt like a waste.”
This experience echoes those of many Pakistanis who feel shortchanged by Temu’s promises of convenience and affordability. Behind the aggressive advertising and slashed prices lies a system that’s proving unreliable at best—and exploitative at worst.
“I ordered this cute-looking storage basket for my makeup,” says a working professional in Lahore. “It looked like a decent size in the pictures, but when it arrived, it was barely bigger than a pencil case. I went back to check the listing, and the measurements were buried in the fine print. It felt deceptive. I wouldn’t have paid even half the price if I’d known how tiny it actually was.”
Temu doesn’t offer a helpline or live customer support. Most users are left dealing with automated responses, delayed replies, and refund processes that drag on for weeks—if they’re processed at all. Worse yet, there’s no Cash on Delivery option, a major drawback in a market where upfront digital payments are still met with hesitation.
“I’d ordered artificial flowers to decorate our home for Eid,” says a newlywed from Karachi. “They looked so elegant in the pictures—perfect for our first Eid together. But when they arrived, the petals were crushed, the colors were dull, and parts had broken off during shipping. I just threw most of them away and used whatever little I could salvage. I didn’t even bother returning them because the return process is even more tedious than the order itself.”
Globally, Temu is already facing criticism. In the U.S., weekly user engagement has dropped by 19% over the past year. In Europe, it’s under investigation for antitrust violations, with accusations of enforcing pricing controls on sellers. These issues reflect a growing pattern of instability in Temu’s business model: deep discounts, inconsistent quality, and long-distance logistics that compromise customer satisfaction.
In Pakistan, where e-commerce is still building credibility, Temu’s strategy feels mismatched. Consumers expect responsive service, clear refund policies, and trustworthy fulfilment. Instead, they get countdown timers that never end, inflated discount tags, and vague conditions attached to “free” gifts.
As more users speak out, it’s becoming clear that Temu’s cut-price appeal comes with hidden costs. If a customer spends four times more than they planned, only to receive broken products and silence in return, the savings don’t count for much. Until the platform adapts to meet the expectations of Pakistani consumers, trust will remain out of reach, and so will repeat customers.
