INDIA

Baba Adhav: Grassroots Campaigner, Leader of Socially Oppressed Passes Away

Sabrang India | 10 Dec 2025

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An intrepid and committed social reformer and organiser of the urban working class, labourers, domestic workers, waste-pickers, Baba Adhav of the “Ek Gaon Ek Panavtha” (One Village One Water Source/Well), who challenged the caste system, died in Pune on Monday December 8.

Baba Adhav, veteran social activist and a champion of the socially oppressed, who had fought against an oppressive cast system and for the rights of labourers, head-loaders, waste-pickers, and street vendors. Baba passed away on Monday evening after a prolonged illness in Pune, his karmabhoomi, at 96. His wife Shilatai, sons Aseem and Amber, and grandchildren survive him. A nurse by profession, theirs was a unique partnership for decades.  The mortal remains of Baba Adhav will be at Hamal Bhavan Market Yard at 10 am on Tuesday for people to pay their tributes. The last rites will be performed at 4 pm today. Baba Adhav as active until the last, even launching and participating last November in a protest against the use of the faulty electronic voting machines by observing a hunger fast. Apart from founding the Hamaal Panchayat and the Rickshaw Panchayat, he worked with the unorganised sector, especially women who were rag pickers and domestic workers. The unique community kitchen (Kashtachi Bhakar) he ran for the vast unorganised sector that was involved in his work served tasty and simple Maharashtrian fare like bkari and chutney for decades. Launched in 1974, two years after Maharashtra faced a crippling drought, the ‘Kashtachi Bhakar’ (meaning ‘bread of labour’) community kitchen system in Pune,continued to provide affordable, nutritious meals to unorganised workers.

“Social revolution also means caring and sharing and a demonstrative programme,” said Adhav when he spoke of this initiative launched after inspiration from Mahatma Gandhi (launched on Gandhi Jayanti, October 2, 1974). From one such eatery launched in 1974, forty years later, in 2014 it had expanded to 12 such in Pune provided tasty bhakaris prepared by women from working class families to close to 12,000 workers!

Widely revered as a prominent progressive leader in the socialist movement in Maharashtra who had fought against the caste system and for the rights of labourers, head-loaders, waste-pickers, and street vendors, Baba Adhav has also participated in the freedom movement, Samyukta Maharashtra movement, anti-Emergency protests, one village one water source movement (against caste system), and protests for the removal of Manu’s statue. He had also helmed a cycle rally from Pune to Delhi to seek social security for unorganised labourers.

In remembrance, Leader of Opposition (LOP), Rahul Gandhi said, “Baba Adhav was the strong pillar of social justice. He dedicated his entire life fighting for the rights of the marginalised, the exploited labourers. The flame of struggle ignited by Adhav in Pune became a torch for social justice movements across the country.”

Maharashtra Pradesh Congress Committee president Harshwardhan Sapkal wrote on X, “Carrying the torch of the truth-seeking tradition in his hand, Dr Baba Adhav, who fought against injustice in society and fought for the rights of the underprivileged throughout his life, passed away today. The progressive movement of Maharashtra has lost a major guide today. Heartfelt tribute to this fighting personality!”

As a recall of his prescience and work, we at Sabrangindia bring to you this conversation with this inspirational leader, Baba Adhav, conducted with co-editor, Teesta Setalvad in October 2014.

The interview and transcript of the Interview may be read/heard here.

Courtesy: Sabrang India

Tanzania: From “Island of Peace” Myth to Massacre

Muhemsi Mwakihwelo | 12 Dec 2025

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When the people rose up after Tanzania’s disrupted elections, they shattered a long-standing taboo: the belief that Tanzanians can only demonstrate at the state’s will.

Protests following disputed elections in Tanzania. Photo: Consolata Africa

When Issa Shivji presented the case of Tanzania’s unfolding “silent class struggle” more than five decades ago, the political terrain was still fertile enough to engage with such analysis, even if the ruling class lacked the courage to confront it.

Fast-forward to today, and that context has radically shifted. The state and much of the population have become deeply invested in superstitious neoliberal illusions, leaving little room for class-based critique. This transformation has also reinforced the power of the long-standing nationalistic slogan, “the Island of Peace,” a carefully constructed myth that masks inequality and silences dissent.

It has served the ruling class by binding society together under superficial unity, often at the expense of the legitimate aspirations of the working people. The state has milked this myth to consolidate its power, crush dissent, and silence class struggles under the refrain: “Tanzania is an island of peace”.

This myth has conflated docility with peace, fear with tolerance, and silence with harmony. It has nurtured the illusion of Tanzanian exceptionalism, claiming we are peaceful, reasonable, and uniquely unshakable as a nation. Under this ideology, thinking, speaking, or acting against injustice (primarily perpetuated by the agencies of this exploitative system and midwifed by the state) is branded “un-Tanzanian”.

Street vendors demanding the “right to city”, peasants and pastoralists resisting “land grabbing” in the name of investment or conservation, artisanal miners seeking “access to mining sites”, workers demanding “dignified working conditions”, and political groups organizing for mere “freedom of association”: all are vilified as unpatriotic when they dare to resist.

Up to October 29, the state still clung to the fantasy that the “island of peace” remained intact. But millions had already realized it was a fable, a shield for the ruling class and a sword against the majority underprivileged working people.

When people took to the streets, they shattered a long-standing taboo: the belief that Tanzanians can only demonstrate at the state’s will. Historically, resistance here has been sectoral, fragmented, and easily crushed. But the October 29 uprising shook the foundations of state power, forcing the ruling elite into panic.

The state’s violent response from October 30–November 1 revealed not only fear but also the structural pressures of a neoliberal order. Under this regime, dissent threatens entrenched networks of power and capital, where profit is valued above human life. The killings, confiscations, and intimidation were less about restoring order than about protecting the status quo.

The old belief in an “omnipotent state” has been seriously injured. As the wheel of treachery is fast spinning, and unless reversed, the winner may indeed take it all, but such victory will require ruling by the sword, not legitimacy. My wish is that, if a winner must emerge, it should be the working people, the underprivileged majority.

Catalyzed by impunity and double standards

The post-socialist era, the return of multiparty politics, and the expansion of the NGO sector introduced new challenges that the ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi (english: “Party of the Revolution”: CCM) bureaucracy could not easily control. The new political culture opened space for criticism, even shaming. Yet both the opposition and NGOs, despite their rhetoric, often share the same neoliberal ideological foundations as CCM. So they’re best at shaming one another rather than constructively criticizing one another.

As a counter-strategy, the CCM perfected a quasi-apartheid approach: curtailing the opposition’s influence while deepening mass subordination. Many cadres are known to openly boast that CCM membership guarantees immunity from breaking the law. The law has been lethal against dissidents but lenient toward the ruling class and its cronies.

This dual system, impunity for the powerful, repression for the dissenting underprivileged, has generated deep mutual distrust. Tanzania has reached a point where lacking a CCM membership card is akin to lacking the mythical “666” mark of acceptance. Access to wealth, trade privileges, or legal bypasses increasingly depends on, if not directly associated with, loyalty to the CCM.

But millions of loyal supporters still remain excluded from the inner sanctum of affluence. They cheer but never dine.

The pot of pomposity and contempt

Before the October 29 Massacre, the largest state-orchestrated killing since the German colonial Maji-Maji atrocities, warnings about escalating tensions were ignored. Instead, the state invested in smear campaigns, social-media censorship, abductions, and hollow calls for peace.

Notably, Tanzanian Ambassador to Cuba Humphrey Polepole, who resigned from his diplomatic post in July 2025 in protest against the CCM and the state’s capture by comprador networks (known as “Wanamtandao” in Tanzania), was abducted on October 6. His whereabouts remain unknown; the last traces of him were bloodstains on his house floor.

Some state officials openly boasted of their power, daring citizens to protest, threatening to shoot them or break their legs. Thus, a population already suffocated by frustrations was pushed into a corner and then mocked for choosing resistance.

Those who preach about “other ways of seeking justice” that demonstrators should have embarked on must be honest enough to name those ways, and to explain the fate of those who previously attempted them. From workers, peasants, and pastoralists, to outspoken activists and opposition leaders, the pattern has been consistent: intimidation, physical assault, jail, exile, or at worst, death.

On whose interests?

To understand the massacre, one must excel beyond emotions. When askaris (“soldiers”) and hired mercenaries (as it was alleged) shot non-combatant citizens, even at point-blank range (some inside their homes), they were not defending peace but the status-quo.

In a world of “profit over people”, peace is an afterthought. The swift vilification of demonstrators by the state and ruling class was not meant to protect the nation.

The ruling class does not fear losing lives; they fear losing relationships with presidents, ministers, and MPs who safeguard their deals, overlook their faults, co-invest in their ventures, and donate generously to their philanthropic endeavors.

To them, the young people killed in Tunduma, Arusha, and Dar es Salaam are expendable, mere obstacles framed as terrorists or traitors.

Even if the demonstrators’ demands were not radical, the state acted swiftly to avoid disappointing its capitalist patrons’ interests.

Big businesses disrupted by the protests will recover insured, compensated, or supported by state concessions. But the dead will not rise. Their families will not be compensated. Their memory will fade and extinguish unless those who marched continue organizing and demand justice in their honor.

The demonstration was an eruption of agony produced by decades of neoliberal prescriptions enforced by a monolithic CCM party-state that doesn’t mind treating Tanzanians as livestock while bowing submissively to multinational capital.

One does not need a political science degree to understand the failure of neoliberalism; lived experience is lesson enough. It appears as though the likes of those who gathered at Milmani City for the CCM fundraising gala on August 12, 2025, have won, alongside international capital, which is thriving in Tanzania’s current climate.

While many demonstrators lacked polished placards, their voices were clear:

“CCM wauwaji” (CCM are killers)

“Tunataka nchi yetu” (We want our country back)

“Hatutaki ufisadi” (We reject grand corruption)

“Hatutaki utekaji” (We reject abductions)

It is therefore cynical to claim the protest lacked demands, and they were all mob-gangs and terrorists.

The massacre can either converge the long-scattered struggles of working people, uniting movements that have long operated in silos, or it can deepen its fragmentation, allowing every hard-won gain to be swept away by a state committed to patronage, exploitation, and impunity.

Courtesy: Peoples Dispatch

How India became Hindutva

Rafia Zakaria 

December 13, 2025

DAWN



A FEW days ago, I made the mistake of posting a simple question on X. I had just seen the Indian film Dhurandhar, which attempts to connect Karachi’s Lyari gang wars of the 1990s to the Mumbai terrorist attack many years later. My question was simple and legitimate: “Why are Indians so obsessed with Pakistan?” I posed the question out of genuine bafflement. Pakistan has been attacked by India numerous times, yet one would have to look incredibly hard to find Pakistani television or film media focus on proving Indian villainy. India, and Dhurandar is evidence of this, is utterly obsessed with presenting mono-dimensional characters of Pakistanis and of Muslims, all of whom seem to be intent on attacking India.

Unsurprisingly, the second I posed the question, the troll farms set about hurling insults of the worst kind at me. The level of vitriol in these comments was further evidence of nationalist anger. No Pakistani wakes up thinking about insulting random Indian columnists who write for Indian papers — the converse sadly is not true. I had also posed the question for a second reason: as those who have watched the film will notice, the film is well made. Bollywood filmmakers have made advances in cinematography, scriptwriting, the musical score, action sequences and production in general. How then can they be so retrogressive and backward in producing well-rounded characters if they are Muslim?


This time it is not Pakistanis alone who are fed up with such long productions of what is essentially Islamophobia. While the film is doing well in India — understandable given the kind of vitriolic anti-Pakistan narrative that is fed by the state to an entire generation — it has already been blocked in a number of Gulf countries. Given that millions of South Asians live in that region, this means that the film’s earnings have now been majorly hit. It appears that the state-driven narrative of animosity in India against Muslims might be getting in the way of the eagerness of many of its citizens to work in the Muslim countries of the Gulf. It is also likely that such actions will be repeated in the future as Pakistan increases its security presence in the Gulf.

How did India, once a secular and admired democracy, fall into such a deep pit of propaganda and historical mistruths? Some clues can be found in a dataset and article released by one of the few remaining esteemed and independent news sources in India. CERI-SciencesPo and The Caravan magazine — whose staff has faced harassment at the hands of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s supporters — released an incredible initiative titled ‘Seeing the Sangh: The RSS Project’. The initiative, which features an eye-opening map reveals how the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, which Modi has deceptively called “the largest NGO in the world” is actually “the largest far right network in history”.


How did India, once a secular and admired democracy, fall into such a deep pit of propaganda and historical mistruths?

The RSS along with its nasty propaganda against Muslims and minorities and its constant whetting of religious hatred has managed to become huge. The “RSS formally acknowledges only about three dozen affiliates, even though it is widely understood to coordinate a sprawling network,” ‘Seeing the Sangh’ explains. As is evident from the map, there are in fact a vast number of organisations in India that apparently do what the RSS wants — from organising mobs to lynch Muslims to developing campaigns to destroy mosques, to changing the names of cities and streets, to harassing ordinary Muslims to all manner of other hate-filled actions.

In the words of Christophe Jaffrelot, the research director at Sciences-Po in Paris and an esteemed scholar of South Asian history, “Hindutva is often equated with BJP, the Hindu nationalist party, but this ethno-religious movement has also developed deep roots in civil society since the creation of RSS in 1925. This dataset [on which the project is based], by revealing connections between the RSS, the mother organisation, and a myriad of more or less acknowledged subsidiaries which go much beyond what is known as the ‘Sangh Parivar’ (the RSS family), makes it very clear: extreme Hindu nationalist activists have reached out to almost every social and professional milieu. This network is not confined to India but is expanding globally thanks to the support of the diaspora, something this database captures also in great detail.”

Bollywood films are no exception to the rule. Nothing, it seems, happens in India today without the blessings and accommodation of the Hindutva mindset. It follows that even talented filmmakers who may have wished to make a more evolved film focused on story rather than propaganda have to produce slick and smartly produced garbage. If Dhurandhar did not have to fit into that box it could have competed with the best Hollywood film. But this is the story of India under Modi. Such is the toxic grip of Hindutva that potential and talent are being destroyed. Unfortunately, a large section of the Indian diaspora appears to have embraced Hindutva. This has led major US academic institutions like Rutgers and Stanford to focus on the poison being spread through this far right ideology.

The cost of hatred is that it eats a country whole from the inside. The ‘Seeing the Sangh’ map reveals just how this has happened in India. Even as a large section of Indians may be oblivious to the cost that the Modi regime has incurred, the rest of the world can see the tragedy clearly. Ironically, despite their general eagerness to underscore how awful all Pakistanis are — the Indian audience watching Dhurandar appears to have fallen in love not with the Indian spy character who roams Karachi for RAW but the character of Rehman Dakait. Whether they admit it consciously or not everyone knows a lie when they encounter one.

Published in Dawn, December 13th, 2025



Rafia Zakaria is an attorney and human rights activist. She is a columnist for DAWN Pakistan and a regular contributor for Al Jazeera America, Dissent, Guernica and many other publications.

She is the author of The Upstairs Wife: An Intimate History of Pakistan (Beacon Press 2015). She tweets @rafiazakaria

INDIA

Sectarian Nationalism and Concept of ‘Duties & Rights’

Ram Puniyani | 10 Dec 2025

Modi’s emphasis on duties rather than rights reflect his government’s policies wherein the rights-based approach, especially of minorities and the marginalised, has gone into the freezer.

Image Courtesy: Sabrang India

India’s journey from a feudal society toward a potential democratic society based on modern industries and equality began during the colonial period. This was the period when the rise of modern industries created the working class.

Modern education introduced by Lord Macaulay in India laid the foundation of the education system that had the potential of bringing in the liberal open society where the concept of rights was also ingrained.

The feudal, semi-feudal and similar societies did not have the concept of rights and it was based on ‘divine’ power to rule over the lower sections of society. It was during this period that the tendencies which emerged articulated the rights of the emerging sections of society.

While the freedom movement was led by leaders who had imbibed the values with potential of democratic values, they led the movement against colonial rule. The likes of Sardar Patel, Mahatma Gandhi, Jawaharlal Nehru, Maulana Abul Kalam Azad and Subhash Chandra Bose articulated the values with inherent rights for the nation. They took the lead with great cost to their personal life. One of the examples was the inspiration derived by Jyotirao Phule from Thomas Penn’s book, Rights of Man. Ambedkar was an ardent follower of John Dewey. who was steeped in democratic values.

Recently, Prime Minister Narendra Modi went on to criticise Lord Macaulay for this transition to the values of rights, when he emphasised the traditional knowledge system as a dog whistle to highlight the concept of duty over rights.

Interestingly, Modi and his ilk, and the Muslim League, both expressed the values of ‘declining classes of landlords, Nawabs and Kings’. Modi’s Hindutva presented the ancient period where ‘dharma’ was the core, the dharma which the followers of Hindutva claim to be very great and the core of Hinduism.

Dharma stands for the religiously-ordained duties. Hindu ideologues claim there is no equivalent of dharma in other religions. There is Shudra Dhrama, Stree Dharma, Kshatriya Dharma and what have you. At its core was duties that dominated the scene.

The Muslim League emerged from the nawabs/landlords and their leaders eulogised the great rule of Muslim kings, starting from Mohammad bin Kasim, who ruled for some time in Sind. Their model was based on feudal values, looking down on the lower levels of society. The dominant sections were blessed with ‘divine power’ trickling down to these feudal lords etc. Pakistan saw the good definition of secularism by Muhammad Ali Jinnah, but in practice, feudal elements were dominant around him and after his death they came out openly to impose their feudal-semi feudal values on the society.

Read Also: Traditional Knowledge & Modern Knowledge: Is There a Binary?

As Hindu Nationalism is marching in India, the concept of ‘rights’ inherent in our national movement and Constitution have to be gradually undermined by Hindutva politics. This is where the ‘non-biological’ Modi begins the journey to achieve the goal of undermining rights and highlighting duties. His call for a dumping the education system introduced by Lord Macaulay was a subtle attempt in this direction.

Now, putting it more overtly on the Constitution Day, November 26, “In a recent letter to Indian citizens on Constitution Day (November 26, 2025), Prime Minister Narendra Modi heavily emphasised the importance of citizens fulfilling their Fundamental Duties. He argued that performing these duties is the foundation for a strong democracy and national progress towards his "Viksit Bharat" (Developed India) vision for 2047. Modi urged citizens to place their "duties towards the nation foremost in our minds". This aligns with his previous statements where he suggested that "rights are embedded in duties" and that "real rights are a result of the performance of duty,".

Modi also tweeted: “On Constitution Day, wrote a letter to my fellow citizens in which I’ve highlighted the greatness of our Constitution, the importance of Fundamental Duties in our lives…”

Writer Shravasti Dasgupta writes “While this is not the first time that Modi has laid emphasis on citizens duties, or interlinked them with rights to suggest that duties correspond to rights, the constitution shows that such interlinking is incorrect. According to constitutional experts and political scientists, an invocation of duties, placing primacy on them above rights, is a subtle attempt to recast the constitution, ensure compliance in a manner seen in authoritarian regimes, and signals a danger to democratic principles”

Modi went on to invoke Gandhi on this. “…and that "real rights are a result of the performance of duty,". Invoking Gandhi is totally off the mark, as Zoya Hasan (Professor Emerita, Jawaharlal Nehru University) says, “Gandhi often spoke of duties, but he never treated them as a substitute for rights; duties did not supersede rights. For him, duties were a moral path for individuals, while Fundamental Rights remained essential and must be protected by the state. Gandhi’s commitment to duties did not diminish rights in any way,”

Incidentally, to emphasise the concept of rights, many of these were underlined during the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) regime (2004-2014). The first and major amongst these was the "Right to Information”, a mechanism to root democracy in a deeper way. This was followed by the Right to Education, Right to Food and Right to Health. After the UPA government lost in the 2014 elections, the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) came into power, with full majority for Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). The rights-based approach to public policy has now gone into the freezer and duties are being made a major part of our national policies.

Even our Constitution emphasises on rights in itself. In a way, in Article 21, ‘Right to Life’ incorporates the Right to Health and the Right to Education. The UPA government underlined these in a very appropriate way.

Today, Hindu Nationalism is totally suppressing rights, such as freedom of religion, freedom of expression, among others. Many of these are incorporated in the concept of human rights as well.

What Modi is saying in his letter is the way of suppressing the concept of ‘rights’, which is clear in his policy of relegating the religious minorities to second class status, coining the term ‘Urban Naxals’ for the public intellectuals, among others.

Incidentally, authoritarian states’ constitutions also emphasise more on duties, at the cost of rights.

The writer is a human rights activist, who taught at IIT Bombay. The views are personal.

INDIA

The Rajasthan Village Where a Goddess Guards Trees

Kshitiz Gaur | 12 Dec 2025


In Gola village of Ajmer district, a centuries-old belief in goddess Kalki has preserved a dense green forest and stable water levels, even as the surrounding region turns drier.



The forest around the temple, it is a dense green forest with stable water levels (Photo - Kshitiz Gaur, 101Reporters)


Ajmer, Rajasthan: “I grew up in Jethana village in Rajasthan’s Ajmer district, where water was never scarce,” said Geeta Gujjar (29), who married in 2001. “So when I married in Gola, everyone told me it was a dry village. But the first time they took me to the Kalka Temple, I was shocked…I had never seen such a dense, lush forest.”

Like her, many who come from her parents’ village are surprised to find a thick green forest in Gola, in the Pisanghan block.

Located opposite the Aravalli ranges, Gola is a semi-arid village with hard, rocky soil beneath the surface, salty groundwater, and temperatures that swing from 42°C in summer to 5°C in winter.

Yet a 700-bigha (175-hectare) forest of Khejri (the state tree), Neem, Pipal and Babul thrives here, protected by a long-standing tradition of never carrying an axe into the forest. As one approaches, the air turns noticeably cooler and birdsong fills the area. In some stretches, the canopy is so dense that sunlight barely filters through. “The smell of neem leaves is enchanting. In peak summer, it feels like an oasis. I believe the Goddess herself looks after this place,” Gujjar added.

Data from the India Meteorological Department (IMD) shows wide variation in Ajmer’s peak temperatures and rainfall over the last decade. The highest July temperature in this period was recorded in 2012. Temperatures then dipped for a few years before rising again in 2018, staying above 40°C in 2018, 2019, and 2020.

A report by the Rajasthan Ground Water Department, Ground Water Level Scenario in Rajasthan, 2022, noted that Gola maintained its groundwater levels better than nearby villages that year.

The state irrigation department, which kept records of all 27 lakes and ponds in the district, issued a report on their water levels every year before the monsoon arrived. The department stated that even the level of Pushkar pond, a religious site, fell to 2 to 3 feet, while Gola pond in the forest of Gola village never went deeper than 5 feet, even in the hot summers.

Villagers trace this resilience to their long-held cultural practice. “When we were born, we were told this is the tradition our forefathers followed, so we follow it too,” said Himmat Singh Rathore. “Everyone knows the axe is not allowed. There is no written instruction but everyone obeys it.”

The belief stems from a local legend of deity Kalki, who is said to roam the forest. According to Rathore, she once grew angry when a villager carried an axe and left the land barren. “This is why our land is not good for cultivation,” he said. While the forest is not used for livelihood, it provides shade during harsh summers and helps recharge groundwater in the semi-arid region.

Temple in the Gola village which is surrounded by forest (Photo - Kahitiz Gaur, 101Reporters)

Protected by culture

Gola has about 20 hectares of pond area protected by an anicut system. “The pond is maintained by the Gram Panchayat and holds clean water. It does not dry up even in summers,” said Ramchandra Rar, Additional Chief Engineer of the Public Health Engineering department. Sarpanch Suman Kanwar (38) added, “Even the branches that dry out are collected but not burnt. No tree has been cut in the last 20 years since I came here after marriage.”

During the first full moon of the monsoon, the village celebrates Haryali Purnima, a thanksgiving festival for goddess Kalki. Women sing traditional songs in new clothes with veils, men wear fresh turbans and carry sticks, and artisans bring their crafts to sell. Children ride swings. The festival reaffirms the idea that greenery is sacred and is celebrated in the popular song Haryali ma rahti Kalka mata (The goddess resides in greenery).

The forest also sets Gola apart from its surroundings. While much of Pisanghan block has turned into a quartz and phosphorus mining area, Gola still shelters foxes, occasional leopards, and a large variety of birds. Villagers speak of the cuckoo’s calls bringing “flashes of happiness” in summer, and the monsoon peacocks that gather across the forest.

“Our elders told us that when our ancestors were roaming for a place to settle, they reached here tired after crossing the Aravallis,” said Durga Bai Kumawat (72). “The summers were harsh, so they prayed to Mata Kalki. She brought out this forest in such arid land. That is why our family settled here.”

There is no scientific study yet on this tradition, but its effects are visible. “This forest is our belief and our culture,” said Rathore. “Because of it, the groundwater is maintained and the anicut pond holds water through all twelve months.” Nearby ponds, Kesholav, Govindgarh, Dantra and even the Luni river, dry up in summer, villagers say, but the Gola pond does not.

Residents say the taboo around cutting wood has held strong for generations. “Even before LPG, when we used firewood, no one collected dead branches from the Kalka Mata forest,” said Manna Devi Meghwanshi. “My mother-in-law taught me this, and I am passing it to my daughter-in-law.”

Last monsoon, the villagers expanded the forest by planting Neem, Babul and Pipal on 120 bighas of adjoining government land. “We got the saplings from the forest department,” said Sarpanch Kanwar. After the rains, a three-member panchayat team checks which saplings have taken root.
Thriving ecosystem

Professor Praveen Mathur, former Dean of Environment Studies at Maharashi Dayanand Saraswati University, who has studied bird migration in arid zones, visited Gola in 2021. “It was June, and the temperature inside the forest was 2-4 degrees lower,” he said. “There were native birds like the Indian peafowl, red-vented bulbul, Indian robin, and rose-ringed parakeet nesting there… species that are rare even in Ajmer. Villagers have managed to preserve this forest purely through tradition.”

On the main road to Pisanghan, wood dealer Ramdhar Jangid sells coal and legally sourced wood. “I have never taken wood from the Kalki Mata forest,” he said. “It is forbidden. She is our deity from generations.”

Officials posted in the area say Gola stands out. “When I joined the block, I was astonished to see the forest,” said Shyam Lal Chachwa, Assistant Development Officer, Zila Parishad. “We planted more trees with villagers’ help. They are eager participants.” Assistant Engineer Tejpal Gujjar added, “In my previous posting in Silora block, people were not happy with plantation drives. This place is different.”

Nearby villages are beginning to draw inspiration. “These traditions protect the pond and the forest,” said Kamla Devi, Sarpanch of Lamana. “We want to start similar practices in our village.”

Rajasthan is often pictured as a place where women walk kilometres with pots of water, a land defined by heatwaves, droughts and desert stretches. But patches like Gola show another reality, green belts sustained not by natural abundance, but by cultural traditions of environmental care. These practices, villagers say, do more than protect forests: they help slow the pace of climate stress.

Kshitiz Gaur is a freelance journalist and a member of 101Reporters, a pan-India network of grassroots reporters.

What happens when you let women live alone? Pakistan needs to find out

Pakistan’s economic future grows stronger when women have the freedom to live, and work, on their own terms.

Shanze Hasan 

Published December 13, 2025 

PRISM/DAWN

Pakistan’s prolonged economic downturn is not driven by policy failures alone — it is also fuelled by the systematic underutilisation of its most capable women. Cultural norms that restrict women’s mobility, police their autonomy, and dictate their living arrangements, have become economic barriers, keeping productivity low and growth stagnant.

Pakistan could unlock this economic potential by confronting one of its most rigid social boundaries: women’s freedom to live independently in urban centres.

This article makes a case for a segment already positioned to contribute: urban, educated, skilled, and financially capable women, while recognising that many working-class women also live alone out of necessity or opportunity. Their struggles differ in context but not in significance, facing even harsher structural obstacles. Their participation in the economy is equally critical.

If accelerating growth, reducing brain drain, and closing gender gaps are national priorities, then enabling safe, viable independent living for women in major cities must finally be treated as an economic imperative.
The cost of excluding women

Pakistan’s female labour participation rate sits at a concerning 22.6 per cent for women aged between 15 and 64, which is significantly lower than the world average of 52.6pc, and even lower than the South Asian average of 25.2pc. According to the World Bank, a 10pc increase in female labour participation could increase Pakistan’s GDP growth by 1.5pc annually.

Countries with similar cultural foundations have already demonstrated this. Bangladesh leveraged female-intensive industries to improve GDP and reduce poverty levels. Saudi Arabia, after easing restrictions on women’s mobility and employment, saw an increase in billions to their economy within years. Vietnam attributed significant portions of its growth to educated women entering productive sectors at scale.

In Pakistan, however, even educated women frequently choose to opt out of the workforce or exit early. The reasons being predictable: restricted mobility, lack of safe transport, hostile work environments, and most crucially, a cultural expectation that they must live with their family until marriage, regardless of their professional needs.

“Being brought up in Pakistan, I was always told that I will go from my mother’s house to my husband’s house. The only interim freedom you get is if you go abroad for university,” reflected Elsa Sajjad, who lives with her sister in an apartment in Karachi. “I didn’t go abroad, but those who do, they get a taste of freedom and then it’s snatched back.”

While the decision to migrate abroad for better opportunities is understandable, the loss of these women — artists, academics, designers, lawyers, engineers, doctors — inflicts a drain on human capital Pakistan can no longer afford. Remittances soften the blow, but they do not compensate for the long-term erosion of youthful innovation, research capacity, and domestic talent pipelines.

If women had the option to live independently in city centres, closer to workplaces, training hubs, and universities, they would be less enticed to build their futures abroad.
Benefits of living alone

Ample evidence from across the world suggests that when educated women have control over their time, mobility, and finances, they are more likely to invest in skills development, career advancement, and entrepreneurship. Independent living for women in Pakistan, for those who can afford it, directly supports these outcomes.

“It made me grow up a lot faster than my friends. You’re working, you’re also paying your own electricity and gas bills, and you also have to keep savings aside in case of medical emergencies,” Sajjad pointed out.

Women in joint households shoulder disproportionate unpaid labour. Studies show Pakistani women spend up to 10 times more hours on domestic responsibilities than men. Living independently would allow women to reallocate this time toward networking, internships, freelance work, and degrees and certifications.

“I started my own company, which I could do because of the peace of mind I have. I don’t have to worry about silly things like household tiffs,” added Sajjad.

Women living alone in urban centres can avoid long commutes, unsafe travel, or family-imposed curfews that hinder employment. Living near business districts and transit hubs not only reduces transport costs and safety risks, but also increases workforce reliability, a crucial factor in gaining economic efficiency.

When educated daughters support themselves financially, families experience higher household income, reduced economic burden on parents, greater investment in the education of their younger siblings, and improved social mobility. Independent living also disrupts intergenerational poverty traps, especially for families who struggle to support adult daughters indefinitely.

“Not only am I supporting myself financially, but I can also support my mother,” Sajjad noted.

A rise in independent female tenants would expand rental markets, women-only hostels, co-living spaces, and local services such as laundries, transport, food, and security. This microeconomic ripple will strengthen the service sector, which is already Pakistan’s largest contributor to GDP.

Many women leave Pakistan not because they lack opportunity but because they lack agency over their lives. Facilitating independent living will keep human capital at home.

Living alone also compels women to confront the cycle of fear they have long been conditioned to stay within, ultimately making them more resilient and confident as they navigate the realities of household duties, maintenance issues, tenant rights, and even bribe-hungry police officers who try to take advantage of women driving alone.

“As a woman living alone in Pakistan, the law doesn’t always protect you,” Sajjad emphasised. “It pushed me to do things many women might not consider — like learning the basic laws every Pakistani woman should know. I studied workplace regulations, sexual harassment laws, and driving rules. There have been times when police tried to intimidate me, but now I know my rights and can stand my ground.”
The barriers: Real, serious, and solvable

A meaningful conversation around women’s independence and autonomy must acknowledge the barriers they face in attempting to live alone in Pakistan’s major cities. The most immediate challenge is financial. Even for educated, urban professionals, the cost of rent, utilities, transport, and basic living expenses can be prohibitive without the shared resource of a family household.

“Even the reason I have roommates is economic. I can’t afford rent by myself,” Yusra Amjad remarked, who rents an apartment in Islamabad to be closer to her place of employment.

The economic burden is compounded by discriminatory practices in the housing market, where landlords frequently refuse to rent to single women, demand the involvement of a male guardian, or impose intrusive questioning about marital status and daily activities — requirements less frequently applicable to male tenants.

It is also unconventional for unmarried men in Pakistan to live apart from their families, but the social implications based on gender vary greatly: women are often labelled as dishonourable and shameful, while men are praised as responsible and ambitious for prioritising their careers.

Safety remains an even more pressing concern. In many neighbourhoods across Karachi, Lahore, Islamabad, and other major cities, urban design offers little consideration for women’s security. Street harassment, break-ins, and the constant threat of gender-based violence dictate where women feel safe to live.

Even when a woman does find suitable housing, navigating the city independently brings its own set of risks. Public transport is often unreliable and unsafe, especially after dark, and ride-hailing services, while widely used, are not immune to harassment or predatory behaviour.

“I would call Careems and they were very unreliable. Some of the cars were very sketchy; I would get in and hope they wouldn’t break down,” recalled Maha Shahid, who once lived alone in her grandmother’s house in Karachi. “I would call them at the end of the street, never to my gate, because you never know who you’d get. I took little precautions like that, and I would always try to get out of the office before dark.”

In most cities, for those without a car, ride sharing is the only option. Trains, buses, and other forms of transport are inaccessible and widely unavailable, especially for women. For example, in Islamabad, a metro system has recently been established, but the stations are situated sparsely, and reaching them is another challenge.

“How am I getting to the metro? Am I calling an Uber to the metro? In New York you can walk to the bus. But here it becomes kind of counterintuitive,” said Amjad.

These constraints make late work hours, night classes, internships, and networking events far less unobtainable to women who rely on safe and reliable mobility to advance their careers.

Social scrutiny adds another layer of deterrence. Neighbours, building guards, and even extended family often view a woman living alone as a challenge to cultural norms, subjecting her to suspicion and moral policing. This informal yet pervasive surveillance fosters a hostile environment, deterring women who have the financial means and professional need to live independently. In an already conservative society, the perceived “impropriety” of a single woman managing her own home can translate into daily stress, reputational risk, and familial pressure to abandon the arrangement altogether.

“Women living alone are much more vulnerable in a country like ours. People are more likely to make judgements about their character,” relayed Amjad.

Yet, crucially, none of these barriers are insurmountable. They are symptoms of structural gaps — unregulated rental markets, insufficient women’s housing, inadequate urban planning, and a lack of gender-conscious transport policies — that can be addressed through both public reforms and private-sector innovation. Other countries with comparable cultural norms have expanded women-only hostels, implemented legal protections for single female tenants, strengthened public transport systems, and introduced safe co-living spaces that blend affordability with security. Pakistan can do the same. The obstacles are real, but so are the solutions.
Reframing the cultural conversation

Independent living for women in Pakistan is still seen as a radical challenge to cultural norms, but viewing it solely as a moral or social issue ignores its broader economic significance.

It is crucial to separate religious doctrine from cultural practice: Islam grants women the right to own property, enter contracts, manage finances, and make independent decisions about their livelihoods. The unease around women living alone, then, is not rooted in faith, but in inherited social norms that no longer align with the country’s economic realities.

At a time when Pakistan is grappling with shrinking productivity, declining competitiveness, and an accelerating brain drain, maintaining restrictive norms around women’s autonomy imposes a measurable financial cost. The issue is not whether tradition should be discarded, but whether our economic future can withstand the continued exclusion of half the population from fully participating in public and professional life.

“To me it’s not about feelings but about rationality. Often, I just wouldn’t understand the why. The why has to make sense to me. If the why is just a feeling you have, to me that’s not rational so I can’t just fall into line with what my mother says,” said Shahid, reflecting on the familial backlash she faced when deciding to live alone.

While this analysis primarily examines the economic case for women’s independent living, it is important to acknowledge that many women have no choice but to live alone due to unstable or controlling households, domestic abuse, divorce, or broader safety concerns
Let the women live

Pakistan still has a long road ahead before its cities are truly safe for women to live, work, and move through without fear or scrutiny. It also has a long way to go before women’s right to choose how they live is seen as acceptable, let alone normal.

In a country so deeply entrenched in culture, tradition, and religious routine, a break from conventions, especially by women, is often considered radical or defiant. Yet acknowledging the economic potential of independent living is a critical step toward unlocking the talent that already exists within our female population.

For the segment of women who are financially capable and professionally ambitious, living alone is a decision grounded in necessity, efficiency, and ambition — qualities any society striving for progress should value rather than resist.

“The two jobs that I had in Pakistan really set me up for success. I moved back to New England and got a six-figure salary job without even networking. My work experience in Pakistan really shaped me,” Shahid explained.

Understanding the benefits of female self-determination and highlighting stories of successful independent women can help normalise these choices. The journey is not easy, but the freedom and mobility it brings make it worthwhile. Challenging tradition is rarely comfortable, but clinging to the status quo no longer serves the country.

If Pakistan hopes to rebuild its economy, retain is skilled professionals, and participate competitively in a global landscape, it must allow its most capable women the freedom to structure their lives in ways that support their productivity.

Header image: The photo is generated through Canva AI.


The author is an independent writer based in Brooklyn, New York. With a background in international relations and public policy, she currently works as a researcher at a law and policy think tank aimed at democracy reform in the US.

Work at home

Parvez Rahim 

December 12, 2025 

IN Pakistan, we have two categories of individuals working within households — domestic workers and home-based workers. There is a difference in the work each does. Domestic workers, commonly refer­red to as ‘maasi’ are employed for regular household chores like cooking, cleaning and laundry. They can work either part-time or full-time, usually on the basis of informal verbal contracts. They may also be engaged to care for children, the elderly or the sick.

The number of domestic workers ranges from around 4.5 million to 8.5m. The ILO reports 8.5m, while another source estimates 4.5m. However, these figures cannot be authenticated as it is difficult to collect statistics for individuals working in homes, as they are widely scattered. There is also a strong likelihood that these numbers overlap with those of home-based workers.

The latter category is more formal and closer to the jobs performed by their counterparts in industrial and commercial est­ablishments. They perform a wide variety of tasks, primarily in manufacturing, ie, garments, carpets, footwear, jewellery, etc, and services including virtual assistance, customer service data entry, writing, etc. The work is often categorised as traditional, manual labour, intensive work, or modern skill-based professional activity.

Official estimates place the number of home-based workers in Pakistan at around 4.4m to 4.8m, while unofficial sources suggest the total could be as high as 20m. Out of the 20m, 12m are women, which comes to 60pc. Their output may not be less than that of men but they are still paid less than them.


Karachi’s women have played a notable role in forming the HBWWF.

A report in this paper says that “Globally, women make up about two-thirds of the health workforce but earn, on average, 20pc less than men and remain underrepresented in leadership positions”.

Karachi’s women have played a remarkable role in forming the Home-Based Women Workers Federation in December 2009. The HBWWF has been advocating for the rights of women with more vigour and enthusiasm than its male-dominated counterparts. It was officially registered with a membership of about 1,000 but now has over 4,500 members in Sindh, Balochistan and Punjab. There is also a broader union called the Federation of Sindh Home-Based Workers, which is a federation of various unions in Sindh.

HBWWF had persuaded the Sindh government to legislate the Sindh Home-Based Workers Act, 2018. This law relates to the protection of rights of persons who work in the informal or unorganised sector carrying out remunerative work within their homes or surroundings. The act stipulates that the wages of home-based workers will not be less than the minimum wages under the Sindh Minimum Wages Act, 2015. They are also eligible for “all those social, medical and maternity benefits, compensations and marriages and death grants” available under the labour laws.

Thereafter, the Punjab Domestic Workers Act, 2019, was enacted followed by the Islamabad Capital Territory (ICT) Domestic Workers Act, 2022. They provide for issuance of appointment letters to domestic workers, regulation of daily working hours, grant of sick leaves and festival holidays, maternity leave for female workers and minimum wages as per the law. Termination of employment is subject to a month’s prior notice in writing either by the domestic worker or employer and a month’s wages is to be paid in lieu of notice.

A dispute resolution committee will be formed to resolve disagreements between employers and workers. No one under 15 years will be allowed to work in households in any capacity.

These provisions, derived from various labour laws, have never been fully co­­mplied with by ent­repreneurs of industrial and comme­­r­-

cial establishments. How can we expect millions of households in Pakistan, with limited inco­mes and no knowledge of laws, to ad­­h­ere to them? In fact, these provisions sho­­uld be included in the act for home-based workers, whose nature of work and discipline are closer to that of factory workers. Consequently, neither the Punjab nor the ICT law has been implemented, nor have the respective governments tried to enforce them.

Recently, Saudi Arabia issued guidelines for the conduct of domestic workers and their employers. As domestic workers there belong to different nationalities, it is important for the government to regulate their conduct through these guidelines. Unlike Pakistan, where most laws go unhe­eded, the Saudi government will ensure their compliance in letter and in spirit from the beginning.

The Punjab government and ICT are advised to abrogate their respective acts and issue realistic guidelines to be followed by employers and domestic workers. It will also be convenient for the labour department to check compliance.

The writer is a consultant in human resources at the Aga Khan University Hospital.

Published in Dawn, December 12th, 2025

SMOKERS’ CORNER: UNPRECEDENTED TIMES

Nadeem F. Paracha 

December 14, 2025 

EOS/DAWN


Illustration by Abro


The belief that history is a critical guide for predicting the future is facing a severe test. The enduring idea is best encapsulated by former British prime minister Winston Churchill’s 1944 observation: “The longer you can look back, the farther you can look forward.”

The Renaissance period thinker Niccolò Machiavelli argued that the people’s fundamental desires and behaviours remain unchanged across epochs, which is why a close study of past events can aid one to predict future political and social dynamics. The 19th century German ideologist Karl Marx famously noted that history repeats itself, “first as tragedy, then as farce.” The 20th century Spanish philosopher George Santayana warned that those who cannot remember mistakes of the past are condemned to repeat them.

While this concept remains a popular belief, its relevance as a reliable predictive tool has begun to struggle. This is driven by unprecedented shifts in geopolitics, technology and ecology, which are introducing challenges without direct historical parallels. For over a decade, many experts and political commentators have found their predictions consistently wrong. A major contributing factor is their heavy reliance on historical parallels to understand current events — a methodology that is proving insufficient for the new realities of the 21st century.

A powerful early example of this failure actually stretches back to the 1979 Iranian Revolution. The US failed to predict the revolution because CIA analysts could not accurately gauge the political traction of the religious leader Ayatollah Khomeini. The CIA’s analytical framework was largely based on studies of left wing revolutions, and those rooted in secular and nationalist movements since the French Revolution. The CIA lacked experts on the then-unique power of a new kind of radical religious movement that was emerging in Iran.

From Iran in 1979 to America in 2016 and Pakistan today, analysts continue reaching for historical parallels to predict the future. But these parallels no longer apply in a world being reshaped by new social, technological and geopolitical forces

The French philosopher Michel Foucault, however, observing the climate in Iran a year before the revolution, wrote extensively on an event that was challenging the Western understanding of revolutionary upheavals. It was a mass movement taking shape on the basis of religion; a phenomenon for which American analysts and the CIA could not find any suitable historical precedence. This led to flawed conclusions.

The failure to predict the game-changing 2016 US presidential election provides a powerful example of the limitations of relying on historical parallels in the 21st century. Before the election, most major political commentators ridiculed the idea of Donald Trump ever entering the White House. Their assessment was driven by historical precedents involving past charismatic American populists who ultimately failed to capture the presidency.


They compared Trump to figures whose popularity ultimately collapsed. These included the fiery governor of Louisiana Huey Long, who was a serious presidential contender but who became embroiled in political and financial scandals, before being assassinated in 1935.

Then there was the right-wing figure Barry Goldwater, who won the Republican nomination in 1964 but suffered a massive electoral defeat to Lyndon B. Johnson. Goldwater’s supporters mistook his regional popularity for national viability. There was also Ross Perot, dubbed “the billionaire populist”, who managed to secure nearly 19 million votes in the 1992 election but saw his support fade significantly in 1996, before his influence declined.

These were valid historical precedents of non-mainstream figures who failed to reach the White House. However, in 2016, these precedents did not account for the rapid, profound changes reshaping the American political landscape after the 2008 stock market crash.

The unique confluence of factors in the 2010s rendered old comparisons obsolete, marking the beginning of a new history that analysts failed to grasp. Intense distrust in mainstream politics following the 2008 economic crisis created fertile ground for an ‘anti-system’ candidate. ‘Cultural wars’ intensified and a more radical arm of the ‘new right’ began to gain significant traction among large sections of the American electorate.

Rapidly evolving digital technology was cleverly and effectively used, particularly by the radical right, to formulate new ways to construct perceptions of popularity and demonise opponents, bypassing traditional media gatekeepers. Analysts looked back, but the ground beneath them had moved, leading to flawed assessments and conclusions.

The tendency to rely on historical precedents remains particularly entrenched in Pakistani political analysis. This methodology has strongly influenced the discourse surrounding the political survival of former prime minister Imran Khan. Until the recent press conference by the DG ISPR, in which Khan was branded as “mentally unstable” and a “security threat”, only a few analysts or journalists were willing to predict Khan’s complete ouster from the country’s political scene.

The ‘predictions’ of Khan’s return were rooted in several historical assumptions about the power structure in Pakistan. These included the fact that the establishment has historically demonstrated a willingness to change its mind about opposed politicians, often ‘allowing’ them to return to power; and the perception that the establishment has never been as aggressively opposed to a leading politician hailing from Punjab than it has to non-Punjab politicians.

Conversely, Khan himself has consistently drawn upon the historical tragedy of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the former East Pakistani politician. Khan’s narrative suggests that the establishment’s refusal to allow Mujibur Rahman to assume power after his 1970 victory ultimately led to the breaking away of East Pakistan, implying similar dire consequences if his (Khan’s) ‘mandate’ is denied.

Despite the strong hold of these historical analogies on public discourse, current facts suggest that most of these precedents are struggling to remain relevant in the face of various new political realities. It is these realities that have fundamentally driven the creation of the current government in Pakistan and dictated the establishment’s current state of mind, making past dynamics a less reliable guide for the future.

The world is rapidly moving into unprecedented territory, necessitating political and state structures purpose-built to effectively address novel local and international challenges. The introduction of new technologies has compounded these challenges. Many of the new realities lack clear historical precedents. They are demanding innovative and unprecedented solutions rather than relying on past playbooks.

This line of thinking is being used to justify measures such as the controversial 27th Amendment to the Pakistani Constitution. The proponents of the amendment argue that it is a way to adapt to new internal and external realities. Critics of the amendment will continue to misfire, though, because their critiques are largely rooted in an understanding of politics that remains tied to historical precedents and traditional political norms that do not account for the unprecedented nature of contemporary challenges the state is facing.

The past remains essential for context but, in the 21st century, it has ceased to be the definitive teacher.

Published in Dawn, EOS, December 14th, 2025

Nadeem F. Paracha is a researcher and senior columnist for Dawn Newspaper and Dawn.com. He is also the author of ten books on the social and political history of Pakistan.

He tweets @NadeemfParacha

Overseas-istan

“Pakistan’s brain drain wave is escalating at a staggering pace, with emigration surging from 225,000 in 2021 to a massive 13.53 million by 2024.”

Muna Khan 

 December 14, 2025

DAWN

‘TIS the season for family members to visit and drive everyone crazy about how nothing works in Pakistan. Of course, we love our families and we look forward to their visit, but their moaning can grate on one’s nerves. I am speaking specifically about the adults who lived in Pakistan, even as youngsters, before they migrated to better shores. They struggle with everything that is wrong here, whereas we have learned to live with this strange inertia, this weird brokenness that is our country.

We know why it is broken and who doesn’t want to fix it, so we don’t complain because we know what will happen in seven to 14 years.

But our overseas peers arrive in the country in a state of frustration. This ups the ante — maybe, we feel both defensive and resentful of their attitudes. Maybe, they dislike the fact that we don’t understand how hard they have it in Mississauga, for example. You’ll always see micro-aggressions at family events. Each side has a sense of entitlement about leaving or staying in the country that the other finds unbearable.

I recently witnessed this on a flight back to Pakistan where a fight broke out between passengers — a man and woman — which even the cabin crew was unable to resolve. I think it was over a pillow, or a seat reclining too far. The point isn’t the argument in itself, it was in the ‘shouty’ attitude each person exhibited. We were embarrassed, watching them from across the aisle.

I realised it was about a need to seek attention, to feel heard, to feel their voice matters. Whatever was going on between those two was, in essence, a microcosm of all of Pakistan’s ills. One woman told my sister on her flight from Dubai that there was no justice in Pakistan because she could not find space in the overhead cabin of the plane to store her carry-on.


Our overseas peers arrive in the country in a state of frustration.

I know that I am being quite harsh on a group that keeps this country afloat with their remittances. In October, these remittances reached a record high for the current fiscal year, according to a report by the State Bank of Pakistan.

Pakistanis are desperate to leave because they see no hope here. I have been that person several times but something always pulls me back in. I don’t count because I have many privileges but I empathise with those who want to escape. In his article for ‘Prism’ earlier this year, Eric Shahzar wrote: “Pakistan’s brain drain wave is escalating at a staggering pace, with emigration surging from 225,000 in 2021 to a massive 13.53 million by 2024.”

It’s strange the brain drain has been devastating to our economy but the remittances bring us gains.

On a more positive note, I am fascinated by overseas children’s love for Pakistan. They are not perturbed by the broken roads, the dirt and dust, the gas shortage, the late-night weddings, etc. Their only frustration is the illnesses they contract five minutes into their arrival because it keeps them away from being out and about in the cities they love with cousins, etc. Their sense of identity may be all over the place but their affinity with Pakistan is clear. And I love that about them.

It brings me to an important lesson taught by our family friend Sonya’s young teenage daughter Sasha, an avid singer with an impressive competitive record in the US. Her mother was driving Sasha to a competition an hour away from their home when their car was T-boned by a deer, who came out of nowhere. Sasha saw the deer bounding, its face against her window, then its antler piercing the glass. The car’s windows shattered onto both women, covering them in shards.

After the initial shock and calling the relevant authorities, a school mum came to help and offered to take Sasha to the venue so that she could be with her friends for care and comfort. Sonya agreed as she had to wait for the police and deal with the paperwork. Once all the formalities were done and Sasha was picked up from the venue, she informed her mother that she performed in the competition, complete with bruises and cuts and visibly bloodied. She missed placing in the competition by 1.75 points.

When Sonya asked her why Sasha competed in that state, her daughter replied empathically: “I wasn’t going to let that dead deer ruin all the hard work I put in all year.”

Sonya said that when it comes to fight or flight, Sasha will go into fight mode every time.

That determination is a Pakistani trait.

While we’re still a fair bit away from ringing in the new year, I plan to take inspiration from Sasha and not let any dead deer rain on my parade.

The writer is a journalism instructor.

X: @LedeingLady

Published in Dawn, December 14th, 2025

The writer is co-producer and host of Unpressedented, a podcast on the media landscape in Pakistan.