Criminals on Pak Sar Zameen
We call Pakistan Pak Sar Zameen, “the Land of the Pure.” But pure for whom? Tell me, honestly… pure for whom?
For the criminals? For the rapists? For the child abusers? For the killers who walk our streets untouched by iron shackles or jail cells? Because it certainly does not feel pure for our children.
The entire country is busy discussing India’s Jantar Mantar, an issue that we have no business obsessing over. Everyone knows what India should do, but everyone forgets what Pakistan must do. On that very same day, while the nation was distracted by a controversy across the border, six-year-old Dua was murdered in Karachi. Where was the collective scream? Where was the demand for change? And where were the changemakers?
We have time to argue about borders, about politics, about things that do not touch our homes. But when a child is murdered in our own city, we scroll past, we sigh, we say “Inna Lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un,” and we move on. We move on!
And Dua is not alone.
In 2026, it feels like every other day another child loses their life. Six-year-old Muhammad Wali from Lea Market. Three-year-old Kulsoom from Quaidabad. Tomorrow, another child will be slaughtered. Another name will join the cemetery’s roll call. How many more parents will decorate graves instead of hearing the pitter-patter of their tiny feet?
This is the lullaby that replaces safety in our children’s souls. Our children fall into open manholes because nobody bothers to close them. They are thrown from rooftops. They are abused until they cry, raped until they are wounded, murdered until their funerals become routine. Yet we choke on the same bitter question. Why are the murderers not swinging from ropes? Why are the rapists not rotting in cells? Why are the abusers not dragged through the streets until they beg for death?
A nation is not judged by how boldly it sings the national anthem. It is not judged by the scale of its army or the height of its flags. It is judged by the number of tiny coffins that leave its homes.
So I ask again: if this is truly the Land of the Pure, why are the purest souls in this country the ones who cry alone, die alone, and are forgotten alone?