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EVERY year, hundreds of fresh law graduates walk into Pakistan’s leading chambers and firms for what is euphemistically called an “internship” or “pupillage.” Most will not be paid a rupee for months, sometimes years, of full-time work drafting pleadings, researching case law and sitting in on client meetings. Some will eventually be “made permanent” on a modest salary; many others will simply be replaced by the next batch of eager graduates willing to work for free. This arrangement is so normalized within the legal fraternity that it is rarely discussed as a labor rights issue at all. It is treated, instead, as an inevitable rite of passage the price of admission into a prestigious profession. Yet a closer look suggests that Pakistan’s legal industry may be one of the starkest examples of unregulated, exploitative internship practice in the country, and one uniquely ill-placed to defend it, given that the profession exists to interpret and enforce the very laws it is quietly sidestepping. The scale of the problem has been documented, if informally. Lawyers who have surveyed the profession describe junior associates at reputed firms completing unpaid stints stretching from three months to two years, often working full days while technically still “training.” The practice persists despite Pakistan’s Apprenticeship Ordinance, 1962, which was designed precisely to regulate structured on-the-job training and guarantee apprentices certain minimum protections. Law firms and chambers, however, rarely register their interns as apprentices under this law, leaving them in a legal no-man’s-land: neither students, nor employees, nor apprentices in the statutory sense. This gap is compounded by the profession’s own regulator. The Pakistan Bar Council and provincial bar councils set the rules for enrolment, requiring aspiring advocates to complete a period of pupillage under a senior lawyer before they can be licensed. But neither the Legal Practitioners and Bar Councils Act, 1973, nor the rules made under it, mandate that this pupillage be paid. In effect, the very body responsible for admitting new lawyers to practice has built an unpaid apprenticeship requirement into the licensing process itself a far cry from professions such as medicine, where house officers, despite their own well-documented grievances, at least draw a government stipend during mandatory training. The consequences fall unevenly. A law graduate from a well-off Lahore or Karachi household, who can rely on family support for rent and daily expenses, can afford to spend two years being trained for free at a top-tier firm. A graduate from Multan or Turbat, or from a household with no such cushion, effectively cannot. Since access to the most prestigious firms is widely understood to run through personal connections and informal referrals rather than open, merit-based recruitment, the unpaid pupillage system quietly filters out precisely those graduates for whom a legal career could be most transformative. What is marketed as a meritocratic apprenticeship is, in practice, a wealth test dressed up as professional training. Female interns face a related but distinct set of risks. The relative informality of chamber culture, combined with the absence of any real institutional oversight of unpaid interns’ working conditions, leaves young women particularly exposed to harassment with limited recourse. The Protection against Harassment of Women at the Workplace Act, 2010, and its 2022 amendment, extended coverage to a wider range of workplace relationships, but enforcement inside small chambers as opposed to large corporate firms with formal HR departments remains largely theoretical. An unpaid intern hoping for a reference or a permanent position has every incentive to stay silent. None of this is to say every senior lawyer who takes on unpaid interns is acting in bad faith; many genuinely believe, as the profession has long insisted, that pupillage is an investment in the intern’s own future. But belief is not evidence, and there is little data testing whether unpaid pupillage produces better lawyers than a modestly paid one would, or whether firms would truly stop training juniors if a stipend were required. Given how heavily law firms already rely on interns for substantive work, it seems more likely that a minimum stipend requirement would simply formalize the value interns already provide. The fix does not require reinventing the wheel. The Pakistan Bar Council could amend its enrolment rules to require a minimum stipend during pupillage, as some foreign bar associations already do. Firms above a certain size could be required to register interns under the Apprenticeship Ordinance, bringing them within existing protections. And bar councils could extend meaningful, monitored harassment complaint mechanisms to chambers of every size, not just the handful of firms large enough to run their own HR departments. A profession built on the promise of equal treatment before the law owes its own newest entrants rather more consistency between what it argues in court and how it treats them at their desks.

By Granaz Assa A nation cannot move forward when its leaders are divided. Political stability is the backbone of every successful country, but when conflict, corruption, and power struggles become more important than public welfare, a nation begins to suffer. Unfortunately, Pakistan has faced a political crisis for many years. A political crisis is a situation in which a country’s political system becomes unstable, making it difficult for the government to run the country properly. It is mainly caused by conflicts between the government and the military, political disagreements, corruption, and weak leadership, which lead to instability, loss of public trust, and slow development in the country. Pakistan’s future depends on strong and fair leadership, but the ongoing political crisis is slowing the country down. Moreover, the people are facing hardships because of this. As a result, Pakistan is experiencing an economic slowdown, a poor international image, and low development. When leaders fight for power and control, it divides the country and creates confusion. Corruption also makes the situation worse because some leaders misuse public money for their own benefit instead of serving the citizens. If the government is weak, it cannot make good decisions or effectively help the people. A political crisis has many negative impacts on the country. It creates instability, weakens the economy, increases prices, and raises unemployment. Development projects such as schools, hospitals, and roads may be delayed. Public services can also be affected. As a result, the country’s overall progress becomes slow, and the daily lives of citizens become more difficult. In this way, a country cannot move forward. To solve the political crisis in Pakistan, some important steps are needed. First, corruption must be reduced, and leaders should work honestly for the people. Moreover, the country needs strong and fair leadership to make good decisions and guide the nation. Political parties should work peacefully and respect one another instead of engaging in conflicts. These steps can bring stability, improve the country’s economy, and build a better future for Pakistan. The political crisis is a serious problem that affects the country in many ways. The country needs to promote peace and unity among its people. Pakistan can overcome this crisis if all political parties and their leaders work together for the country instead of pursuing their personal interests. Free and fair elections, respect for the Constitution, and peaceful dialogue can help resolve political disagreements. The government must focus on the needs of the people. Citizens should also vote responsibly and support peace, unity, and democracy. By working together, the country can achieve political stability, economic growth, and a brighter future.

By Engr. Saqlain Abid Geography is destiny. A nation cannot choose its neighbours, but it can choose how to live with them. The strongest defence in any democracy is not perpetual conflict but sustained diplomacy, confidence-building measures, and peaceful negotiations. Pakistan and Afghanistan are two countries bound by centuries of shared history, religion, culture, and ethnic ties. Yet, what was once described as a brotherly relationship has gradually transformed into one defined by mistrust, accusations, and strategic competition. Today, India has emerged as the third player in this evolving regional triangle.   What exactly went wrong? How did decades of goodwill give way to blame games and border tensions? And why is India now finding greater strategic space in Afghanistan? These questions have become even more relevant following Amnesty International’s allegations regarding Pakistan’s reported airstrikes on the Omeed Rehabilitation Centre near Kabul on 14 March. The organisation questioned Pakistan’s justification for the operation, while Islamabad firmly rejected the allegations and maintained that its forces targeted legitimate security threats. The competing narratives deserve careful examination.   The first perspective is that of Afghanistan. Following the withdrawal of US forces in 2021, Pakistan welcomed the Taliban’s return to power. General Faiz Hameed, then ISI chief, was closely associated with the Doha process, while the government of Imran Khan projected Pakistan as a key mediator in Afghanistan’s political transition. Relations initially appeared warmer than they had been for years.   However, the atmosphere soon changed. One of the major turning points was the case of Sharifullah, an alleged ISIS-K commander. Pakistan argued that his arrest strengthened its claims regarding cross-border terrorism and militant networks operating from Afghan territory. The Taliban leadership rejected these accusations, insisting that Afghanistan should not be blamed for Pakistan’s internal security challenges.   Instead of responding through military escalation, Kabul gradually diversified its diplomatic and economic partnerships. Trade with India expanded while commerce with Pakistan declined. Afghanistan increasingly relied on Iran’s Chabahar Port and the India-built Zaranj–Delaram Highway to reduce dependence on Pakistani transit routes. Although these alternatives are longer and more expensive, Kabul appears willing to pay that price in pursuit of greater strategic autonomy. For the Taliban government, sovereignty has become closely linked with economic independence.   The controversy surrounding the reported strike on the Omeed Rehabilitation Centre further widened the trust deficit. Human rights organisations questioned Pakistan’s account of the operation, while Islamabad maintained that the target was linked to militant activity and defended its actions as part of its counterterrorism campaign. The differing claims remain disputed and continue to shape international perceptions.   Pakistan’s narrative is considerably different. Islamabad maintains that the resurgence of Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) attacks represents one of its greatest national security challenges. Successive governments have argued that militant groups continue to exploit Afghan territory to launch attacks inside Pakistan. From Islamabad’s perspective, stronger military action became unavoidable because diplomatic engagement failed to produce sufficient cooperation.   The arrest of Sharifullah also carried broader geopolitical significance. Pakistan’s intelligence cooperation with the United States strengthened Islamabad’s engagement with Washington. At the same time, the government accelerated the repatriation of undocumented Afghan migrants, arguing that national security required stricter border management. Critics viewed these measures as increasing pressure on the Taliban government, while Pakistan defended them as sovereign decisions taken in the national interest.   Perhaps the greatest strategic miscalculation, however, was underestimating how quickly a trusted partner could seek new alliances. History shows that when friends become rivals, they often understand each other’s vulnerabilities better than long-standing adversaries.   India forms the third side of this regional triangle. Over the past two decades, New Delhi has invested billions of dollars in Afghanistan through reconstruction projects, infrastructure, education, and trade. As relations between Islamabad and Kabul have deteriorated, India has found greater diplomatic space to strengthen its presence. Development assistance, expanding trade, and improved connectivity have gradually transformed India into an increasingly influential partner for Afghanistan.   The result is a new regional reality. Pakistan views Afghanistan primarily through the lens of security. Afghanistan seeks strategic independence and diversified economic partnerships. India has capitalised on the growing mistrust by expanding its diplomatic and commercial footprint.   Geography cannot be changed, but policies can. Pakistan and Afghanistan will remain neighbours regardless of political differences. Continued confrontation will benefit neither country, while diplomacy, intelligence cooperation, and mutual respect remain the only sustainable path forward. The future of South Asia will depend not on military victories but on whether Islamabad, Kabul, and New Delhi choose cooperation over confrontation.