Opinion

By Saqlain Abid Tarrar The 60-day U.S.-Iran understanding expired on August 17 without the breakthrough Washington and Tehran had hoped—or claimed—to seek. The agreement has effectively stalled, the Strait of Hormuz remains at the centre of the confrontation, and both sides continue to blame the other for the diplomatic failure. Iran has now warned that it could shift towards a more offensive posture if diplomacy does not progress. This leaves a disturbing question on the table: is the nuclear option becoming the next neutralisation node in the Iran war? The question gained momentum after former Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene claimed that the use of nuclear weapons had been discussed in Trump administration strategy meetings. Such a claim should be treated cautiously because there is no independent evidence that President Donald Trump has ordered or formally approved a nuclear strike. Nevertheless, the allegation itself demonstrates how far the strategic debate has moved. The White House has maintained that nuclear use is not a proposal on the table. Yet Trump’s own rhetoric has made the situation increasingly difficult to ignore. He has declared that the United States has “total control” of Hormuz and described the idea of making the strategically vital waterway U.S. territory as attractive. The Strait of Hormuz is not merely another battlefield. Around one-fifth of the world’s oil and gas supplies normally pass through this narrow maritime chokepoint. Any prolonged closure therefore creates consequences far beyond Iran and the United States: higher energy prices, disrupted shipping, inflationary pressure and another shock to an already fragile global economy. So, what are the chances of the United States actually using nuclear weapons? At present, they remain extremely low—but low is not the same as impossible. History demonstrates how quickly supposedly unthinkable options can become military realities. The United States became the first country to use nuclear weapons in warfare when it dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945. However, it would be historically inaccurate to argue that those attacks were simply conducted to test plutonium and uranium against the Soviet Union. The motives remain debated, including compelling Japanese surrender and influencing the emerging post-war balance with Moscow. The lesson, nevertheless, is unmistakable: once a state believes that an extraordinary weapon can achieve an extraordinary political objective, the threshold can become dangerously negotiable. That is why today’s situation deserves scrutiny. The Trump administration needs an exit from a war that has become increasingly difficult to convert into a decisive political settlement. The USS Abraham Lincoln has also endured an exceptionally long deployment, reportedly more than 240 days at sea, adding another layer of military and political pressure. But nuclear weapons would not provide a rational solution to that problem. Iran’s nuclear capability is certainly a serious concern. The IAEA reported that Iran had accumulated about 440.9 kilograms of uranium enriched to 60 percent before the 2025 attacks disrupted international verification. That material could theoretically produce significant quantities of weapons-grade material if further enriched, but possession of 60-percent enriched uranium does not mean Iran already possesses nuclear weapons. Iran, meanwhile, has suffered severe economic and infrastructural damage, yet its resistance has not disappeared. Tehran continues to signal that it will not simply surrender under pressure. The danger is therefore that military escalation creates the very nuclear insecurity Washington says it wants to prevent. Russia and China could condemn any nuclear use and mobilise diplomatic opposition. The United Nations could debate emergency resolutions. European governments could strongly object. But none of these actors could physically intercept an American warhead once Washington had made the decision. That makes the most important restraint internal: the political and strategic judgment of the American leadership itself. And there is an even larger regional consequence. If Iran were struck with nuclear weapons, Gulf states could reach a frightening conclusion: conventional alliances may no longer provide sufficient security. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Türkiye and others could reconsider their long-term strategic options. Nuclear hedging and proliferation could become increasingly attractive. That would transform the Middle East permanently. The irony would be profound. An American nuclear strike intended to prevent Iran from becoming a nuclear power could encourage an entire region to seek nuclear deterrence. Hormuz may eventually be reopened through negotiations, military pressure or a new regional security arrangement. But once the nuclear taboo is broken, restoring it would be far more difficult. The nuclear option should therefore remain the last option—not because it is weak, but because its consequences are stronger than any victory it could deliver. Power can neutralise an opponent. But when power is unleashed without restraint, it can ultimately neutralise the international order itself.

By Laraib Ehsan “A nation does not only lose lives to terrorism it loses opportunities, confidence, and the promise of a peaceful future.” For over two decades, Pakistan has been at the forefront of the global war on terror. From suicide attacks on crowded marketplaces and educational institutions to the bombing of mosques, military facilities, and public infrastructure; terrorism has had an impact on the social fabric, economy, and politics of this nation. Despite progress achieved by Pakistan through the execution of extensive military and counter-terrorism operations, the revival of militant violence in recent years reminds us that the fight against terrorism requires continued vigilance. The true cost of terrorism is calculated not only in terms of the number of casualties but also in terms of the number of lives ruined, people displaced from their homes, and development hampered. According to the Global Terrorism Index (GTI) 2025 prepared by the Institute for Economics and Peace, Pakistan has been one of the countries worst affected by terrorism in 2024. The report showed a sharp rise in the number of terrorist attacks and casualties as a result of the increase in militant activity in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan. These two provinces have become the focal point of Pakistan’s current security threats where civilians, law enforcement officials, and government sites are regularly attacked. According to Security Report of the Pakistan Institute of Peace Studies 2025, presents equally worrying data. As per the report, 699 cases of terrorism were reported in Pakistan in 2025 leading to 1034 deaths and 1366 injuries occurring across the country.125 out of those killed included 354 civilians, 437 security personnel, and 243 militants. These statistics show that the phenomenon of terrorism has affected all parts of Pakistan, ranging from ordinary citizens to those responsible for ensuring the security of the state. Among all the provinces, Balochistan has suffered the most. It is rich in natural resources and significant in terms of strategic sites like Gwadar Port. Balochistan has seen not only attacks on law enforcement agencies, but also attacks on people, industrial workers, logistics, and infrastructure. Such incidents lead to loss of life as well as the reluctance of investors to invest in the region. A similar situation is happening in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, with the major part of this region being made up of the merged districts along the border with Afghanistan. According to official statements of the Government of Pakistan and ISPR, the majority of the latest attacks were conducted by Fitna al-Khawarij, which is the official name given to Pakistani authorities to the banned Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). The authorities have stated that such organizations try to exploit the safe havens they have across the border to carry out attacks on civilians and military personnel. The Impact caused by terrorism cannot be measured only in figures. Each attack leaves communities sorrowful, resulting in the creation of orphans, damaging lives, and making people unsure in the future. Schools are closed, businesses stop working, and basic health services are absent from such areas. The recent case Indicates that the threat is present. In 2025 and 2026, Pakistan witnessed multiple occurrences of deadly attacks in Baluchistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa aimed at security convoys, passenger transport systems, and public gatherings. One of the worst attacks was on the Jaffar Express train in Baluchistan as it targeted a passenger train carrying hundreds of civilians. The attack resulted in loss of lives, injuries to passengers, and large-scale rescue operations conducted by the security forces of Pakistan, along with other implications of terrorism, transportation disruptions, and psychological impact on travel. Despite the challenges facing Pakistan, the response of the country has always been multifaceted. It has employed its intelligence operations to respond to the attacks and adopted innovative methods for border management and coordination of various institutions in civilian and military spheres. Nevertheless, the recurring incidents of terror underline that military effects on terrorism cannot by themselves eliminate terrorism. Pakistan has made immense sacrifices during the last 20 years, with thousands of civilians dead and armed forces, police, Frontier Corps, and other law enforcement agencies sacrificing their lives for the security of their country. The strategy adopted by Pakistan against terrorism has changed substantially in the last twenty years. After a series of deadly terrorist incidents in Pakistan, the country implemented a wide-ranging counter terrorism policy consisting of military actions, intelligence sharing, border protection, and legal modifications. These operations, Operation Zarb-e-Azb (2014) and Operation Radd-ul-Fasaad (2017), destroyed terrorist facilities and disrupted the networks of terrorists working in the country. As stated in the Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR), these operations led to the reduction of many terrorist organizations’ efficiency and helped restore state authority in previously affected territory. The Pakistan Army, together with the Pakistan Air Force, the Pakistan Navy, the Frontier Corps, the Police, and the intelligence services, has played a key role during the fight against terrorism in Pakistan. Thousands of soldiers and officers have become martyrs while saving civilian lives, defending borders, and conducting different intelligence led operations. Their sacrifices are in addition to the sacrifice made by police officers, rescuers, doctors, and ordinary people and represent one of the most significant contributions of Pakistan to the fight against terrorism in the world. Although military methods have diminished the power of terrorist organizations, specialists claim that it is not possible to defeat terrorism only by military efforts. As specified by the Financial Action Task Force (FATF), one of the most efficient means of fighting against terrorists is to stop their financing. Even though Pakistan has enhanced its anti-money laundering and counter-terrorist financing system in recent years, it is necessary to keep on practicing this idea and cooperating with other countries in order to avoid the rebirth of terrorist organizations. The economic Impact of terrorism is equally dangerous. The Pakistan Economic Surveys show that since 2001 terrorism has caused Pakistan direct and indirect economic damages of more than $150 billion. Namely, these damages include destroyed infrastructure, decreased foreign investments, reduced number of tourists,

By Saman Aftab The Ebola outbreak in DRC is not getting the required traction from the world despite being categorized as the fastest growing infection so far recorded by the World Health Organization (WHO). Before diving deep into the threats posed by this disease, it is imperative to provide the readers with an overview of this viral infection. An Overview of Ebola Outbreak The Bundibugyo virus, one of the Orthoebolavirus species is responsible for causing severe Ebola disease known as Bundibugyo virus disease (BVD). It is a zoonotic disease, with fruit bats suspected to be the natural reservoir.  With the close contact of a human to the blood or secretions of infected wildlife (including bats or non-human primates), the human gets the infection. Consequently, the infection spreads from one human to other through direct contact with the blood, bodily secretions, and organs of the infected ones. The viral infection can also spread through close contact with the surfaces and materials contaminated with the bodily secretions of the infected individuals. Very similar to the Corona virus, the spread of this infection is particularly high in health-care settings having inadequate sterilization measures in place. Moreover, a direct contact with the infected deceased individuals during their burial can contribute to its spread as well. Incubation period and Clinical symptoms The incubation period for BVD ranges from 2 to 21 days, and infected individuals are not infectious until symptom onset. Fever, fatigue, muscle pain, headache, and sore throat may represent as the early symptoms of this disease. But the non-specific nature of these symptoms often makes the diagnosis difficult resulting in delayed detection. Without early detection, the symptoms of this disease aggravate leading to gastrointestinal symptoms and organ dysfunction. In some cases, haemorrhagic manifestations may also occur in the infected individuals. Diagnosis and Treatment In the absence of confirmatory tests such as Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR) or antigen- or antibody-based assays in the laboratory, it becomes a challenge for the health care professionals to differentiate BVD from other endemic febrile illnesses such as malaria. Outbreak control depends on early detection, isolation and care, contact tracing, safe burials and strong community engagement. Since there are no approved vaccines or specific treatments available for BVD, the current mortality rate of 44% to 46% for this disease poses a great threat to the affected communities. Current situation of Ebola outbreak Ebola, which spreads through contact with bodily fluids and causes a hemorrhagic fever, has killed more than 15,000 people in Africa over the past 50 years. As per the reports of international media outlets, the Ebola outbreak in DR Congo has spread to sixth province as death toll passes 2,100 with 4665 confirmed Ebola cases. The World Health Organization has already warned about its pace- the Ebola epidemic, already the deadliest in the country’s history, is spreading faster than any previous Ebola outbreak. Until now, five Congolese provinces had recorded cases: Ituri, which borders Uganda and South Sudan, North Kivu and South Kivu, Haut-Uélé and Tshopo. The risk of cross-border spread of this infection primarily to Uganda and South Sudan is very high. To make things worse, the response to contain this virus in the DRC is hampered by stretched health services, insufficient clean water and safe toilets. Some of the provinces where Ebola is present are densely populated and have only a weak government presence and largely lacking health infrastructure. North Kivu and South Kivu are also split by the front lines between the Congolese army and the anti-government armed group M23, backed by Rwanda, which has seized vast swathes of territory. This makes the conflict-ridden territory extremely prone to viral spread. Should we be worried? According to WHO official statement, the organization hopes to reverse the spread of this deadly virus in DRC within a span of three months with proper medical intervention. However, the pace with which it is spreading within DRC and bordering areas, it is quintessential to take some preventive measures. Since the globalization of the world was primarily responsible for Covid-19 pandemic, it is essential to have preparedness in advance. The healthcare authorities should establish proper communication channel with their counterparts in DRC to have real time data in hand. Similarly, a stock of screening kits should be maintained in the repository. In our airports and seaports, no preventive measures are in place for the screening of any such disease. To put things into perspective, our agencies working in the airports handle body search of persons and their belongings with no protective gears. They do not even wear any mask while dealing with international flights. Most of the time, those passengers who present with clinical symptoms of disease like coughing, flu or fever tend to wear no mask. This puts the fellow passengers and the airport authorities at risk of many diseases. Therefore, the government should take proper measures in this regard. The seaport and airport personnel should be trained to wear masks and protective gear while handling the flights coming from DRC directly or indirectly. Proper screening booths should be installed having health care professionals equipped with medical kits and personal protective gear. There should be proper sanitization within the airports and seaports vicinities. All these measures will put us in a better position to prevent many contagious diseases beforehand. Prevention should be the top most priority of our health care system only then we can envisage a healthy future. In the end, let us hope the viral infection in DRC subsides before getting out of control.                  

By Hamza Bio: The author is a student at LUMS from Quetta, Baluchistan, majoring in political science. Cobwebs clung to the corners. Old things lay strewn across the floor. Musty air permeated the room, heavy with a dense smell. And there lay Muntaha, old enough to shoulder a schoolbag, yet young enough to trust that the world outside would not betray her. A seven-year-old child assaulted, raped, and murdered. Was it an aberration, a crime so atrocious that it crossed the bounds of abomination—liable to be dismissed as the work of a depraved mind? Facts offer an utterly different story. Eighteen-month-old Aizal recently met the same fate. Mir Raza, a young IBA graduate and a thriving businessman with a promising life stretching before him, was robbed of his life; his post-mortem examination revealed traces of acid and marks of torture that his body bore. Different names. Different stories. Yet testifying to the same grim pattern that recurs persistently. And perhaps more distressing is our habituation to it: another story breaks, headlines saturate social media feeds, condolences arrive, vacuous promises follow, and eventually, the outrage subsides. Until it happens again. With each gruelling episode, our emotional responses are sapped. That which once transfixed us with horror now hardly unsettles us. The gravity does not diminish; we resign ourselves to the dismal reality. What’s even more disturbing is the gradual erosion of our capacity to acutely realise the weight of these atrocities. This phenomenon ought not to be labelled as apathy. Apathy is much simpler: it is the vacancy of feeling. What we are experiencing is something far more pernicious: a gradual distortion of our senses, recalibrating what we consider shocking. We are undergoing an unconscious normalisation and readjustment to realities that are far from normal. Accustomed to darkness, we watch the very conception of light wither away. We do not cease to care. We require more to feel the same empathy and gravitas that were once instantly evoked. The implications of this shifting baseline are dire. Now for a story to break through, it requires something more heart-rending. It must involve fire, a child, acid, or a lynching to pierce through the noise—although briefly. We have not become cruel; our threshold has changed, filtering out and grading horrors on a curve. And the worst part? We scarcely realise the higher standard that we establish. There is a peculiar cruelty that this readjustment entails. No one consents to feel less over a murdered child, an acid attack, or a sexual assault. It unfolds and creeps in us in increments: one story, one headline, one brutality, one brief sigh. Until the sum of it all is a society that can read about Aizal, Muntaha, and Mir Raza in a single sitting, with its emotional faculties completely exhausted. The prevailing emotion changes from fury to fatigue. What we are surrendering, with each successive case, is not compassion; it is accountability. Accountability when it matters the most, until the headlines fade away from our feeds, the case is buried in the docket, and the victim is swallowed by history—before another name appears to draw another sigh of grief. A society that, though unconsciously, decides to exist beside crimes instead of demanding a reckoning for the culpable is perpetually doomed to remain rife with them because the ability to feel, to question, and to compel accountability has been effectively degraded. The outcome of it all is not that we will turn a blind eye to the horrors; we will grieve—briefly, outrageously, sincerely, and uselessly. Our grief will remain precisely in the same fashion but will fail to prevent such abhorrent acts because the mechanism that might have translated outrage into tangible outcome has been rendered inoperative through the desensitising monotony of repetition. The result? A society that has stopped reacting meaningfully. Brief outcry coupled with a hollow response results in a late, defanged, or no outcome at all. The perpetrators, who may have been deterred by the consequences, now have less to dread. Thus, further crime is bred, and its miscreants emboldened. Desensitization is a distinct peril from the crimes that breed it in the first place. It consistently curtails the cost of crime for everyone still capable of inflicting it. When the very alarm that stirs our conscience has been paralysed, a subtle message is whispered that another child, another toddler, or another youth awaits the same fate as Muntaha, Aizal, or Mir Raza.  

Pakistan’s more than 240 million people live across an enormous and geographically diverse territory, yet governance remains concentrated in only four provinces, each responsible for more than 60 million people. This creates an administrative system that is too distant and overburdened to address the specific needs of individual districts and tehsils, especially in Punjab, where more than half the population is governed from Lahore despite the distance from areas such as Dera Ghazi Khan, Bahawalpur, and Sialkot. Remote citizens often have to make long, expensive, and difficult journeys to provincial capitals for basic documentation, land disputes, specialized healthcare, and other services; Chitral residents may face difficult travel to Peshawar, while Balochistan’s coastal communities may travel hundreds of miles to Quetta and encounter additional linguistic and cultural barriers. This distance produces feelings of neglect and unequal development, as peripheral communities may believe their taxes benefit major cities while their own areas lack clean water, schools, healthcare, and other basic facilities, potentially contributing to separatist movements and regional instability. India provides an example of more decentralized administration, operating with 36 states, provinces, and union territories despite being much larger in population and territory, while Pakistan’s One Unit policy of 1955–1970 demonstrates the dangers of excessive centralization and ignoring ethnic, linguistic, and regional identities. These experiences suggest that Pakistan’s existing provincial structure should not be regarded as permanent and should evolve according to changing administrative and social needs. The most practical solution proposed is to transform existing administrative divisions into provinces, using their established headquarters, government offices, police, courts, development authorities, and other infrastructure as the foundation for new provincial governments. Multan, for example, already has a civil secretariat, high court bench, police headquarters, and departmental offices, meaning it could become a provincial capital with comparatively modest investment rather than requiring the construction of entirely new secretariats, universities, hospitals, housing, and other infrastructure costing hundreds of billions of rupees. This would reduce financial pressure and allow existing administrative machinery to continue operating during a relatively smooth transition. New provinces could also stimulate regional economies by creating provincial governments, assemblies, ministries, civil-service positions, courts, judges, police structures, and thousands of jobs, while attracting professionals and reducing migration to overcrowded metropolitan areas. New police forces could improve law and order through familiarity with local languages, geography, and social conditions, while construction and increased spending would benefit contractors, suppliers, hotels, restaurants, transport providers, and other small and medium businesses. However, provincial creation alone cannot solve Pakistan’s governance or financial crisis: it must be combined with a strong crackdown on systemic corruption, including embezzlement, favoritism, bribery, ghost employees, inflated development contracts, fraudulent welfare payments, and theft of electricity and water. The cited audit findings—including alleged embezzlement of more than Rs40 billion from Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa government accounts and Rs25 billion siphoned from the Benazir Income Support Programme through fraudulent payments—illustrate the scale of the problem. Weak tax collection and severe electricity-sector theft and line losses further deprive the government of revenue, forcing borrowing and leaving inadequate resources for infrastructure and social development; therefore, administrative decentralization must be accompanied by stronger financial accountability, better revenue collection, and effective control of public-sector leakages so that new provinces can become financially viable and genuinely improve citizens’ welfare. Therefore, the creation of new provinces must be intrinsically linked to a comprehensive governance reform agenda that includes the establishment of independent and powerful anti-corruption bodies, the full digitization of government financial systems to eliminate human discretion and create a verifiable audit trail, the implementation of strict and transparent merit-based recruitment policies for all government jobs, and a radical overhaul of the tax collection system to ensure that every eligible citizen and business pays their fair share. The guiding principles for the creation of these new provinces must be crystal clear and fundamentally rooted in the national interest, and the primary criteria for demarcation should be the population size and the geographical contiguity of the proposed units, with the express purpose of ensuring that no new province is created on the divisive basis of language, ethnicity, or tribal affiliation, as such an approach would sow the seeds of further disintegration and undermine the long-term unity and solidarity of the Pakistani people. The history of Pakistan is unfortunately replete with examples of how identity politics and the mobilization of people along ethnic and linguistic lines have led to intense conflict, sometimes violent, and have distracted the nation from the more pressing issues of economic development and social justice, and it would be the height of folly to repeat these mistakes by creating provinces that are defined by a single ethnic group. The creation of provinces like Sindh and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa on the basis of language and ethnicity in the past, while a recognition of historical grievances, has also entrenched these identities in the political landscape, creating a sense of ownership and exclusivity that can sometimes manifest in hostility towards other groups. The goal of the new provincial scheme should be to create units that are diverse and pluralistic, where no single ethnic or linguistic group feels that the province belongs exclusively to them and where all citizens feel equally represented and entitled to the benefits of the state. A province should be a unit of administration and development, not a homeland for a particular ethnic group, and by focusing on population and geography, the government can create provinces that are both administratively viable and socially cohesive, fostering a sense of unity and patriotism that transcends narrow sub-national identities. This is not to say that the cultural and linguistic heritage of the various regions should be ignored, but rather that this heritage should be celebrated and preserved within a framework of civic nationalism, where the primary identity of every citizen is that of a Pakistani, and where the new provinces are seen as different branches of the same national tree, not as separate trees in a divided forest. It is absolutely imperative that the political parties of the country, which hold the levers of power and shape

The historical and cultural affinities between Pakistan and Turkiye have long provided a foundation for cooperation in diverse fields. In recent years, this relationship has increasingly extended to the sphere of higher education, where Turkiye has emerged as a significant destination for Pakistani students. The confluence of geographical proximity, shared religious and cultural values, and the expanding academic infrastructure in Turkiye has made it an attractive alternative to traditional destinations in Europe and North America. This shift is not merely a matter of student mobility but also reflects a broader attempt to institutionalize academic linkages between the two countries. Turkiye currently hosts more than 208 universities, of which 129 are public and 79 are private. A number of these institutions, including Middle East Technical University, Boğaziçi University, Istanbul University, and Koç University, are recognized in international rankings and maintain active research programs. The Turkish higher education system operates within the framework of the Bologna Process, which ensures compatibility with European academic standards and facilitates the international recognition of degrees. This structural alignment, combined with the availability of English-medium programs in many universities, has lowered barriers for international students, including those from Pakistan. The internationalization of Turkish higher education is reflected in the enrollment of over 300,000 foreign students from more than 170 countries. Pakistani students constitute a growing segment of this population, with estimates ranging between 8,000 and 10,000. The annual growth rate of Pakistani student enrollment in Turkiye is approximately 20 percent, indicating a sustained interest. Several factors contribute to this trend. First, the Türkiye Bursları program, administered by the Turkish government, provides comprehensive support that includes tuition, accommodation, health insurance, monthly stipend, and airfare. Each year, more than 500 Pakistani students benefit from this program. Second, the cost of education in Turkish public universities remains comparatively low, with annual fees ranging from 300 to 800 US dollars. Private universities offer programs between 2,000 and 6,000 US dollars annually. Third, admission procedures are relatively accessible, as many institutions do not require standardized tests such as the SAT or GRE. Additionally, the linguistic affinity between Urdu and Turkish, with over a thousand shared words, eases the process of language acquisition for Pakistani students. The academic fields that attract Pakistani students are diverse. Engineering and technology, particularly in areas such as artificial intelligence, robotics, and civil engineering, are in high demand. Medical and pharmaceutical sciences also draw significant interest, given Turkiye’s advanced healthcare infrastructure and research facilities. Other prominent fields include Islamic studies, international relations, social sciences, and media and communication. The latter has gained particular attention following the global popularity of Turkish television dramas, which has increased cultural familiarity and academic interest in media studies. Beyond student mobility, the potential for institutional collaboration between Pakistan and Turkiye remains considerable. The Higher Education Commission of Pakistan and the Turkish Council of Higher Education – YÖK have entered into agreements to promote academic exchange. Several Pakistani universities, including NUST and COMSATS, have signed memoranda of understanding with Turkish institutions to facilitate student and faculty exchange. These initiatives, while still limited in scope, provide a basis for deeper engagement. Joint research projects represent another avenue of cooperation. Turkiye’s strengths in defense technology, renewable energy, and urban development complement Pakistan’s expertise in agriculture, water resource management, and nuclear science. Collaborative research in these areas could address shared regional challenges and contribute to technological advancement in both countries. The development of dual-degree programs is another promising direction. Such programs would allow students to earn degrees from institutions in both Pakistan and Turkiye, thereby enhancing the global portability of their qualifications. Faculty exchange programs could further support this process by enabling the sharing of pedagogical approaches and research methodologies. Additionally, the establishment of language and cultural centers, such as Urdu departments in Turkish universities and Turkish language institutes in Pakistan, would strengthen intercultural understanding and provide linguistic support for students and researchers. In conclusion, Turkiye offers Pakistani students an opportunity to pursue quality higher education in an environment that is both academically rigorous and culturally familiar. The combination of affordable tuition, scholarship support, and institutional compatibility makes Turkiye a viable alternative to more expensive destinations. At the same time, the expansion of academic linkages between Pakistani and Turkish universities has the potential to contribute to broader cooperation in education, research, and technology. For Pakistani students, studying in Turkiye represents not only an academic pursuit but also participation in the strengthening of bilateral relations between two countries with shared historical and cultural ties.

Education  is no longer measured merely by the number of schools or students enrolled. In the modern era, success depends on transparency, accountability, quality learning, financial empowerment, and the effective use of technology. Over the past few years, the School Education & Literacy Department (SELD), Government of Sindh, has introduced a series of reforms that are gradually transforming the province’s education landscape. These initiatives reflect a shift from conventional administration to a modern, technology-driven education system focused on improving learning outcomes and governance. One of the most significant reforms is the Student Attendance Monitoring & Redress System (SAMRS). This digital platform records students’ attendance in real time, allowing school heads and education authorities to identify absenteeism, monitor enrollment trends, and intervene promptly to reduce dropout rates. By replacing manual reporting with digital monitoring, SAMRS enables data-driven decision-making and strengthens accountability throughout the education system. Complementing this initiative is FRAMES (Facial Recognition Attendance Monitoring System), a facial recognition-based attendance mechanism for teachers and non-teaching staff. By replacing traditional attendance registers with biometric verification, the system minimizes proxy attendance, enhances punctuality, and ensures greater transparency and discipline across government schools. Another landmark initiative is the e-Transfer System, which has digitized the transfer process for government school teachers. Instead of relying on lengthy manual procedures, teachers can now apply online, making the process more transparent, merit-based, efficient, and accessible while reducing unnecessary administrative delays. Financial decentralization has also emerged as a defining feature of Sindh’s education reforms through the School Specific Budget (SSB). During FY 2025–26, the Government of Sindh allocated Rs. 18.67 billion directly to government schools, empowering Head Teachers to manage repairs, maintenance, sanitation, furniture, learning materials, and other operational requirements according to local needs. Recognizing the positive impact of this initiative, the allocation was increased to Rs. 22.64 billion in the FY 2026–27 budget, representing an increase of approximately 21 percent. This reform has significantly strengthened school-level autonomy and improved service delivery. Equally important are the Curriculum Reforms, which aim to prepare students for the demands of the 21st century. The revised curriculum emphasizes competency-based learning, critical thinking, creativity, problem-solving, inquiry-based education, and student-centered teaching methodologies. Modernized textbooks and improved publishing standards are helping create a more relevant and engaging learning experience while promoting tolerance, inclusion, and responsible citizenship. A landmark achievement in inclusive education is the introduction of religious textbooks for Hindu students in government schools. For the first time, Hindu students are being provided with textbooks based on their own faith, ensuring that minority students can study their religion within the formal education system. This historic initiative reflects Sindh’s commitment to religious harmony, equal educational opportunities, and respect for diversity. These reforms are further reinforced through merit-based teacher recruitment, digital education management systems, improved monitoring mechanisms, free textbook distribution, and technology-enabled governance. Collectively, these initiatives demonstrate that education reform is no longer confined to infrastructure alone; it now encompasses transparency, accountability, innovation, curriculum modernization, and school empowerment. The transformation of Sindh’s education sector is an ongoing journey rather than a single achievement. Yet, the direction is unmistakable. Through digital innovation, decentralized governance, curriculum modernization, financial empowerment, and inclusive policies, the leadership of Syed Sardar Ali Shah has helped lay the foundation for a more transparent, efficient, and student-centered education system. If these reforms continue with the same commitment and consistency, Sindh has the potential to become a leading model of public education reform in Pakistan. Author: Dr Muhammad Rafique Wahi Pandhi, District Dadu

From Laraib Zahra Once upon a time, far from Earth, beyond the reach of our skies, there existed a planet called the Worthlands. In the Worthlands, there was an equal proportion of humans and ghosts. Whenever a human was born, a little ghost was born by their side. These little ghosts were called Hounds. Every Hound possessed a superpower: it could know exactly what its human companion was thinking. The entire planet was ruled by three powerful ghosts, commonly known by humans and Hounds as the Great 3Gs. Each of the three had a separate kingdom. They were the Ghost of Guilt, the Ghost of Productivity, and the Ghost of Fear. The Ghost of Guilt was the eldest of the three. He controlled the capital of the Worthlands. He had his own Guilt Police and Guilt Pumps. Guilt was a magical liquid found inside these pumps. The Guilt Police, along with the Hounds, kept a constant check on the behaviour of the people in the capital. Their job was to make sure that nobody ever ran out of fuel—the fuel of guilt. Whenever a person was caught running out of guilt, the Hounds immediately reported them to the Guilt Police. They were then provided with more guilt fuel to make sure that nobody went “insane.” The biggest crime in the capital was the Rest Crime. As soon as a person became exhausted and decided to take some rest, the Hounds would begin fiercely whispering in their ears: “Strong people don’t stop.” They would tell them not to rest until they reached somewhere. But where exactly this “somewhere” was, nobody really knew. Sometimes, when a person was genuinely unable to work any further because of an overwhelming workload, the Hounds would call specialised therapists known as the Fear Feeders from the Kingdom of Failure for counselling—a kingdom I shall discuss in greater detail later. On the other hand, the entire north of the Worthlands was ruled by the second Great Ghost: the Ghost of Productivity. Unlike the Guilt Police, who were actually in charge of the capital, there was no such police force in the north. Instead, there was a ministry known as the Ministry of Merit. The humans there were never supposed to sit idle. Instead, they were expected to work harder and harder to make sure that they remained at the top of the list maintained by the Ministry of Merit. Every year, there was a grand ceremony known as the Annual Worth Ceremony. The humans who earned the highest number of merit points received a golden star carved with their names in the Worth Register of the Ministry of Merit. Every time a human refused to rest in order to increase their productivity, the Hounds would greet them by saying: “Congratulations! You have earned three merit points.” Humans were comparatively happier in the north than in the other two kingdoms because here, they were rewarded with golden stars bearing their names. The more golden stars a human had beside their name in the Worth Register, the more likely they were to become part of the Hounds—the most respected position in the Worthlands. After all, the Hounds had the superpower to read human minds, and they could even fly. Their slogan was: “You could be doing more.” To the south lay the third kingdom—the Kingdom of Failure, ruled by the Great Ghost of Fear. This kingdom was the most terrible of them all. The humans there were weak and diseased. Every second person was a victim of anaemia. They looked as though they had been starving for days, perhaps even weeks. On the contrary, the Great Ghost of Fear was the fattest of the three ghosts. The reason for this strange contrast was hidden in the Hounds. Unlike the Hounds in the north and the capital, the Hounds in the south had a distinct name. They were called Fear Feeders. The Fear Feeders had one duty: to sense fear-bearing thoughts in human minds and suck them out, because the Great Ghost of Fear fed on those thoughts. There were many kinds of fears that humans carried in that kingdom: The fear of not doing enough. The fear of getting left behind. The fear of failure. And many more. The Fear Feeders collected these thoughts and presented them to their master. The Great Ghost of Failure had one dish that was especially dear to him. It was his favourite dish of all: “What If” Spaghetti. “What If” Spaghetti was a special dish found in all three kingdoms, but it was particularly abundant in the Kingdom of Failure. The humans looked starved because they had to constantly produce fear in their minds so that they could feed it to the Fear Feeders. These fears were produced through a process called whispering, carried out by Hounds that were not themselves Fear Feeders. Then, one day, something unexpected happened. A few Hounds disappeared. Seven Hounds. Everyone in the Worthlands was deeply concerned about their sudden disappearance. The Guilt Police, along with other investigation departments, launched a search operation. But not even a single missing Hound was found. The humans whose Hounds were missing were arrested and questioned. The results of the investigation shocked everyone in the Worthlands. The Hounds could only exist if their humans obeyed them. This was something that neither the Hounds nor the humans had ever known before. The humans whose Hounds had disappeared were, surprisingly, close friends. During the investigation, they confessed that one day, they had decided to step back from their usual exhausting routines and take a break to rest their tired and ruptured nerves. All of a sudden, seven Hounds appeared and began whispering their usual slogans: “Strong people don’t stop.” “What if you get left behind?” And their most favourite: “You could be doing more.” The humans became lost in their thoughts once again and decided to give up on their plan to rest. But then, suddenly, a voice echoed through the room: “But

(When the water rises, who shows up and who is left waiting?) ‎I live in Sabzazar, a neighborhood in Lahore, Pakistan, but part of my heart is always sitting along the banks of the Moxahala Creek back home in Southeast Ohio. When the water rises in Muskingum County or the Punjab plains, who shows up, and who is left waiting? I live in Sabzazar, a neighborhood in Lahore, Pakistan, but part of my heart is always sitting along the banks of the Moxahala Creek back home in Southeast Ohio. ‎ ‎My mother and brother still live right near South Zanesville, just a stone’s throw from Crooksville. When heavy rains hit Perry and Muskingum counties, I don’t need to be there to know what it looks like. I can picture the heavy, chocolate-brown water backing up into the low spots, the damp chill that settles into a basement, the fears of what if the waters reach a house trailer, and that specific, exhausting smell of river mud that takes weeks to scrub out of porch boards and carpet. The worries of if the home has structural damage.. Halfway across the world in Pakistan, the landscape couldn’t look more different. But when monsoon season swells the rivers across the Punjab, the view from the ground is hauntingly identical. ‎ ‎Standing in a flooded doorway feels the same whether you are in Ohio or Lahore. The quiet shock is the same. The ruin of things you worked years to buy is the same. And the very first instinct is to grab your coat, shovel, a chainsaw and a pair of boots and go check on the elderly woman next door.. Start hauling wet furniture, debris to the curb and giving comfort, food and basics to those in need is entirely universal. Watching both worlds at once makes you look at governance differently. It strips away abstract political jargon and leaves you asking one fundamental question: When a community is hit with a crisis, does its system build capable people who can act, or does it leave them sitting on their hands, waiting for permission to survive? ‎ ‎What a Small Ohio Village Taught Me About Governance ‎ ‎Growing up around South Zanesville and Crooksville, you learn pretty early that small-town life relies on a very specific kind of quiet, distributed agency. ‎Crooksville isn’t a rich town. It’s a hard-working Appalachian village of under 1,500 people. But when the creek overflows, nobody sits around waiting for a press conference out of Washington, D.C., or a mandate from the state capital in Columbus. ‎ ‎The response moves in waves because the connections are already wired: ‎On the local levels we see neighbor checks on neighbor. The volunteer fire department turns on the sirens, pulls out the high-water gear, and starts the door to door knocks. At the County level we have the Perry County 911 dispatch and Emergency Management Agency (EMA) start tracking water levels and routing equipment where it’s needed most. At the State level, If the county gets overwhelmed, pre set legal triggers immediately call in the Ohio EMA or the National Guard. ‎ ‎Government here doesn’t replace the community’s instinct to help itself; it validates it, organizes it, and backs it up with real resources. The system trusts the people on the ground to know their own roads. Here in Pakistan, the human spirit is just as generous, if not more so. The impulse toward hospitality, neighborly charity, and mutual support runs incredibly deep. When disaster strikes, ordinary citizens open their wallets and their homes without a second thought. It’s just what they do… ‎ ‎And Pakistan’s has one of the world’s top class military engineering, a massive national disaster agency (the NDMA), and incredible private charities. The raw capacity is immense. Yet, too often, there is a however a very heartbreaking disconnect between that high-level power and the family standing in ankle deep water in a local neighborhood. An ordinary citizen here once described the country to me using a metaphor I’ve never forgotten: a child that was never allowed to stand on its own feet. An infant isn’t helpless because it lacks potential. It’s helpless because it hasn’t been given the space to build muscle, fall over, adjust its balance, and try again. If an authority figure picks the child up every single time it tries to pull itself up, the child never learns to walk—not from a lack of ability, but because the environment denied it the chance to build strength. ‎ ‎That is how systemic learned dependency takes root: Central authorities assume total control, bypassing local municipal councils. Neighborhoods are given no real budget or authority to fix their own drainage or organize local response teams. And when a flood comes, citizens have no choice but to wait for distant, top-down relief. The authorities look at the waiting crowd and say, “See? The people can’t manage without us.” ‎We witness power centralized even further, deepening the exact helplessness it claims to fix. Over generations, people adapt to the system they are given. If a system rewards waiting for a political patron, people learn to wait for patrons. If it rewards local initiative, communities build habits of self-reliance. It is very easy to blame culture or public apathy for civic passivity, but that misses the point entirely. Culture simply reflects the structural incentives people are given to survive and adapt. It is nature vs nurture and we have a break down when these two things fail to promote a cohesiveness and inclusion of what is a community and what that actually means. ‎ ‎Across the globe, the relationship between state control and citizen participation varies wildly, proving that central authority does not have to mean public powerlessness. In China, a deeply centralized state framework actively structures and expects local neighborhood committees and civil volunteer groups to manage community-level crises. Across much of Europe, comprehensive state safety nets exist alongside highly empowered municipal councils and professionalized local volunteer forces.

Decolonization is often thought of as the process through which colonized nations became free from foreign rule. Flags changed, colonial governments were removed and national governments were. Political independence was officially given back. Yet political freedom did not always mean intellectual, cultural, linguistic or psychological freedom. In places that were once colonized the structures of colonialism stayed long after the colonizers left. These structures continued through education systems, languages, cultural expectations, literary standards, social organizations, economic systems, media portrayals and inherited ideas about what’s considered knowledge, civilization, intelligence, progress and even beauty. This ongoing influence brings up a question: Can a country really be independent if its people still judge themselves using the intellectual standards of their former rulers? The point of this article is that political decolonization is not complete without the decolonization of the mind. Decolonizing minds does not mean rejecting everything from the West. Does it mean replacing one way of thinking with another? Instead it means looking at the systems of knowledge that have been passed down, finding voices that have been ignored, acknowledging indigenous ways of thinking, challenging language and culture hierarchies and building confidence to create knowledge based on one’s own history and society while still being open to global ideas. The idea of the “colonization of the mind” is very important because colonialism was not about politics or money. Colonial powers often tried to show that their language, literature, religion, schools, social systems and ways of knowing were better than those of the people they ruled. The people who were colonized were. Sometimes forced to believe that the culture of the colonizers was modern while their own traditions were backward. The result was a system where the colonized person started to see themselves through the eyes of the people who ruled them. Frantz Fanon in his books about the psychology of colonialism showed how colonial control gets into the minds of the people who are oppressed. So colonialism does not end because the person in charge leaves. Its biggest success happens when its ideas and beliefs become part of the colonized person’s thinking. The mental impact of colonialism is one of its lasting effects. A colonized mind may feel ashamed of its language, accent, literature, clothing, history, traditions and ways of thinking. It may think that foreign things are advanced and local things are outdated. A student may think that an English source is automatically more important than a source from their country that is just as good. A university may value ideas from Europe or North America while not giving attention to ideas from Africa, Asia, Latin America or native communities. A society may celebrate culture while thinking its own traditions are old-fashioned. These views are not always because of individuals; they are often the result of historical systems that have taught generations what to admire and what to ignore. Education is one of the important places where decolonization needs to happen. Colonial education systems were often built not to help the people they ruled but to serve the needs of the rulers. Even though schools today have changed a lot, many still repeat the ways of knowing. The lessons may focus on history, Western books, European philosophy and Western science while giving little space to local knowledge and traditions. This does not mean that Shakespeare, Aristotle, Kant, Newton or other great thinkers should be removed from the lessons. That would only replace one kind of exclusion with another. The real goal is to have balance. Students should read Shakespeare along with writers from South Asia, Africa, the Caribbean and other areas. They should study philosophy while also learning about philosophies from Asia, Africa, the Islamic world and native communities. The purpose is not to get rid of knowledge but to make the learning more wide. A decolonized class asks tough questions about who has been allowed to create knowledge. Who writes history? Who is considered important in literature? Whose language is seen as academic? Whose knowledge is seen as scientific? Whose view defines life? These questions show the politics of knowledge. Knowledge is never made in a vacuum. Schools, universities, publishers, governments, colonial systems and international groups have often decided which types of knowledge are accepted. Decolonization means we have to see these systems and think about them carefully or just accept them as better. Language is possibly the obvious place where intellectual decolonization needs to happen. Colonial languages like English, French, Spanish and Portuguese still hold positions in many countries that used to be colonized. English in particular has become a language and gives access to international learning, technology, jobs, diplomacy and higher education. So the argument for decolonization can’t just be to stop using English. That would be unrealistic. Might even hurt students who need to speak English to communicate internationally. A better argument is to have languages. English should be seen as one tool, not a measure of smartness, civilization or social value. In countries where many languages are spoken, local languages carry histories, memories, identities, oral stories, cultural knowledge and different ways of looking at the world. When a language is pushed aside an entire system of thinking can be weakened. Losing a language is not just losing words; it can also lose knowledge about nature, stories, cultural memory, native words and community identity. Decolonizing the mind means people need to see that speaking a language does not make someone less educated and speaking English does not automatically make someone more intelligent. Knowing a language and being smart are things. A person can be very educated and still express themselves best in a language. At the time, decolonization should not make people dislike English or other global languages. English has been taken by writers, scholars, activists and thinkers from countries and used to show their own experiences. Writers like Chinua Achebe, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, Salman Rushdie, Derek Walcott, Wole Soyinka and many others have shown ways to use colonial languages. Their work shows that language can