Opinion

In the digital era, crime has drastically transformed. These days, planned disinformation operations, hate speech, deepfakes and misinformation spread more quickly than traditional crimes, eroding public confidence, escalating tensions within communities and, in severe situations, inciting actual bloodshed. Police must change to protect the information environment as well, since Pakistan’s digital footprint keeps growing. Acknowledging the evolving security environment, Regional Police Officer (RPO) Sohail Akhtar Sukhera has established a Cyber Patrolling Cell in District Jhang as a pioneer model for the Faisalabad Region. By keeping an eye on dangerous online content, spotting emerging digital risks, recording evidence and organising prompt responses through legal processes, the initiative represents a shift from reactive policing to intelligence-led prevention. The framework emphasises adherence to existing legal safeguards while providing clearly defined monitoring categories, reporting channels and escalation procedures. The significance of this initiative extends beyond the boundaries of the Faisalabad Region. It reflects a reality increasingly recognised by law enforcement agencies worldwide: the internet has become an operational domain of public safety. Within hours, a fake video, manipulated image or coordinated disinformation campaign can generate fear, inflame sectarian tensions, undermine institutional legitimacy or provoke violence. Preventing harm in both physical and digital environments has therefore become an essential responsibility of modern policing. Cyber patrolling has already been integrated into contemporary law enforcement in several countries. The European Union’s Digital Services Act requires major digital platforms to mitigate systemic risks arising from coordinated misinformation and illegal content, while Europol strengthens cross-border cyber intelligence. Singapore, through the Protection from Online Falsehoods and Manipulation Act (POFMA), combines legal intervention with public digital literacy campaigns to counter online deception. The United Arab Emirates employs AI-driven cybercrime teams and real-time threat intelligence to combat online extremism and hate speech. In South Asia, Kerala Police’s Cyberdome demonstrates how collaboration among law enforcement agencies, cyber security professionals and academic institutions can strengthen cyber threat intelligence, digital forensics, online fraud investigations and disinformation monitoring. By identifying rumours, verifying information and reducing public panic during emergencies, Cyberdome has emerged as one of the region’s leading cyber policing models. Against this international backdrop, the Cyber Patrolling Cell established by RPO Sohail Akhtar Sukhera represents an important step towards institutionalising digital policing in Pakistan. While still evolving, it demonstrates an understanding that policing must anticipate threats before they materialise rather than merely responding after damage has occurred. However, technology alone cannot counter disinformation. International experience demonstrates that successful cyber patrolling depends upon robust institutions, specialised expertise and public trust. Pakistan should therefore consider several complementary reforms. First, dedicated Digital Threat Intelligence Units should be established within police organisations, integrating cyber investigators, OSINT analysts, digital forensic experts and behavioural analysts capable of identifying coordinated online influence operations. Second, law enforcement agencies should invest in artificial intelligence-assisted monitoring systems capable of detecting bot networks, coordinated disinformation campaigns, multilingual hate speech and AI-generated deepfake content while ensuring meaningful human oversight over enforcement decisions. Third, closer institutional collaboration is essential. Provincial police, the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA), the Pakistan Telecommunication Authority (PTA), the National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency, universities, technology companies and civil society organisations should operate through an integrated digital information-sharing mechanism. Cyber threats rarely respect institutional or provincial boundaries. Fourth, specialised partnerships with universities and research institutions should support continuous officer training in cyber intelligence, digital forensics, artificial intelligence and data analytics. Institutions such as NUST, FAST, Information Technology University Lahore and other research centres possess expertise that can strengthen law enforcement capacity. Fifth, transparent oversight mechanisms are indispensable. Periodic public reporting, independent legal oversight and clearly defined operational protocols can ensure that cyber patrolling remains lawful, proportionate and fully consistent with constitutional guarantees relating to freedom of expression and privacy. Effective cyber policing should enhance democratic resilience rather than weaken it. Finally, equal attention should be given to digital literacy. Citizens who can verify information, recognise manipulated content, identify deepfakes and report online abuse become active participants in protecting the information ecosystem. Public resilience remains the strongest defence against organised deception. The strategic importance of the information domain has surpassed that of physical infrastructure. Just as police patrol streets to deter conventional crime, responsible cyber patrolling has become essential to protecting democratic institutions, social cohesion and national security. Digital policing has become a fundamental responsibility of contemporary law enforcement, and Pakistan can no longer afford to treat it as an optional function. The Cyber Patrolling Cell established under the leadership of RPO Faisalabad Sohail Akhtar Sukhera should be viewed not merely as a regional initiative but as a policy experiment capable of informing Pakistan’s broader digital policing strategy. Strengthened through advanced technology, specialised training, transparent oversight and interagency cooperation, it offers a practical road map for developing a nationally integrated cyber patrolling framework that safeguards both public security and democratic resilience in the digital age.

A society does not collapse the day corruption is discovered; it begins to decay the day corruption becomes ordinary. The Sindh Public Service Commission (SPSC), established to uphold merit and provide equal opportunities to the youth of Sindh, has repeatedly found itself at the center of controversy. Allegations of paper leaks, irregularities, and lack of transparency have steadily eroded public confidence, leading thousands of young aspirants to raise their voices in protest. Reports of demonstrations against SPSC over recruitment and examination concerns, as well as past official action following examination irregularities, reflect the depth of this mistrust. The title, “Cockroaches Approaching the Granary,” is symbolic. A granary stores the food that sustains a nation, while cockroaches represent decay, contamination, and silent destruction. Public institutions responsible for selecting the brightest minds are the granaries of governance. If corruption, negligence, or manipulation infiltrates these institutions, they contaminate not merely examinations but the very future of society. The protests by the youth of Sindh are not simply demonstrations against one institution. They are a cry for justice, transparency, and dignity. Behind every candidate stands a family that has invested years of sacrifice, countless hours of preparation, and unwavering hope. When the credibility of competitive examinations is questioned, it is not only individual dreams that are shattered; public trust in the state’s promise of equal opportunity is weakened. This struggle echoes a wider regional concern. Across South Asia, young people have repeatedly taken to the streets whenever examination systems were perceived to have failed them. In India, nationwide protests over alleged examination paper leaks became a powerful reminder that education and public recruitment derive their legitimacy from public trust. Whether in India or Pakistan, the message from the youth remains remarkably similar: merit cannot survive where examination integrity is compromised. The issue transcends politics. It is fundamentally about governance. Every leaked paper, every allegation of favoritism, and every unexplained irregularity diminishes the value of honest effort. When deserving candidates begin to believe that influence outweighs competence, a dangerous message spreads across society: hard work is no longer enough. The consequences extend far beyond recruitment. Civil servants, lecturers, engineers, doctors, and administrators selected through questionable processes ultimately shape the institutions that govern millions. Weak recruitment today becomes weak governance tomorrow. A nation that compromises on merit ultimately compromises on its future. Yet this moment also presents an opportunity. The protests of Sindh’s youth should not be viewed merely as expressions of anger but as demands for institutional reform. Transparent examination procedures, secure digital systems, independent oversight, prompt investigations into alleged irregularities, and public accountability can restore confidence. Institutions earn respect not by claiming perfection but by responding credibly to legitimate concerns. History reminds us that nations progress when their institutions are stronger than individual interests. The youth of Sindh are asking for nothing extraordinary. They seek only a level playing field where success is determined by knowledge, ability, and perseverance rather than by connections or corruption. The metaphor of cockroaches approaching the granary serves as a warning. If the guardians of merit fail to protect the granary, decay will eventually consume the harvest. But if institutions choose transparency over secrecy and accountability over complacency, the granary can once again nourish hope instead of despair. The future of Sindh depends not merely on educating its youth but on convincing them that their honesty, talent, and hard work will always be rewarded. Merit is the foundation of every successful society. Once that foundation cracks, the entire structure stands in peril.

When rain descends from the folds of clouds, it assumes the form of divine mercy for the earth—reviving parched soil and spreading smiles across the weary faces of farmers. Yet, when this very rain turns unbridled and the administrative apparatus built to welcome it pulls a heavy shroud of negligence over its eyes, this descent of mercy transforms into a harrowing shape of torment and sudden calamity. Gujrat, a historic and industrial city of Punjab that holds a unique global identity through its civilizational expanse, skilled artisans, and proximity to the Chenab River, presents the terrifying spectacle of a pond and a swamp every monsoon season. Here, urban flooding is no longer merely a climatic accident; rather, it has become a chilling confession of administrative apathy, unscientific planning, and a criminal denial of historical geographical realities. When the hydrological management of cities is evaluated on a global scale, the concepts of “Sponge Cities” are put into practice, but our reality stands in stark opposition. When the state of urban drainage in Gujrat is objectively reviewed through the corridors of history, one’s eyes are opened to the bitter truth that the rulers and elements who dominated this city consciously hollowed out its roots at every level for the gratification of greed. The city’s drainage and sewerage system, in particular, fell prey to the plunder of commission agents belonging to the corruption mafia. It is an immensely agonizing chapter of history that two decades ago, when a renowned international Japanese company completed a detailed survey of Gujrat, officially announced its complete reconstruction on modern lines, and promised a world-class drainage system, the hungry brokers sitting in the echelons of power burnt this magnificent project in the fire of personal lust. The people of Gujrat can never forget the actors who sacrificed the Japanese company’s dream at the altar of kickbacks. Later, when times changed and Chaudhry Pervaiz Elahi assumed the helm of this region as Chief Minister, he released heavy, voluminous funds amounting to billions of rupees to radically improve and modernize Gujrat’s decrepit and worn-out drainage system. Yet the tragedy was that these billions of rupees in Gujrat’s history remained restricted to a few specific and powerful pockets, and to openly divide these funds, the entire system was mortgaged to a fostered contractor mafia. With an exceptionally substandard, superficial, and unprofessional approach, this mafia played a game of window-dressing that instead of fixing Gujrat’s sewerage system, ruined it permanently and turned the entire city into an artificial swamp. Today, the agony of drainage dancing through the city’s streets and roads offers no hope of deliverance from this terrifying urban flood unless a severe accountability of these true, deceitful culprits is carried out. The political leadership that followed also made efforts suited to their respective statures for the betterment of the city; and although their own technical errors consistently hampered this improvement, every resident of Gujrat continues to carry the heavy burden of those primary sinners who devastated Gujrat’s history, civilization, and urbanity. Last year, when urban flooding once again descended upon the city as a mortal torment, uproar echoed everywhere, the wheel of life halted, and the situation reached a point where the Chief Minister of Punjab had to personally make an emergency visit to Gujrat to rescue the district administration from this storm of incompetence. During this visit, a heavy downpour of announcements and promises took place, accompanied by the release of special funds worth billions for complete and sustainable improvement next year. Despite the sincere efforts and financial provisions of Honorable Maryam Nawaz Sharif, the district administration—entrenched in a colonial mindset—spent all its energies throughout the year on personal image-building and photo sessions rather than the timely completion of this vital sewerage project. As ill luck would have it, as soon as the monsoon season arrived once again this year, the colorful balloon of good governance and claims deflated entirely, exposing the bitter reality that this malaise of flawed planning persists and rainwater continues to rain down as a torment upon citizens’ lives. And when this rainwater has already devastated citizens’ lives, wounding their homes and businesses, only then do the traditional efforts of WASA and district institutions begin to bear fruit, with water finally receding from the streets after prolonged suffering. Success drums are then beaten over this very temporary performance, adding salt to the injuries of the citizens. A profound study of Gujrat’s urban geography reveals that its foundations and topography are deeply embedded in its centuries-old historical backdrop. Built during the Mughal era, the Akbari Fort serves as the greatest metaphor for the region’s military, political, and administrative history. Viewed from a geographical and topographical standpoint, the Akbari Fort is situated on a relatively high mound or plateau, and the city’s older structural layout spreads outward from this height in gradual slopes in all directions. Principally and naturally, this elevation of the fort and the surrounding natural slopes should have stood as an exceptional geographical blessing for a drainage system—provided the natural pathways of water flow had been preserved and left unmolested by grotesque tampering. The tragedy, however, is that over time, unbridled urban expansion and a flood of encroachments mutilated this natural sloping system so ruthlessly that today, that very height and slope have turned into a bane for the city. Unchecked commercialization and illegal constructions in and around the Akbari Fort and its adjoining low-lying areas have blocked all traditional water routes in such a manner that water finds no outlet. The consequence is that when rainwater flows down from the elevated parts of the fort, instead of finding an open path or paved drain ahead, it encounters dead alleys, narrow sewage pipelines, and an endless siege of encroachments. Consequently, this water accumulates in lower regions to form a permanent lake, leaving city residents weeping over their helplessness. Gujrat’s tragedy is not merely the accumulation of rainwater; it is a reflection of that collective apathy and corruption which wakes up with the arrival

By : Amir Ismaiel ( London based pakistani student )  A new youth-led protest movement in India, known as the Cockroach Janata Party has become the focus of global attention. In recent days students associated with the movement attempted to march towards Parliament, but police used baton charges and force to stop them. The movement’s founder, Abhijeet Dabke, is currently studying in the United States while several of its other leaders are enrolled at leading universities in India and the United Kingdom. The movement is primarily driven by young students. The movement began after the Chief Justice of India reportedly referred to young people as “cockroaches.” Students adopted the term as a symbol of resistance and established the Cockroach Janata Party. According to its leaders, the recent examination paper leak scandal has exposed deep weaknesses and corruption within India’s education system. They argue that corruption in examinations and the erosion of merit are allowing unqualified individuals to enter key institutions, ultimately damaging the country’s future. Protesters are therefore demanding the resignation of the Education Minister, whom they hold responsible for the crisis. Thousands of students continue to demonstrate across different cities while pressing for a wider set of demands. Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi has expressed solidarity with the protesting students. Meanwhile, allegations of police mistreatment of both protesters and opposition leaders have sparked a nationwide debate. Several Indian actors, artists, and public figures have also condemned the use of force against students, adding to the growing political and public pressure on Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government. India often presents itself as the world’s largest democracy and a champion of democratic values. While its large youth population is one of its greatest strengths, it can also become a significant challenge. Because of its distinctive identity and objectives, this movement has attracted the attention of young people not only across India but throughout Asia and beyond. Its growing popularity on social media has encouraged increasing numbers of young Indians to join. If the protests spread further and gain broader public support, they could become a serious political challenge for the government. In response to the latest developments, Prime Minister Narendra Modi released a late-night video message appealing to young people for patience. He stated that investigations into the paper leak scandal were already underway and assured the public that those responsible would be held accountable. However, student leaders insisted that their sit-in would continue until the Education Minister resigned. Some observers believe that the Prime Minister’s body language during the address reflected political pressure and unease. A government that has previously responded firmly to numerous protests now appears to be facing unprecedented pressure from a youth-led movement. Over the past few decades, Asian politics has undergone significant change, with young people emerging as an increasingly influential political force. Even before the current protests in India, youth movements in Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Nepal had already played decisive roles in shaping political developments. In March 2022, Sri Lanka was engulfed by mass protests triggered by a severe economic crisis. Young people stood at the forefront of the demonstrations and led protests that continued for weeks. The government imposed a state of emergency, enforced curfews, and attempted to restrict access to social media, but these measures failed to weaken the protesters’ determination. Eventually, demonstrators surrounded the Presidential Palace, forcing the President to resign. Similarly, Bangladesh witnessed a student-led protest movement that fundamentally reshaped the country’s political landscape. As demonstrations intensified, then Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina left office and departed the country. Security forces attempted to suppress the protests, resulting in the deaths of numerous young demonstrators. Despite this, the movement expanded across the country. Student activism ultimately dominated national politics, the government collapsed, and Nobel Peace Prize laureate Dr. Muhammad Yunusassumed leadership of the interim administration. The intensity of public anger was evident in the actions of some protesters, who set fire to a statue of Bangladesh’s founding leader Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, burned his residence, and removed his image from banknotes. Many young protesters viewed these acts as a response to what they considered years of political repression and believed that every sacrifice was necessary to achieve their objectives. Nepal also witnessed strong youth mobilization against corruption, weak governance, and restrictions on social media. As a generation raised in the digital era, young activists relied heavily on social media to organize, coordinate, and build public support. Issues were first highlighted online, public consensus was gradually developed, and protest calls were then issued. The same strategy transformed local demonstrations into a nationwide movement. The protests became so significant that the country’s political leadership resigned, with Prime Minister K. P. Sharma Oli and his cabinet stepping down. The new interim administration subsequently accepted several of the protesters’ demands. Young people have likewise organized movements in countries such as Indonesia and the Philippines to demand political, social, and economic reforms. Together, these examples demonstrate that the youth of Asia are no longer passive observers but have become powerful and influential agents of political change. Pakistani media is currently giving extensive coverage to the student protests in India. Reports highlight the Indian government’s use of force against students and the growing political pressure facing the Modi administration. This naturally raises an important question: if young people in Pakistan were to launch a similar peaceful movement for their rights, would our own government respond with the same level of restraint? Would protesters avoid police violence, criminal charges, house raids, blocked identity cards, or accusations of disloyalty? The reality is that as a society, we have yet to build a strong culture of tolerance for dissent. Too often, we are more accustomed to silencing critical voices than listening to them. Pakistani youth face not only unemployment and economic uncertainty but also an environment shaped by fear. Even those who have jobs frequently hesitate to raise legitimate concerns, fearing that doing so could cost them their employment, personal freedom, or future opportunities. For this reason, before commenting on developments elsewhere,

Noreen Niazi, sister of Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf founder Imran Khan, made controversial remarks in a widely circulated podcast that drew widespread criticism across Pakistan. She alleged that the military confrontation with India, referred to in Pakistan as Marka-e-Haq (Battle of Truth), was a staged event rather than a genuine act of national defence and claimed there was a secret understanding between the Pakistan Army and Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi to mislead the Pakistani public. She further alleged that Israel and the United States were behind the conflict, claiming India acted under Israeli influence to pressure Pakistan into recognizing Israel through the Abraham Accords, that Pakistan’s government and military had secretly contacted Israeli officials, and that praise from US President Donald Trump for Pakistan’s leadership was part of this alleged agenda. She admitted she had no official information or evidence for these claims and had reached them through her own reasoning, prompting critics to dismiss the allegations as baseless misinformation that undermined the Pakistan Army, the country’s foreign policy, and the sacrifices of its soldiers. Her remarks triggered legal and political condemnation. The National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency issued her a legal notice and summons, accusing her of spreading false, offensive, and inflammatory content intended to defame state institutions, harm national unity, and warning of legal consequences under Section 174 of the Pakistan Penal Code if she failed to comply. Political leaders, including Punjab Information Minister Azma Bokhari, condemned the remarks, linked them to Imran Khan’s political outlook, argued they were contrary to Pakistan’s national interests and achievements, and warned they could be exploited by hostile foreign media to damage the country’s image. Her allegations about Israel were also rejected as inconsistent with Pakistan’s longstanding foreign policy, which supports the Palestinian cause, rejects recognition of Israel until an independent Palestinian state is established on the pre-1967 borders with Al-Quds Al-Sharif as its capital, and was reaffirmed by Defence Minister Khawaja Asif in May 2026. Pakistan’s passport, which remains invalid for travel to Israel, was also cited as evidence contradicting claims of secret normalization efforts. The Marka-e-Haq operation itself was a monumental moment for Pakistan that redefined the country’s military strategy and deterrence capability. The operation was not just a simple skirmish but a carefully planned and executed response to aggression that showcased the exceptional capabilities of the Pakistan Army and the Air Force. The armed forces, through coordinated leadership and superior tactics, successfully foiled any Indian attempts to escalate the conflict. The entire operation demonstrated Pakistan’s resolve to defend its borders at all costs and highlighted the nation’s advancements in modern warfare and technology. The Director General of the Inter-Services Public Relations provided a detailed briefing to the nation, outlining the ten strategic outcomes of the Marka-e-Haq. He explained how the operation transformed the nature of warfare and re-established a balance of power in the region. The entire Pakistani nation, from the northern areas to the southern coast, united in support of its military and celebrated the professionalism and bravery displayed by the armed forces. This unity was a source of immense strength and sent a clear message to the international community about the resilience of the Pakistani nation. It is this very success and the strengthening of national unity that act as a major irritant for the country’s enemies, both internal and external. Those who seek to destabilize Pakistan and weaken its military understand that a strong and confident army is the biggest obstacle to their nefarious plans. Therefore, they continuously resort to such malicious propaganda, attempting to create divisions and lower the morale of the forces. The false narratives propagated by individuals like Noreen Niazi are thus seen as a direct tool of these enemies to achieve their destabilizing objectives. The Pakistani nation, with its rich history of resilience and unwavering patriotism, has categorically rejected these heinous and baseless narratives. The people of Pakistan are not naive, and they are fully capable of distinguishing between truth and falsehood, especially when it concerns the defence and integrity of their homeland. The anger expressed on social media and in public gatherings shows that the public is fully aware of the sacrifices made by the armed forces. They recognize that the soldiers serving on the borders are the nation’s heroes and that any attack on them is an attack on the country itself. This widespread public condemnation has actually served to strengthen the bond between the people and the military. The false narratives, instead of creating doubt, have opened the eyes of the nation even further and have made it easier for the average citizen to differentiate between those who work for the country’s prosperity and those who, driven by selfish political interests, are willing to jeopardize the nation’s security for their own gain. The people are demanding that strict action be taken against all such elements, regardless of their political background or connections. They believe that the law must take its course and that such individuals must be held accountable for their words and actions. The unity and resilience of the Pakistani nation remain unshakable, and such cowardly attempts to create discord and spread lies will only serve to strengthen the resolve of the people to defend their motherland and its institutions. The state is determined to protect its ideological and geographical frontiers, and with the full backing of its patriotic populace, it will successfully thwart all such attempts to undermine its stability and sovereignty.

By Syed Tahir Rashidi Democracies do not usually die in a dramatic moment. Their decline is usually quiet. Elections are still held constitutions are still there on paper and institutions that represent the people are still around.. Beneath these democratic rituals the things that make constitutional government work gradually get weaker. What people think starts to matter more than what people know institutions start to lose their authority and politics starts to reward show more than leadership. These problems were already being talked about in Athens, the city that first came up with the idea of democracy long before they became issues in modern democracies. The people of Athens had to deal with a paradox that still affects societies today: how can a system that is based on freedom protect itself from the bad effects of too much freedom? How can the power of the people avoid being controlled by emotions, populism and demagoguery? Plato, one of the thinkers in history was very concerned about these questions. His criticism of democracy is often seen as the complaints of an aristocrat who did not like the idea of the people having power.. That is not a complete understanding of his thoughts. Plato was worried because he saw what happened in Athens especially when his teacher Socrates was put to death by a jury. This event made Plato realize that a democracy could allow great injustices to happen through its institutions. In his book The Republic Plato talks about democracy not as a system of government but as a way of life. It is a society where what people think matters more than what they know, where emotions control reason and where freedom, if not limited loses its value. Plato said that if people are too free they will eventually become disorderly. When people want much freedom they become impatient with authority, expertise and discipline.. This impatience can lead to the rise of a leader who promises to restore order by taking control. History has shown us that this paradox is real. When there are many factions in a country people often want a strong leader to take charge. Democracies can inadvertently create the conditions for authoritarianism if they do not have institutions to limit power. This transition from democracy to authoritarianism rarely happens suddenly. It happens gradually as the norms of democracy get weaker. People start to value certainty over discussion. Physicists use the term entropy to describe the natural tendency of complex systems to drift from order towards disorder unless sustained by continual effort. Democracies are no exception. When constitutional norms weaken, institutions lose their independence, and public trust steadily erodes, political systems begin to experience what may be called institutional entropy: a slow but relentless decay in the structures that preserve constitutional order. Democracies seldom collapse because elections cease. They falter because the institutions that give elections meaning gradually lose their authority. Plato was not the one who saw these dangers. Thucydides, who wrote about the Peloponnesian War said that democratic Athens was surrendering to the power of leaders. Aristotle, who was more sympathetic to democracy than Plato also warned that democracy could fail if the law did not control life and emotions took over. For both thinkers democracy needed institutions that could control power, including the power of the majority. These old ideas are still relevant today because they point out a weakness in politics. Elections alone do not guarantee government. Having a majority is important for democracy. It is not enough. There also need to be institutions, a system of laws and informed citizens. Without these things democracy can become just a numbers game than responsible government. This is especially important in countries where politicss about personalities rather than institutions. When election wins are seen as mandates rather than responsibilities governments start to confuse popularity with legitimacy. Politics becomes more divided public debate becomes more about parties than issues and the quality of government is measured by rhetoric than competence. The experience of Athens is not just a historical curiosity; it is a warning for today. The questions that Plato and Aristotle asked are still relevant for every experiment that tries to balance the power of the people with the need for a constitutional order. Pakistans democratic journey, with its recurring crises and contested political authority must be understood in this broader historical context. The challenge for Pakistan is not just to keep procedures but to build democratic institutions. Voting can give legitimacy. Legitimacy alone cannot produce effective government. Constitutions can proclaim rights. Rights are only meaningful if institutions are independent and credible enough to protect them. Democracy survives not just because people vote,. Because both rulers and the ruled accept that power must be limited by law, restraint and accountability. The relevance of this dilemma is clear in Pakistan. Since it was founded Pakistan has said it is committed to government. Constitutions have been written and suspended elections have been held and disputed assemblies have been. Dissolved.. The fact that democratic rituals have continued has not necessarily meant that democracy has become stronger. The recurring crisis has been less about the lack of elections than about the weakness of institutions that can turn legitimacy into constitutional governance. This distinction is crucial. Democracy is often mistaken for the act of voting but its survival depends on a much broader system of limits. Independent courts, impartial bureaucracy, professional legislatures, autonomous regulatory institutions and political parties based on ideas than personalities are not just nice to have; they are essential for democracy. Without them elections can become contests for power rather than ways to hold government accountable. Plato illustrated this problem with his allegory of the ship of state. A ship with a crew may have a great structure but without knowledge of navigation it will not reach its destination. The story was not meant to argue against participation but to show how important competence, wisdom and responsibility are in government. This allegory is still relevant today in

Artificial Intelligence is transforming the world at an unprecedented pace. From healthcare and agriculture to finance, education, and manufacturing, AI is changing how people work, learn, and solve problems. Countries across the globe are redesigning their education systems to prepare students for a technology-driven future. They are investing in coding, robotics, digital literacy, critical thinking, and innovation. Outdated Curriculum, Untrained Teachers, and Obsolete Classrooms Are Holding Back the Nation’s Future Pakistan, however, appears to be moving at a much slower pace. While developed nations are preparing children for careers that may not even exist today, millions of Pakistani students continue to study from outdated textbooks, rely on rote memorization, and learn in classrooms equipped with little more than blackboards and chalk. This growing disconnect raises an important question: How can Pakistan expect its youth to compete globally when they are being educated with a curriculum designed for the past? Education is the engine of economic growth and national development. Every successful nation has built its progress on a strong education system that evolves with changing times. Unfortunately, Pakistan’s school curriculum has not kept pace with technological advancement or the demands of the modern labour market. Although some reforms have been introduced over the years, many textbooks still contain outdated examples, obsolete concepts, and teaching methods that fail to develop analytical thinking and creativity. The world no longer rewards students simply for memorizing information. Search engines and AI can provide facts within seconds. What employers increasingly value are skills that machines cannot easily replace critical thinking, creativity, communication, collaboration, leadership, emotional intelligence, and the ability to solve complex problems. Yet our examination system still rewards memorization more than understanding. One of the biggest weaknesses of Pakistan’s education system is the gap between classroom learning and market needs. Universities and employers frequently complain that graduates lack practical knowledge and workplace skills. Many young people spend years earning degrees only to discover they are not prepared for modern careers. This mismatch contributes to unemployment despite rising educational qualifications. School curricula should therefore be redesigned around future skills. Coding, artificial intelligence, robotics, data literacy, entrepreneurship, financial education, climate science, environmental sustainability, cybersecurity, and digital citizenship should become part of mainstream education. These are no longer luxury subjects reserved for elite schools; they are becoming basic requirements for the global economy. Equally important is the way children are taught. Modern education encourages students to ask questions, conduct experiments, work in teams, debate ideas, and solve real-life problems. Unfortunately, many Pakistani classrooms continue to rely on one-way lectures where students quietly copy notes from the blackboard. Such methods may help children pass examinations, but they do little to prepare them for innovation or leadership. This is why teacher training deserves urgent national attention. Teachers cannot be expected to teach twenty-first-century skills using twentieth-century training. Continuous professional development should become mandatory for all teachers. They should receive regular training in digital learning, classroom technology, student-centred teaching, project-based learning, and modern assessment methods. A well-trained teacher can transform even a modest classroom, while an untrained teacher may struggle despite having excellent textbooks. Technology must also become an integral part of learning. Around the world, interactive digital boards, multimedia presentations, educational software, virtual laboratories, and online learning platforms are making classrooms more engaging and effective. In contrast, many government schools in Pakistan still depend on blackboards, chalk, and outdated teaching aids. There is nothing inherently wrong with blackboards they have educated generations of students. However, they cannot be the only teaching tool in an era when digital technology dominates every profession. Students who have never interacted with computers, digital content, or smart classrooms are already at a disadvantage before they enter higher education or the job market. Modernizing classrooms does not necessarily require replacing every blackboard overnight. Pakistan can adopt a phased approach. Schools should first be provided with reliable electricity, internet connectivity where possible, projectors, computers, and digital learning resources. Low-cost technology can significantly improve learning outcomes if combined with trained teachers and updated curricula. Education must also become more relevant to Pakistan’s own challenges. Students should learn about water scarcity, climate change, renewable energy, sustainable agriculture, disaster management, public health, financial planning, and responsible citizenship. Such knowledge not only strengthens the economy but also helps communities solve local problems. The government must increase investment in education. For many years, Pakistan has allocated a relatively small share of its national resources to education compared with what experts recommend for developing countries. Without sustained investment in schools, teacher development, educational technology, and curriculum reform, meaningful progress will remain difficult. Parents, educators, policymakers, universities, and the private sector all have a role to play. Education should not be shaped solely by examination boards. Industry leaders, technology experts, researchers, and experienced teachers should contribute to curriculum development so that what children learn reflects the realities of today’s world. Pakistan’s greatest resource is not its minerals or natural wealth, it is its young population. Millions of talented children possess the intelligence, curiosity, and determination to succeed. What they need is an education system that unlocks their potential instead of limiting it. Artificial Intelligence will reshape every sector of society during the coming decades. Countries that prepare their children today will lead tomorrow’s global economy. Those that continue teaching outdated syllabi will struggle to keep pace. The choice before Pakistan is clear. We can continue relying on obsolete textbooks, examination-driven learning, blackboards, and chalk while the rest of the world embraces AI and digital innovation. Or we can modernize our curriculum, invest in teachers, equip classrooms with appropriate technology, and prepare our children for the future. The future cannot be built with yesterday’s education. If Pakistan truly wants its youth to compete on the global stage, the time to reform our schools is not tomorrow it is today.

For decades, Galiyat has been celebrated as one of Pakistan’s most picturesque mountain regions, renowned for its dense pine forests, breathtaking valleys, pleasant climate and rich biodiversity. Stretching across Nathia Gali, Ayubia, Dunga Gali and neighbouring hill stations, the region has long served as a sanctuary for nature lovers and a cornerstone of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa’s tourism industry. Today, however, its iconic landscape is undergoing a dramatic transformation. Multi-storey hotels, apartment complexes and commercial buildings are rapidly replacing forests and open green spaces, raising growing concerns among environmentalists, urban planners and local residents that unregulated development is threatening the ecological balance and natural heritage that have defined Galiyat for generations. Over the past decade, multi-storey hotels, apartment complexes and commercial buildings have spread across the region at an unprecedented pace. Hillsides that were once covered with forests and open green spaces are increasingly dominated by reinforced concrete structures. Critics argue that the changing skyline is gradually eroding the natural character that made Galiyat a unique tourist destination. The concerns extend beyond aesthetics. Environmental experts have long warned that excessive construction on steep mountain slopes can increase pressure on fragile ecosystems, reduce forest cover, disrupt natural drainage systems and heighten the risk of soil erosion and landslides. As climate change continues to intensify extreme weather events across northern Pakistan, many believe that poor land-use planning could further increase the vulnerability of mountain communities. These concerns have recently moved beyond public debate and into the corridors of government. A dispute has emerged between the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Adviser on Tourism and senior officials of the Galiyat Development Authority (GDA), bringing renewed attention to the regulation of construction in one of Pakistan’s most environmentally sensitive tourism regions. During a recent visit to Galiyat, the Adviser on Tourism questioned GDA Director General Fawad Khan regarding the allotment of more than five kanals of government land at the Changla Gali Rest Area and the subsequent construction of a hotel on the site. According to officials familiar with the matter, the adviser sought clarification on the legal basis for the allotment and whether all applicable rules and procedures had been followed. The issue gained further attention later the same day when GDA Director General Fawad Khan, Director Administration Noor-ul-Haq and Director Building Control Farukh Jadun submitted requests to the Chief Secretary of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa seeking transfers on what they described as “personal grounds.” The provincial government did not approve the requests, and the officers have continued to serve in their respective positions. The developments have intensified public discussion about how construction projects are approved in Galiyat and whether existing regulatory mechanisms are adequately protecting the region’s environmental heritage. They have also revived broader questions about institutional oversight, enforcement of building regulations and the balance between tourism development and environmental conservation. For many residents, the debate is not simply about individual buildings. It is about the long-term future of a mountain region whose economy depends on preserving the very landscape that continues to attract visitors from across Pakistan and abroad. The controversy surrounding high-rise construction has exposed deeper concerns about governance and regulatory oversight in the Galiyat region. At the centre of the debate are questions over which institution bears primary responsibility for approving construction projects and whether existing laws have been consistently enforced. Speaking in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Provincial Assembly, Tourism Adviser Adil Iqbal announced that he intended to recommend a high-level inquiry to Chief Minister Muhammad Sohail Khan Afridi. According to the adviser, the proposed inquiry would examine how permissions were granted for the construction of high-rise hotels, apartment buildings and other commercial structures that, according to his assessment, may not fully comply with the applicable building regulations. The adviser has argued that preserving Galiyat’s ecological balance is essential not only for environmental reasons but also for the long-term sustainability of the province’s tourism industry. He has maintained that development should proceed within the framework of environmental laws and approved planning regulations. Officials of the Galiyat Development Authority, however, reject suggestions that the authority alone should be held responsible for the current situation. GDA officials maintain that construction approvals in the region are not issued exclusively by their institution. According to the authority, the Tehsil Municipal Administration (TMA), operating under the provincial Local Government Department, also possesses legal authority to approve certain categories of building plans. This overlapping administrative structure has become one of the central issues in the ongoing debate. Critics argue that multiple approval authorities operating under different regulatory frameworks have created uncertainty over accountability. Supporters of regulatory reform believe that overlapping jurisdictions make enforcement difficult and allow developers to exploit differences between separate sets of building rules. The local civil society organisation, Galiyat Tahaffuz Movement, has been among the most vocal critics of the existing regulatory system. Representatives of the movement argue that both the GDA and the TMA have failed to effectively enforce planning regulations designed to protect the region’s fragile mountain environment. According to the organisation, building permits have, in some cases, been issued under political influence or administrative pressure. It further alleges that inconsistencies between separate building regulations have enabled developers to obtain approvals that might not have been possible under a single, uniformly enforced regulatory framework. The movement has repeatedly called for a comprehensive review of construction approvals, greater transparency in land-use decisions and the adoption of uniform building regulations across the Galiyat region. It also advocates stronger environmental impact assessments before permission is granted for major commercial developments. According to government sources, the disagreement between the Tourism Adviser and senior GDA officials has reached the office of Chief Minister Muhammad Sohail Khan Afridi. While the provincial government has not publicly commented on the reported differences, officials familiar with the matter say the administration is attempting to carefully assess the issues before deciding whether to order a formal inquiry. Sources suggest that the government faces a delicate administrative challenge. On one hand, it must respond to concerns regarding environmental protection and regulatory compliance. On the other, it must avoid

A man’s hand emerges from a moving car window on Lahore’s Ferozepur Road, opens, and lets go, garbage tumbling onto the road like something the city never asked for. He drives on, does not look back. Nearby, another man treats a red light as inconvenience, not command, and guns through it because the road, for one careless breath, looks empty, not realizing a motorcyclist is already crossing into that emptiness. Neither would call himself careless. Ask them, and they will say, with the confidence of the unexamined life, that they are decent, law-abiding citizens, and narrowly, they are not wrong. Neither has broken a law that will ever find them. What they are missing is something smaller than law and, in the end, far heavier: civic sense. Civic sense is a phrase worn smooth by overuse and rarely defined. It is not patriotism, that loud, flag-waving thing. It is not obedience, that bowed, fearful thing. It is, instead, a kind of seeing, the awareness that one’s actions ripple into rooms one will never enter: the neighbour’s wall, turned dumping ground; the footpath, swallowed by parked motorcycles, leaving the pedestrian nowhere to stand but the road; the river downstream, carrying someone else’s filth to a family that never asked for it. It is the quiet discipline of behaving as though other people exist and matter, even when no policeman stands at the corner. Pakistan is not short of laws. Karachi’s bylaws on waste disposal would look entirely respectable in any city hall in the world. Islamabad’s traffic regulations are detailed enough to please the most exacting planner. What is missing is not ink on paper but something beneath the skin: the private sense that a rule is worth keeping even when no one is watching. This is why civic sense cannot be legislated into being, however many statutes are stacked atop one another. You can fine a man for littering. You cannot fine him into loving the street he lives on. Take something as unremarkable as a queue. Anyone who has stood at a bank counter, a railway window, a hospital OPD here knows the choreography by heart: the line exists as an idea until someone decides their time outweighs everyone else’s, and it dissolves like sugar in water. This was never really about queues. It is about a deeper assumption: that public space belongs to no one in particular, and rules, somehow, are meant for other people. Multiply that across a city of ten million restless souls, and you get gridlock that swallows whole afternoons, bins overflowing like wounds left untended, and parks abandoned within a year of their own birth. There is a cost to all this, rarely counted honestly. Karachi bleeds away enormous productive hours each year to congestion worsened, not created, by drivers who treat lanes as suggestions and red lights as optional punctuation. Public health suffers when open drains and uncollected waste become nurseries for disease, an arithmetic residents of nearly every major Pakistani city have learned to expect each monsoon. None of this appears, tidy and legible, in a budget document. It appears in hospital wards, in wages lost to sick days, in a low-grade sense that public life is something to survive rather than inhabit. It would be convenient to lay the blame entirely at poverty or lack of schooling, and there is a grain of truth there; a person fighting daily to feed a family has little room left for civic virtue. But the explanation only carries so far. Plenty of well-off, well-schooled Pakistanis fling litter from car windows and treat public parks as private gardens annexed from the commons. Civic sense is not a simple function of income. It is a habit, built through repetition, example, and whatever a society quietly agrees to call normal. This is precisely where schools could do far more. Civic education in most Pakistani classrooms, where it exists at all, survives as a chapter memorized for an exam rather than a practice lived out. A child taught that littering is wrong, who watches the adults around her litter daily without flinching, will absorb the adults’ hands, not the textbook’s words. Civic sense must be modelled, not narrated: teachers who insist on a clean classroom, parents who do not fling wrappers from car windows in front of watching children, local governments that follow a complaint through to its end instead of letting it dissolve into some forgotten file. None of this demands grand reform. It demands a shift in what ordinary people find embarrassing. In cities where civic sense runs deep, a litterer feels a small, hot flush of shame, not because a fine is coming, but because it simply is not done, the way one does not spit at a wedding. That social pressure is more powerful, and far cheaper, than any enforcement machinery a government could design. Building it takes time, and begins small: a shopkeeper sweeping the pavement outside his door, a driver waiting his turn at a roundabout though no one would know if he cheated, a resident reporting a broken streetlight instead of learning to walk around the dark. Cities are not, in truth, built by planners and engineers alone. They are built street by street, choice by choice, by the accumulated decisions of the people who walk them. A country may possess the widest roads and tallest towers in the region and still feel chaotic if the people moving through them share no responsibility toward them. Civic sense is not a lesson for children, nor a slogan for a billboard. It is the invisible infrastructure, unseen and indispensable, that makes every other infrastructure actually work. The writer is serving as Director of the Institute of Humanities and Arts at Khwaja Fareed University of Engineering and Information Technology, Rahim Yar Khan, Pakistan.

For decades, Pakistan has been living with extreme heat. Every summer, temperatures rise above 50°C in parts of Sindh and Balochistan, and cities across Punjab and southern Pakistan face prolonged heatwaves that make daily life a struggle for survival. Agricultural workers, construction labourers, sanitation staff and traffic police continue working under the blazing sun, often without adequate rest, shade, drinking water or legal protection. Heat has long been an occupational hazard in Pakistan, but, unfortunately, it has rarely received the policy attention it deserves. Now, Europe is confronting an extreme heat that Pakistan has experienced for years recorded above 50°C. The recent heatwave across Europe has pushed temperatures above 40°C in Germany, France, Italy, Spain and several other countries. Heat warnings have become routine, hospitals have reported sharp increases in heatstroke cases, schools have closed, transport systems have been disrupted, and governments have activated emergency response plans. The crisis has revealed that no country, regardless of its wealth or technological advancement, is immune to the accelerating consequences of climate change. The difference is that Europe’s heat emergency is still treated as an exceptional event, whereas in Pakistan extreme heat has become almost routine. Every year, millions face dangerous temperatures with little expectation of institutional support. When temperatures exceed 50°C in Jacobabad, Dadu, Sibi and surrounding districts, headlines fade within days even though the suffering continues for months. Pakistan has already paid a heavy price for climate inaction. The 2015 Karachi heatwave claimed well over a thousand lives within a few days, overwhelming hospitals and exposing serious weaknesses in disaster preparedness. Later investigations identified prolonged power outages, water shortages and the absence of coordinated emergency planning as major contributors to the tragedy. The disaster should have transformed national preparedness for future heatwaves. Instead, progress has been uneven and largely confined to a few urban centres. The devastating floods of 2022 offered another painful lesson. Although Pakistan contributes less than one percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, it suffered one of the worst climate disasters in its history, affecting more than 33 million people, destroying homes, schools, hospitals and agricultural land, and causing economic losses worth billions of dollars. The catastrophe exposed Pakistan’s vulnerability to climate extremes, ranging from floods to droughts and heatwaves. A long-term climate adaptation has failed to keep pace with rapidly increasing climate risks. Yes, climate change is not an environmental issue. It is a public health crisis, to be very clear, it is an economic challenge and a labour rights issue. Thousands of outdoor workers continue to perform physically demanding jobs during the hottest hours of the day without mandatory heat safety standards. Lost productivity, rising healthcare costs, declining crop yields, and growing pressure on electricity and water systems are becoming defining features of Pakistan’s summers. Europe’s current experience should be seen as a lesson that climate friendly cannot be built only after disasters occur. Infrastructure must be redesigned for rising temperatures, cities need more trees and green spaces instead of endless concrete, early warning systems must reach vulnerable communities, and labour laws should guarantee rest breaks, access to drinking water and protection for outdoor workers during extreme heat. Schools, hospitals and public buildings should also be adapted to withstand prolonged periods of extreme temperatures. For developed countries, the heatwave exposes the limits of relying solely on emissions reduction without making sufficient investments in climate adaptation. For Pakistan, it is another warning against repeating the cycle of learning lessons only after each catastrophe. The country’s climate history from Karachi’s deadly heatwave to the unprecedented floods of 2022 offers painful experiences of the cost of delayed action. The climate crisis no longer belongs to the future or to any single region. It is unfolding across continents, exposing both rich and poor nations to unprecedented risks. Europe is now discovering what Pakistan has known for years: extreme heat is not merely uncomfortable. It is deadly, economically destructive and socially unequal. The real question is no longer whether another climate disaster will arrive, but whether governments will finally learn from the ones that have already occurred.