People remember Islamabad's winter evenings for their crisp air, misty landscapes, and cozy cafes with warm lights and steaming coffee. But I remember the vlogs of Sohrab Barkat, filming right in front of me, and Mahrang Baloch chanting slogans outside the Press Club. Iman and Hadi stood with us, confronting court cases. That was the winter of 2023, and I was working with Sohrab Barkat at siyasat.pk
After getting free from my work, then I had to go to the protest of the Baloch Yakjehti Committee, people from my province were sitting in front of the National Press Club, and in the morning attended the court hearings cases with my Fellows - Sohrab Barkat, Mahrang Baloch, Iman and Hadi . Now they are all behind bars, punished for their words.
Why must speaking out feel like war? The public square has become a battlefield. The state barricades itself, branding critics as threats
They all are silenced by a system that calls itself democratic. I researched in the studio and chanted slogans in front of the Press Club and attended the court hearings with them. This is what I realised were democratic ways to speak about what I thought was wrong. But now all of the leading people are behind the bars. Now I'm confused—how to work? The studio, the Press Club, and the courts, which were once tools for democratic values, no longer seem to serve that purpose. What hope remains in this flawed facade for the youth like us? For the first time in years, I have nothing to say.
This isn't the silence of peace. It's exhaustion and disillusionment—the hush of a democracy turned hollow. Institutions meant to amplify citizens' voices now echo only the state's power. My retreat contrasts sharply with the courage of those I've stood beside.
Those voices keep me motivated. A journalist chasing facts, an activist demanding justice, lawyers wielding the constitution against the state—they prove democracy's spirit endures, battered but alive.
Yet their fight exposes our crisis: Why must speaking out feel like war? The public square has become a battlefield.
The state barricades itself, branding critics as threats. It equates patriotism with silence, security with suppression.
The way forward? The state must pause its drive for control. Embrace democracy's noise—arguments, protests, dissent—as signs of vitality, not weakness. See citizens not as subjects to manage, but voices to hear.