Journalists in Gujrat are under increasing digital threat. From anonymous calls to coordinated smear campaigns online, they face rising harassment—often without legal support or institutional protection. In a city where reporting already comes with physical risks, the digital world offers no refuge.
Syed Naveed Shah knows this fight all too well. As President of the Gujrat Press Club and District In-Charge of Dunya Media Group, he has spent years navigating a minefield of family feuds, political vendettas, and crime syndicates.
“Journalism in Gujrat isn’t easy,” Shah says. “It’s not just about reporting stories—it’s about surviving each one.”
The environment here is volatile. Family feuds, political rivalries, and organised crime make every assignment risky. “Covering crime and politics feels like walking a tightrope,” he explains. “Dig too deep, and someone will feel threatened.”
According to a report by Daily Dawn, Gujrat recorded 173 murders in 2023—an increase from 169 the year before. For Shah, these are more than statistics. “Each number is a reminder of how dangerous this work is,” he says. “When I report on crime or corruption, I know I’m risking my life.”
He recalls one incident after exposing a local land mafia. “I got anonymous calls. They knew where I went, what time I returned home. It was terrifying,” he says. “But backing down wasn’t an option.”
Shah’s struggle didn’t end offline. “People I’ve reported on now use social media to attack me,” he says. “They spread lies, call me biased, and try to destroy my credibility.”
In 2021, he filed a complaint with the Federal Investigation Agency’s (FIA) Cybercrime Wing—Pakistan’s official body tasked with investigating online threats. “It’s been three years. I gave them everything—screenshots, voice notes, you name it,” he says. “Still, no progress. It feels like no one wants to protect us.”
Shah is not alone in his frustration. Journalists across Gujrat face a similar lack of follow-through when they report digital abuse. Despite these challenges, Shah remains steadfast. “I can’t just stop. People rely on us to tell the truth,” he says.
He credits the Gujrat Press Club for being a backbone in tough times. “Our club is like a second family. When one of us is in trouble, everyone steps up,” he says.
Yet most journalists here suffer in silence. Some fear revenge. Others see no point—laws exist on paper, but enforcement is a joke. And then there is the weight of tradition: where speaking out risks more than a career, it risks a family’s name.
A Generation Under Fire
Young reporters like Hamid and Rauf, media graduates from the University of Gujrat, face the same dangers, with fewer resources.
Hamid fled to Islamabad after investigating election-linked violence in 2024. “After my report, I started getting threatening calls,” he recalled.
The threats, traced back to an extremist political group angered by his coverage of voter intimidation, left him shaken. Local police intervened, but he knows he is an exception: “Most journalists never get that support.”
A Digital Rights Foundation study found 87% of Pakistan’s female journalists face online harassment
Rauf stayed in Gujrat, where jobs are scarce and threats are not. He says digital threats are a constant concern here.
Ali Raza, editor of the Daily Note with over a decade of experience, says online abuse has become a routine part of his job. “Every time I publish a sensitive story, I brace myself for trolling and personal attacks,” he shared. “They question my integrity, twist my words, and try to discredit me.”
Raza believes journalists in smaller towns face heightened risks due to a lack of cybersecurity awareness. “In cities like Islamabad or Lahore, journalists attend workshops and get trained,” he said. “Here in Gujrat, we’re left to figure it out ourselves.”
Online harassment cases in Gujrat fall under the jurisdiction of the FIA’s Cybercrime Wing in Gujranwala, yet journalists report that coordination between the FIA and local police is weak.
“When I reported threats, there were long delays and no follow-up,” Raza said. “The police don’t have the digital training to handle these cases effectively.”
While journalists in Lahore or Islamabad attend cybersecurity workshops, Gujrat’s reporters rely on makeshift solutions. “We share tips, use VPNs, and try to protect ourselves,” Raza said. “But without real training and institutional backing, we’re still exposed.”
Freedom Network data shows Pakistan's media landscape has undergone a digital transformation, with more than 80% of outlets now operating on digital platforms. This shift coincides with expanding internet access, which reached 36% penetration—approximately 85 million users—by 2023.
The digital expansion has brought both opportunities and threats. UNESCO data reveals 73% of female journalists globally experience online harassment. In Pakistan, reporters—particularly those covering corruption or women’s rights—face trolling, doxxing, and coordinated smear campaigns.
The Double Burden of Women
In the heart of Gujrat, where conservative norms still shape public life, many women find themselves silenced not by censorship laws, but by fear. Fear of judgement, fear of harassment, fear of being seen.
Local reporter Simal Fatimah watches young colleagues hide behind pseudonyms and blank profile pictures. “They’re not being secretive—they’re surviving,” she says.
Simal herself has felt the weight of this constant vigilance. “These threats take a toll,” she added. “I know colleagues who battle anxiety and depression just because they dared to speak.”
One such voice is Eisha, a journalist who once had the opportunity to become an on-screen anchor. “I turned it down,” she admitted. “It wasn’t just about the job—it was about what might follow. Backlash, judgment, risks to my family. Sometimes the cost is too high.”
For many women in journalism, self-censorship becomes a survival tactic. Stories go untold not due to lack of interest, but because the space to tell them feels unsafe.
Ramna Saeed, a freelance reporter from Gujranwala, suffered gendered vitriol for covering women’s rights. “The attacks weren’t just professional,” Ramna said. “They were personal—my appearance, my character, everything was targeted just because I was a woman who spoke out.”
Abusive messages, smear campaigns, and threats flooded her inbox. “There were days I wanted to give up,” she admitted. “But the stories needed to be told.”
When she begged the FIA for help, no one answered. “I felt abandoned,” she said. “What’s the point of reporting if no one listens?”
A Digital Rights Foundation study found 87% of Pakistan’s female journalists face online harassment. Yet Gujrat’s cases go undocumented.
According to Yasal Munim of Media Matters for Democracy, “We don’t have documented cases from Gujrat. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist—it means they’re being ignored.”
This lack of documentation leaves journalists feeling isolated and unprotected. “If something happens, who do we turn to?” asked Simal. “There’s no clear process. Just fear.”
Despite repeated attempts, efforts to engage the FIA through Right to Information (RTI) requests have gone unanswered.
Fighting Back Alone
Naveed Shah says, “We teach young journalists how to protect their data, identify phishing attacks, and guard their identities,” he explained. “But we’re running on empty. We need support, we need funding, we need recognition.”
“Occasionally, local leaders help mediate disputes, but it’s not justice—it’s a compromise. We shouldn’t be negotiating with people who threaten us. We need real legal protections.”
The courage to speak is there. Where’s the system to protect it?