This article is neither a political critique nor a matter of personal interest. It is the voice of a concerned citizen, the testimony of an eyewitness, and the urgent outcry of heritage sites that are quietly crumbling under neglect.
Last Sunday, I visited the historic Makli Cemetery, a UNESCO World Heritage Site often called the crown of Sindh’s history. What I witnessed was shocking. Centuries-old tombs are collapsing, bricks are falling apart, and intricate carvings and inscriptions are fading. Encroachments are rampant, information boards are missing or illegible, and trained guides are nowhere to be found. This is not the aftermath of a natural disaster; it is the unmistakable outcome of prolonged governmental negligence.
The question is simple: if Makli is truly a matter of provincial pride, why is it allowed to deteriorate? If it is a world-recognized heritage site, why is its protection limited to files and announcements? And if tourism can boost Sindh’s economy, why is Makli practically abandoned?
The tragedy does not stop at Makli. Mohenjo-Daro, the cradle of a 5,000-year-old civilization, still lacks basic infrastructure, visitor facilities, and sustained governmental attention. Thar, known for its natural beauty, folk traditions, and cultural richness, continues to suffer from inadequate roads, accommodations, and tourist services. These three sites are not isolated cases; they are three faces of the same chronic provincial negligence.
What is striking is that budgets are allocated and plans are drafted, yet these treasures remain neglected. Every government points fingers at its predecessor, while Makli, Mohenjo-Daro, and Thar silently bear the consequences. Tourism and heritage are not treated as priorities, even though they could provide employment, economic growth, and international recognition for Sindh.
Makli is not merely a graveyard; it is a living historical museum and a testament to centuries of Sindhi culture, artistry, and scholarship. Yet, in the absence of proper maintenance, encroachments removal, effective signage, and trained guides, visitors-both local and international-leave with confusion and disappointment rather than admiration.
Similarly, Mohenjo-Daro’s ruins, which could serve as a beacon of Pakistan’s historical significance, are vulnerable to further decay. And Thar, with its unique desert landscapes and vibrant folk culture, has the potential to become a leading tourist destination if proper infrastructure and investment were in place.
The harsh reality is undeniable: without urgent intervention, these sites may survive only in textbooks and photographs. Heritage cannot be preserved through rhetoric alone; it demands decisive action, accountability, and sustained care. History will not remember governments for their announcements-it will remember their deeds, or the lack thereof.
Sindh’s government must act immediately. Makli requires restoration, encroachment clearance, and visitor-friendly facilities. Mohenjo-Daro must receive protection, research support, and infrastructure improvement. Thar should see investment in roads, accommodations, and eco-tourism initiatives. Local youth should be trained as guides and service providers to link heritage preservation with economic empowerment.
This column is not a plea. It is a warning. Time is running out for Sindh’s greatest treasures, and the responsibility now lies squarely with the provincial authorities. Preservation of Makli, Mohenjo-Daro, and Thar is not optional-it is an obligation, a testament to the province’s respect for history and its commitment to future generations.
