Let me ask you something: What kind of society ignores the massacre of its own children? What kind of government watches silently as over 100 children are slaughtered, their families destroyed, and a community left to fend for itself? This isn’t just a question for those in power-it’s a question for all of us. Right now, as you go about your day, the people of Parachinar are living through a nightmare. Two men traveling to the city were recently ambushed, murdered, and decapitated-a grotesque act of brutality that’s become disturbingly common in this region. This isn’t just about those two men. It’s about the over 100 children who’ve been killed in the last few months. Children. Innocent, bright-eyed souls, ripped away from their families. And what has the government done? Absolutely nothing. The people of Parachinar are not just mourning their dead; they’re mourning the loss of hope. How do you look into the eyes of a grieving parent and tell them their child’s life doesn’t matter enough for the government to act? How do you explain the silence of an entire nation?
When protests are the only option
You’ve probably heard about the sit-ins happening in Karachi. Might as well expressed your annoyance with blockade of roads and distressful situation. They’ve been going on for days now, causing massive traffic disruptions. And guess what? The protesters don’t care if you’re annoyed that your commute is taking longer-they care about survival. They care about justice. I am not saying that your feelings are invalid but put yourself in the shoes of a 70-year-old father who lost both of his 17-year-old children to this brutality, these aren’t protests for better wages or cleaner streets. These are protests against genocide. Yes, genocide. When you systematically target a group of people based on their religion, when you allow violence to become a norm, and when you do absolutely nothing to stop it-you’re complicit in genocide. Think about what it takes for a grieving community to leave their homes, their jobs, and their lives to stand on the streets, shouting for justice. They’re tired. They’re angry. But most of all, they’re desperate. Because when your government refuses to protect you, what else can you do but take your pain to the roads and hope someone, somewhere, will listen?
Here’s what really stings: While the streets of Karachi are filled with people crying out for justice, the government is busy throwing fireworks displays for New Year’s Eve. Lavish weddings are happening in glittering halls; millions of rupees being spent on meaningless pageantry. It’s sickening. Think about it. How can those in power sleep at night knowing that their fellow citizens are burying their children? How can they celebrate when Parachinar is drowning in grief? It’s not just tone-deaf-it’s cruel. And it’s not just the leaders. What about those of us who scroll past these headlines? We see the pictures of grieving mothers, of fresh graves, of children who will never come home-and then we move on. Why? Because it’s not happening to us? Because it’s easier to look away? This is more than apathy-it’s complicity. Silence is complicity. If you see a crime happening and say nothing, do nothing, you are part of the problem. And let’s be clear: This isn’t just about the killers who carried out these attacks. It’s about everyone who chooses to stay quiet-the politicians, the bureaucrats, the so-called leaders. It’s also about us, you and me. We scroll through the headlines, maybe feel a pang of sadness, and then move on. But here’s the thing: Moving on is a privilege that the people of Parachinar don’t have. Their children are dead. Their community is being destroyed. And they’re begging us to care.
Some people might shrug this off and say, “Well, religious tensions have always existed.” But does that mean we just accept it? Do we throw up our hands and say, “This is how the world works”? No. Absolutely not. Religious violence isn’t some unchangeable fact of life-it’s a choice. It’s fueled by indifference, by apathy, and by the refusal of those in power to confront the problem. The violence in Parachinar could end tomorrow if the government actually wanted to stop it. But they don’t. What does that say about us as a nation? That we’re content to live in a country where certain lives are valued less than others? That as long as the violence stays “over there,” we’re happy to ignore it? This isn’t just about religious tensions. It’s about humanity. And right now, we’re failing the test. The people out on the streets aren’t asking for the moon. They’re asking for basic human decency. They’re asking the government to acknowledge what’s happening, to protect their community, and to hold the killers accountable. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is. Because instead of showing up for its people, the state is busy ignoring them. It’s as if Parachinar doesn’t exist, as if its people don’t matter. These protesters are not just fighting for Parachinar-they’re fighting for the soul of this country. They’re fighting to remind us that no life is less valuable than another, that we cannot call ourselves a nation if we abandon our own people.
If you’re not angry about this, you should be. Because this isn’t just about Parachinar – it’s about what kind of country we want to live in. A country that turns a blind eye to genocide? A country where the most vulnerable are left to die while the powerful throw parties? The state’s silence is more than just a failure of governance – it’s a moral failure. And it’s not just the government that will be judged for this. History will judge all of us. Do you think the world isn’t watching? Do you think this story won’t reach international headlines? It will. And when it does, what will we say? That we were too busy celebrating New Year’s Eve to notice? That the lives of over 100 children didn’t matter enough to make us act? It’s not too late to make this right. The government can act. They can deploy security forces to protect Parachinar’s people. They can arrest and prosecute the killers. They can publicly condemn these atrocities and stand in solidarity with the victims. But will they? That’s the question. And if they don’t, we can’t let this go. We can’t let this fade into another forgotten headline. Because every time we ignore a tragedy like this, we send a message that some lives matter less than others. The people of Parachinar are crying out for help. The protesters in Karachi are risking everything to make sure their voices are heard.
So, what will we do? Will we join them? Will we amplify their voices? Or will we look away, just like the government has?
The choice is ours.
