The government’s priorities in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, or KP, are clear to anyone observing the last three months under Chief Minister Sohail Afridi. Voters elected them expecting governance, service delivery, and attention to public needs, but what we see instead is a relentless focus on protests and jalsas. The administration appears obsessed with remaining on the streets, holding one protest after another, as if continuous rallies define its legitimacy. This is not governance; the job of a provincial government is not to parade in caravans and take selfies—it is to deliver for the people, to protect their interests, and to advocate for their rights in forums like the CCI and the NFC, where real decisions are made.
In the last 90 days, CM Afridi has spent approximately 20 days in front of Adiala Jail alone. Traveling there takes at least a day each way, plus a day on site. Add to that the days spent attending 4-6 jalsas in Peshawar, Kohat, Haripur, Lahore, and Karachi, and the total time spent on rallies exceeds 75 days. He has taken 15-16 days in Peshawar jalsas alone, several days in Lahore and Karachi, and additional days elsewhere. In total, almost three months have been consumed by appearances, while the actual work of governance has been largely ignored.
During these jalsas, the focus has consistently been on generating publicity—making videos, selfies, and TikTok videos—rather than on meaningful service delivery. Over 900 TikTok videos in a short span have been produced, signaling that political theater has taken precedence over administrative responsibilities. What progress has been made on the ground for the people of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in this period? The evidence is visible in the deprivation and unaddressed public issues across the province.
This obsession with street politics has also overshadowed security concerns. PTI’s main aim appears to be the release of Imran Khan, not governance. Leaders like Pervaiz Khattak, Mehmood Khan, Ali Ameen Gandapur, and now Sohail Afridi, are cycling through positions in a performative manner, each taking turns to gain attention or earn politically, without leaving any meaningful governance legacy. This 12-year-long trend demonstrates a failure to prioritize public service. Instead of resisting militants, improving security, or ensuring development, these leaders are creating narratives, misleading the public, and fostering confusion about their true intentions.
Their fear of the banned TTP is telling. Despite pretending bravery, PTI leaders refuse to condemn the group publicly. This is in contrast to other political parties that clearly label the TTP as a terrorist organization responsible for ongoing violence. The party’s own leader, Imran Khan, admitted in 2023 that he had plans to relocate 40,000 TTP members into Pakistan, facilitated by figures like Faiz Ameed. The results are predictable: PTI leaders now protest operations against these terrorists instead of supporting them. They provide shelter, facilitate extortion payments, and express sympathy toward a banned terrorist organization, while the rest of the political spectrum resists militant pressure and maintains state authority.
The current KP government’s engagement with anti-state actors contradicts its constitutional and legal obligations. Sohail Afridi, as chief minister, should uphold the law, yet negotiations and regular expressions of sympathy for those who reject the constitution are occurring under his administration. If leaders reject the very framework under which they hold office, they have the option to resign, pick up arms in Afghanistan, or contest elections—not claim victimhood while enjoying power and spending public money on personal and political luxuries.
Emotional speeches, selfies, and viral TikTok videos are used to give an illusion of popularity and action. Meanwhile, the province continues to suffer, and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa remains vulnerable. The administrative vacuum allows militants to operate and citizens to bear the cost of political posturing. PTI’s leniency toward anti-state elements, coupled with distraction through jalsas, has created a dangerous precedent where anyone can challenge the law without accountability.
The principle is simple: the state and its institutions—government, constitution, and legal framework—must be prioritized over individuals, parties, or personal agendas. Those who weaken the state, regardless of status or influence, must face justice. Whether former DG ISI, politicians, or even high-ranking judicial figures, no one should be exempt from accountability if they act against the state. Ordinary citizens like Aleema Khan, despite public attention, are far less significant than the state’s integrity. Tough decisions must be taken decisively and consistently to protect the system, its institutions, and the people who rely on governance.
If this policy of leniency continues, the consequences are predictable: everyone will follow their own law, govern by personal whims, and further erode public trust. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa will continue on a path of administrative paralysis, public deprivation, and weakened institutional authority. Political theatrics cannot replace governance, and the people of the province cannot be expected to endure another cycle of performance over substance.
