We have been talking about Tirah for a long time. For weeks, it has been repeatedly stated that terrorists are present there and that their numbers are increasing day by day. According to reports, there are an estimated 5,000 to 6,000 terrorists operating in Tirah.
The concern was clear. If security forces launched an operation in the area, there was a real risk of collateral damage. Civilians could be injured or even martyred. This is why the people of Tirah asked for time. They said that if an operation was inevitable, negotiations should be attempted first.
Negotiations were held. Delegations went to Tirah to talk to the militants, but those talks failed. After that, only one option remained, a military operation.
Before any operation, displacement was unavoidable. Elders from all affected areas jointly decided that people would relocate so that security forces could operate freely and eliminate the terrorists. There was no alternative left.
It was decided that displacement would begin on January 10 and conclude by January 25. After January 25, security forces would begin operations. It was also agreed that the provincial government would provide Rs 250,000 to each family, along with a monthly allowance of Rs 50,000, so families could rent homes instead of staying in camps.
This plan was not secret. The entire country knew about it. If anyone did not know, it was the Chief Minister of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Sohail Afridi.
He did not know that displacement had started in his own region. What was he doing instead? He had time to visit Karachi. He went there again recently for a condolence visit after the martyrdom of one of his party workers. Earlier, he had visited Lahore. He frequently visits Islamabad and was there again.
But he did not go to Tirah. Tirah is not a distant land. It is his ancestral area. It is his own district. Yet he has not set foot there.
In our culture, presence matters. When leaders go to their people, sit with them, listen to them, even speak a few words of sympathy, tensions ease. People feel acknowledged. But this did not happen.
Displacement has already begun. Around 130,000 to 140,000 people are affected. Families are leaving their homes. Meanwhile, the provincial government appears unaware of who is relocating and where they are going. Officials openly say they have not given permission.
If no permission was given, then why did the cabinet approve four billion rupees? For whom was this money approved? If the government did not know what was happening, why did it approve the funds at all?
This contradiction exposes a double standard. On one hand, there is denial. On the other, there is financial approval. The local administration was present in the jirga where the displacement decision was made. Everyone knew. The whole world knew. Only the provincial government claims ignorance.
Giving money alone is not governance. People need facilitation. Journeys that should take a few hours are taking four days. There are long lines of vehicles. Families are stranded on the roads.
There are children, women, elderly people, and the sick. Where are the medical facilities? Where are the doctors? Where are the camps? How are people supposed to eat and drink for four days on the road?
This responsibility lies squarely with the chief minister. Instead, he is busy touring other provinces.
Then came his tweet. He claimed decisions were made in closed rooms, that conspiracies were being hatched against him, and that people were being incited. He said his representatives were treated harshly when they went to the area.
Indeed, his brother and an MPA visited Tirah and faced public anger. People asked where they had been all this time. They accused them of coming only to record videos and protect their image. The anger was so intense that the situation nearly turned violent.
These people are Pakistani citizens. They are not outsiders. They did not come from Afghanistan or India. They are residents of Tirah, his own people.
Instead of standing with them, the chief minister chose denial. He now plans rallies in Haripur and Mansehra. Political processions are being prepared while people in Tirah remain stranded.
Residents say registration is deliberately delayed. The chief minister claims this delay is meant to turn people against him. This explanation rings hollow. Either the government is dangerously incompetent or it is deliberately disengaged.
The operation is imminent. People are already leaving. The chief minister says he does not know and that no one asked him. But he approved the funds. If he approved the money, he had a duty to ask where it was going and why.
Footage is everywhere. People are crying. They are angry. Their language is harsh. That pain should not be dismissed. These are his constituents, his relatives, his district.
Cultural realities cannot be ignored. When leaders go to their people, even if there is anger, it eventually turns into dialogue. But absence only deepens resentment.
Facilities could have been provided. Transport, food, water, medical aid, shelter. The state has the capacity. The provincial government has the authority. Yet nothing meaningful was done.
Registration processes exist partly to prevent militants from slipping out among civilians. Even then, the delay has allowed ample time for terrorists to escape.
The chief minister should have activated his government. Instead, he remained absent. Cabinet meetings were postponed. Political rallies were prioritized.
Governance cannot run on social media. Administration requires presence on the ground. Even opposition voices now argue that this policy risks pushing angry civilians into confrontation with security forces.
The irony is cruel. When representatives finally went to Tirah, they faced public fury. Not because of conspiracies, but because of neglect.
People remember pain. They remember who stood with them and who disappeared. This will not be forgotten.
Even within his own party, voices are emerging. Many believe Sohail Afridi fears that if it becomes known he supported or approved the operation, his own party will turn against him. He has seen what happened to others before him.
That fear explains the silence, the denial, the distance. And it is this fear, more than governance, that now seems to shape his decisions, because he knows that if the truth fully comes out, he may not only lose public trust, but also the chair he occupies as chief minister of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.
