• The modern state is a multi-layered system. On the surface, democracy is visible, but beneath it, power is exercised by other forces. Understanding this reality is essential, as it reveals that elected representatives are not the ultimate decision-makers but only one component of a much larger system.

By Noor Muhammad Marri, Advocate | Islamabad

Modern political systems present themselves as reflections of the will of the people. Constitutions, elections, parliaments, and public debate create the impression that power flows from the people upward to those who govern. However, the reality is far more complex. Real power often does not lie with elected representatives, but with permanent and less visible institutions commonly referred to as the “deep state.” In this way, democracy is not entirely absent, but it becomes limited—where elected bodies largely serve a symbolic or formal role.

The fundamental principle of democracy is that elected representatives govern on behalf of the people. Institutions such as the United States Senate or European parliaments are meant to legislate and hold governments accountable. But the real question is whether they truly exercise power. In most cases, the answer is no.

In matters of war and foreign policy—the most critical decisions of any state—the role of elected institutions is often minimal. Whether it is the formation of NATO or conflicts such as the Vietnam War and the Korean War, these decisions are typically shaped by military and strategic establishments. Parliaments frequently act only to endorse or legitimize decisions that have already been made.

This demonstrates that elected bodies often do not originate decisions; rather, they formalize them. Real authority tends to reside within intelligence agencies, military institutions, and entrenched bureaucracies. Organizations like the Central Intelligence Agency maintain continuity and influence regardless of changes in political leadership.

As a result, even when governments change, policies often remain largely the same. New leaders operate within an existing system that they do not fully control. These deeper institutions impose constraints that limit the ability of elected officials to bring about fundamental change.

Europe is often presented as a model where democracy and welfare states reflect the will of the people. The European Union is frequently cited in this regard. Yet even there, key decisions are often made by executive bodies and higher-level institutions rather than directly by the public.

During the Cold War, Western Europe aligned with the United States, while Eastern Europe fell under the influence of the Soviet Union. These alignments were shaped more by geopolitical pressures than by direct public choice.

In many developing countries, this imbalance is even more pronounced. Elected governments coexist with powerful military or bureaucratic establishments that exercise real authority. Elections take place, but actual decision-making power often remains concentrated in these unelected structures.

China represents a different model. The Communist Party of China does not rely on electoral democracy but governs through centralized control. Here too, decisions are made within the state structure rather than through direct public participation.

Across all these examples, one consistent pattern emerges: elected institutions do not possess complete or decisive power. They are part of the system, but the real decisions are frequently made by deeper, more permanent structures.

Therefore, the idea of a purely “people’s government” is not entirely a reality but rather a partial truth. Democracy exists, but it has clear limits. Real power often lies in institutions that operate beyond the reach of elections.

In conclusion, the modern state is a multi-layered system. On the surface, democracy is visible, but beneath it, power is exercised by other forces. Understanding this reality is essential, as it reveals that elected representatives are not the ultimate decision-makers but only one component of a much larger system.

Read: The fall of the Old Order

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Noor Muhammad Marri Advocate & Mediator is based in Islamabad

The post Hidden hands steer the ship’s wheel first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Raphic Burdo

Power rarely announces itself. It accumulates, then alters the mind. At first, it feels earned. A result of effort, discipline, clarity. Then it becomes assumed. Expected. Natural. And eventually, it risks becoming identity. This is the turning point; quiet, almost invisible. What you hold begins to hold you.

Power, like wealth and fame, is not substance. It is circumstance. It gathers, it amplifies, and it moves on. Not owned. Not permanent. Not you. Yet the mind resists this truth. You will be praised more than you deserve. You will be agreed with more than is accurate. You will be deferred to more than be healthy. And slowly, without resistance, you may begin to believe it.

There is a danger in being surrounded by softened voices.  When disagreement fades, clarity fades with it.  When truth is filtered, judgment distorts.  And in that distortion, arrogance takes root; not as intent, but as drift. There is also a deeper illusion that you are the author of outcomes, that success is self-contained, that control is complete.

But no ascent is solitary.  Chance, timing, context, and unseen hands shape every rise. To forget this is to harden. To remember it is to remain human. The discipline, then, is not to reject power, but to relate to it correctly. To hold it without attachment. To use it without display.  To exercise it without becoming it.

Read: How to Manage Negative, Dominant Power Dynamics

Power can contract or it can expand. In one form, it narrows the world, placing the self at the center and others at the edge. In another, it enlarges the world, creating space, dignity, and opportunity beyond the self. The difference is intention. One path seeks recognition. The other seeks contribution. One accumulates. The other distributes. One is visible. The other is enduring. Return, then, to a simple question:  Am I carrying this role, or is this role carrying me? If the role carries you, it will consume you.  If you carry it with awareness, it will pass through you without distortion. Because it will pass. Power will move.  Wealth will shift. Fame will fade. What remains is quieter and more exacting, the imprint on people, the strength of institutions left behind, the integrity of decisions made when no one was watching.

To live well is not to avoid power, but to pass through it unchanged at the core. To remain steady when elevated, measured when praised, aware when obeyed. And to remember, always: You are not the source of the light; but only its bearer for a brief moment.

Read: A Gentle Tale Unfolds in Shadows

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Raphic Burdo is student of literature and psychology. He podcasts YT @Burdo Digital

The post Dynamics of Power: Power Makes You Weak first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• Globally, cities follow clear frameworks: names linked to geography, historical figures, cultural landmarks, flora, values, or numerical systems.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

Names are not just labels. They carry identity, history, dignity, and direction. They shape how people see a place and how residents see themselves.

Yet in many cities, especially in Karachi, the naming of roads, streets, and residential areas often feels accidental, arbitrary, or inherited from informal habits rather than thoughtful civic planning. From Golimar to Bhains Colony, from Punjab Colony to Gidar Colony, from Khamosh Colony to Bewah Colony, and even places like Mukka Chowk, the city is dotted with names that raise eyebrows, provoke jokes, discomfort, or quiet embarrassment, or silently reinforce social stereotypes.

These labels are not harmless. They become part of official addresses, identity documents, school forms, job applications, and property records. A neighborhood name follows its residents for life.

This brings us to a fundamental question:

Who actually decides these names?

Who Is Responsible for Naming?

In principle, naming roads and neighborhoods should be the responsibility of municipal authorities and city governments. Ideally, such decisions should pass through town or district administrations, municipal corporations, development authorities, elected local representatives, and approved naming committees

These bodies are supposed to consider historical relevance, cultural value, geography, and civic dignity before approving any name.

But in reality, especially in rapidly expanding cities like Karachi, many areas are named informally first by settlers, developers, land grabbers, or local communities and later quietly accepted by authorities without proper review.

Once a name enters daily usage, it becomes difficult to change, no matter how inappropriate or meaningless it may be.

When Names Become Casual and Harmful

Some names originate from physical features like cattle markets, open grounds, or wildlife once seen there. Others come from ethnic associations or temporary conditions. Over time, however, these names harden into official identities.

The problem is that many such labels sound derogatory or humiliating, carry animal references, reinforce regional or ethnic divisions, reduce entire communities to jokes, and lack historical or cultural depth.

Imagine growing up in an area whose name literally translates into something mocking, gloomy, or degrading. What does that do to a child’s sense of pride? To a resident’s sense of belonging?

A neighborhood name is printed on identity documents, delivery addresses, school forms, job applications, and property records. It becomes part of one’s public identity.

Words matter.

Why Proper Naming Is So Important

Thoughtful naming of streets and areas is not cosmetic; it has real social, psychological, and administrative impact. A well-chosen name gives residents pride, identity, and dignity. A careless one quietly erodes it. Roads and neighborhoods can honor scholars, artists, freedom fighters, educators, or local heroes, preserving history and collective memory for future generations.

In urban planning, logical naming helps emergency services, postal systems, tourists, and even digital maps function efficiently during navigation. For social harmony, neutral, inclusive names avoid reinforcing ethnic or class divisions. A city’s image reflects itself through its place names. Visitors judge civic seriousness through such details.

From Random Labels to Responsible Choices

Globally, cities follow clear frameworks: names linked to geography, historical figures, cultural landmarks, flora, values, or numerical systems. There is consultation, documentation, and long-term vision.

Contrast that with our reality, where a chowk gets named after a random incident, a colony after an animal, and a street after whoever arrived first.

This is not urban planning. This is urban improvisation.

International Examples: When Naming Becomes Civic Culture

Around the world, place-naming is treated as a serious civic responsibility.

 Paris

Many streets in Paris are named after philosophers, writers, artists, and historical figures. Each name reflects cultural heritage and intellectual legacy. Extensive historical research precedes approval.

 London

London operates formal Street Naming Committees. Names are linked to geography, traditional professions, or national figures, and local communities are consulted.

New York City

New York frequently honors civil rights leaders and social reformers through street co-naming, allowing historic names to coexist with honorary titles.

Singapore

Singapore follows national naming guidelines emphasizing cultural balance, linguistic sensitivity, and historical continuity. No name is allowed to demean any group.

Time for a Naming Policy

Karachi and cities across Pakistan urgently need a standardized, transparent naming policy that includes, a dedicated naming authority, public consultation mechanism, cultural and historical review panels, linguistic sensitivity checks, periodic revision of inappropriate names, and replacement of degrading or meaningless labels.

Renaming is not erasing history; it is correcting neglect. Cities evolve. Names should evolve with dignity.

In essence, we invest billions in flyovers, roads, and housing schemes, yet spend almost no thought on what we call them.

But names outlive concrete. They shape memory, they carry respect or disrespect. If we truly care about our cities, we must start caring about their language, because a road is not just asphalt, a street is not just a passage, and a neighborhood is not just land. They are living chapters of a city’s story, and every story deserves a name chosen with wisdom.

Read: Sweden Café Echoes of Moro Tailors

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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Power and Neglect Behind Naming Streets first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Noor Muhammad Marri, Advocate | Islamabad

The question of why nations prosper or decline is not merely an academic inquiry; it is a moral examination of power itself. Every society carries the imprint of its institutional choices—visible in its courts, its markets, its educational systems, and above all, in the dignity or humiliation of its citizens. This narrative is important not because it offers a new economic formula, but because it exposes an old political truth: poverty is not inherited, it is produced. Nations fail when power refuses to be accountable.

In post‑colonial societies, particularly in a country like Pakistan, this truth is unsettling because it deprives us of comforting excuses. Geography cannot be blamed, for regions poorer than ours have achieved prosperity. Culture cannot be blamed, for societies far more fragmented have managed to build functional states. What ultimately remains is power—who holds it, how it is exercised, and in whose interest. As Eqbal Ahmad warned, “States decay when power becomes an end in itself rather than a means of service.” This warning lies at the heart of this argument.

Institutions may broadly be divided into two types: inclusive and extractive. This distinction is not merely technical; it is deeply philosophical. Inclusive institutions are founded on trust in human potential. They assume that if people are provided security and freedom, they will innovate and create. Extractive institutions, by contrast, are built on suspicion; they assume people must be controlled, managed, and squeezed. One worldview trusts society, the other fears it.

Inclusive economic institutions protect property rights, enforce contracts impartially, and allow individuals the freedom to choose their occupations. More importantly, they distribute opportunity. They send a clear signal to society that effort will be rewarded rather than punished. Such institutions do not guarantee equality of outcomes, but they do ensure equality of possibility. This is why innovation flourishes where institutions are inclusive: once human potential is unlocked, it becomes the most reliable engine of growth.

Extractive economic institutions, on the other hand, exist to benefit a narrow elite. They monopolize opportunity, restrict entry, and transform the state into a mechanism of rent extraction. In Pakistan, this reality is visible in protected sectors, cartels, and selective accountability. Laws exist, but they bend upward. As the late Justice Dorab Patel observed, “When law protects the powerful and disciplines the weak, it ceases to be law and becomes an instrument of domination.” This is extraction masquerading as order.

The central insight of this argument is that economic institutions are always subordinate to political institutions. Markets do not exist above power; they are embedded within it. Where political authority is unaccountable, economic inclusion becomes impossible. Development, therefore, is not a technocratic challenge but a constitutional one.

Read: The Origins of Power, Prosperity, and Poverty

Inclusive political institutions are characterized by pluralism and restraint. Power is divided, contested, and limited by law. No individual or institution stands above accountability. This idea echoes Montesquieu’s principle that power must check power, and Ambedkar’s insistence that constitutional morality must restrain social and political dominance. Inclusive politics is not founded on virtue, but on limits.

Extractive political institutions, by contrast, centralize authority and personalize rule. Decisions flow downward, but accountability never flows upward. Dissent is treated as disorder and opposition as disloyalty. Such systems often claim efficiency, yet what they truly fear is autonomy. They suppress society in the name of stability, failing to understand that stability without legitimacy is merely a postponed crisis.

Pakistan’s experience painfully illustrates this reality. The country oscillates between controlled democracy and overt authoritarianism, yet extraction remains constant. Faces change, but institutions do not. As Bacha Khan warned, “A nation that replaces its masters without breaking its chains remains enslaved.” Institutional continuity without reform produces stagnation, not progress.

This narrative also dismantles the comforting myth of ignorance—the belief that poor nations suffer because their rulers do not know what to do. The reality is more troubling. Elites often know precisely which policies would broaden prosperity, but they resist them because inclusion threatens privilege. Poverty, therefore, is not a failure of knowledge but a success of domination.

This pattern is global. Latin American oligarchies, African post‑colonial elites, Middle Eastern monarchies, and South Asian power blocs differ in form but not in function. They construct extractive institutions while speaking the language of modernization. Frantz Fanon captured this pathology with precision when he wrote that the national bourgeoisie merely replaces the colonial power without inheriting its capacity.

The idea of growth through coercion further sharpens this argument. The Soviet Union, early phases of China, and certain contemporary authoritarian states demonstrate that repression can generate rapid growth. Yet such growth is fragile. It relies on mobilization rather than innovation. Once easy gains are exhausted, repression replaces reform. As Hannah Arendt observed, violence can destroy power, but it cannot create it.

Inclusive systems may appear slower and more chaotic, but they possess a deeper strength: adaptability. They allow creative destruction to operate. Elites cannot permanently block change because power is not monopolized. This is why the Industrial Revolution emerged in England rather than Spain, and why technological leadership today remains closely tied to institutional openness.

The English experience, though incomplete, remains instructive. Inclusion expanded gradually and unevenly, but the subordination of the crown to law created a political environment in which economic inclusion could deepen over time. Progress was contested, not gifted. This lesson matters for societies that wait for saviors instead of building constraints.

Philosophically, this argument rejects determinism. Institutions are human creations, not natural laws. They are the outcome of choice, conflict, and compromise. Failure, therefore, is not destiny. Colonialism distorted institutions, but post‑colonial elites chose whether to reform them or inherit them unchanged.

In Pakistan, development is often reduced to infrastructure—roads, dams, corridors. This analysis reminds us that without institutional inclusion, infrastructure becomes extraction by concrete. Wealth flows upward; opportunity does not circulate. The state appears strong, but society remains fragile.

The moral core of this narrative is simple yet demanding: prosperity without dignity is not development. Inclusive institutions matter because they recognize individuals as agents rather than instruments. They create citizens, not subjects. In this sense, economic inclusion is itself a political ethic.

In closing, this is not merely an economic argument but a challenge to power. Nations do not fail because they lack resources or talent; they fail because those who rule fear inclusion more than poverty. Until power is constrained and fairly shared, growth will remain episodic and justice incomplete. Institutions shape destiny—and institutions are not accidents, but conscious choices.

Read: The Paradox of Merit

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Noor Muhammad Marri is Advocate & Mediator, based in Islamabad

The post Power, Institutions, and the Poverty Puzzle first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• Europe’s civilization was born not from harmony but from conflict—first with its own gods, and then with the rest of the world

Noor Muhammad Marri Advocate

The struggle between the Church and the feudal kings in Europe was not about religion in its pure sense; it was a struggle for power and control over the social and political order. In medieval Europe, two authorities dominated the life—the Church, which claimed divine authority over the soul, and the kings and nobles, who ruled the land through force and lineage. Their conflict, often called “religious wars,” was a war over power, not faith. Both sides used religion as a justification, but what they truly sought was authority. When the Pope and the Emperor fought over who had the right to appoint bishops, it was not a question of theology but of control. Neither side fought for the common man; they fought to secure their own interests.

In those times, the masses were closer to the Church than to the feudal lords, because the Church provided spiritual comfort, moral guidance, and some protection in a brutal and unjust system. The common people found hope in faith when worldly life offered none. However, over the centuries, as the Church accumulated wealth and became corrupt—selling indulgences and exploiting believers—the sympathy of many began to shift. The Reformation, led by figures like Martin Luther and John Calvin, divided Europe. In the north, many supported Protestant reformers, partly because their kings wanted to free themselves from papal influence. In the south, people largely remained loyal to the Catholic Church. The masses were thus divided along lines of geography, propaganda, and power rather than a clear moral or ideological stance.

When we say that Europe progressed because it “got rid of religion,” it would be more accurate to say that Europe limited religion’s dominance. The Renaissance and Enlightenment did not destroy faith but separated it from science, governance, and philosophy. Religion was confined to personal life; public life began to rely on reason, observation, and secular law. This separation of the sacred and the secular opened the path for modern education, scientific discovery, democracy, and capitalism. Europe did not stop believing in God; it simply refused to let the Church define truth or law. That transformation—placing reason above dogma—was the foundation of its development and the Industrial Revolution.

However, once Europe freed itself from the internal dominance of the Church, it did not become peaceful in the moral sense. Its newly awakened power turned outward. Industrial expansion created a hunger for markets, raw materials, and labor, and this energy led to colonialism. The same Europe that claimed to have embraced human reason and liberty began to conquer, enslave, and exploit foreign lands in Asia, Africa, and the Americas. The peace achieved within Europe was maintained by exporting violence beyond its borders. Europe’s freedom was built on the unfreedom of others.

Even after the decline of religious authority, Europe did not stop fighting wars. The nature of its wars changed—from religious to national and imperial. After the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, which ended the Thirty Years’ War, Europe stopped fighting for faith but began fighting for power and territory. France, Britain, and later Germany fought repeatedly—from the Napoleonic Wars to the First and Second World Wars. The dream of peace only began to take shape after 1945, with the creation of the European Union, and even that peace depended heavily on the military protection and economic influence of the United States.

The truth is that the European journey from faith to reason, from feudalism to industrial modernity, was not a moral transformation but a historical one. The war between church and kings was a struggle for dominance; the masses were instruments in that game. Europe’s progress came from the containment of religion, not its destruction. But the freedom it achieved internally was mirrored by oppression abroad. Its peace was not natural but manufactured, built through centuries of conquest and blood. Europe’s civilization, in short, was born not from harmony but from conflict—first with its own gods, and then with the rest of the world.

Read: Why Politics Fails – A Critical Summary

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Noor Muhammad is a Lawyer and Mediator, based in Islamabad. Email: noormuhammad@gmail.com

The post Power, not Faith: Church versus Kings first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• The time has come to unpack what resilience actually means for a society like Pakistan’s, where poverty, governance failures, and climate stress combine to deepen vulnerability.
• Pakistan’s future resilience will depend on how courageously it turns recurring crises into opportunities to rebuild smarter, fairer, and stronger.

By Mohammad Ehsan Leghari

Introduction

Pakistan stands on the frontlines of a global climate emergency that has become increasingly personal, visible, and punishing. Over the past decade and a half, the country has endured a relentless sequence of floods, each more devastating than the last. Since the 2010 catastrophe—which affected more than 20 million people and crippled vital infrastructure—the country has faced inundations in 2011, 2012, 2015, and then in 2022! Almost one third of the country was under water during the 2022 floods, more than 1,730 lives were lost, and economic damages surpassed 30 billion USD.

And again in 2025! The latest floods have left over 6.5 million people affected, displaced thousands of families, destroyed more than 12,500 homes, and taken at least 1,006 lives, with losses in agriculture and infrastructure estimated to exceed $1.5 billion (UNDP, 2025; Reuters, 2025b). Vast farming belts in South Punjab were submerged as 220,000 hectares of rice fields went underwater, forcing over a million people to evacuate. By mid of October 2025, still some area in south Punjab are using boats to commute.

The kacha (Riverine) area of the Indus in Sindh was also vastly inundated, which is indeed supposed to be flooded during high river flows. The political economy of the kacha area is now being redefined as an area enclosed by embankments on both sides to channelize the Indus River and sustain the functions of the three major barrages. Yet we must ask how much of this land was cultivated before the barrage system, and what the population density was then. Making it a permanently settled area can change a flood emergency into a catastrophe. In the post-barrage era, a drastic reduction of floodplain forests has intensified river meandering. It is also important to carry out the comparison between land under cultivation before and after the barrages’ construction, and the trade-offs between economic viability, ecological sustainability, and safety. The balance between “engineering systems” and “non-structural measures” must be examined more critically. A functional riverine zone is needed. It means that the economic and societal model in the riverine area has to be in accordance with the indigenous knowledge and way of living in the riverine area. That is, no hindrances to the flow of water during flood months (which hardly remain three months) and then utilization of nine non-flood months for sustainable economic actions.

Each disaster exposes the same truth: Pakistan remains trapped in a reactive cycle, learning too little and preparing too late. The term “resilience” now appears in every donor report, UN strategy, and government document. Yet, as many critics have noted, it often remains a slogan—a ritual invocation of progress that never quite translates into meaningful change (Folke et al., 2010; UNDP, 2025). The time has come to unpack what resilience actually means for a society like Pakistan’s, where poverty, governance failures, and climate stress combine to deepen vulnerability.

The Real Meaning of Resilience

Resilience is not about merely “bouncing back.” It is about absorbing shocks, adapting to changing conditions, and transforming when the old ways no longer work (Folke et al., 2010). In ecology and social systems alike, resilience represents a capacity—the ability to persist, to adapt, and when necessary, to shift course entirely.

For Pakistan, persistence has meant surviving through floods year after year: moving to higher ground, rebuilding damaged homes, and relying on aid to get through the next season. But this form of resilience—survival without learning—has clear limits. The 2025 floods again revealed how fragile this model is: once farmland is washed away, communities cannot simply “bounce back.” They need support systems that allow adaptation—better drainage, crop diversification, community-led disaster planning, and decentralized decision-making (Nazir and Lohano, 2022).

Adaptability, then, is about learning from crisis. It is about reforming governance, revising building codes, and integrating new knowledge into old systems. Where adaptation fails, systems stagnate in what scholars call “rigidity traps”—structures that refuse to change despite overwhelming evidence of their failure (Folke et al., 2010). Pakistan’s response to repeated floods shows this clearly: disaster agencies activate relief mechanisms but rarely evolve institutional learning.

Transformability—the third and most radical element—involves shifting to entirely new systems when the old ones become untenable. For Pakistan, this could mean reimagining its dependence on flood-prone agriculture or incentivizing urban relocation from high-risk areas. As scholars have noted, major disasters can open “windows of opportunity” for transformation if societies are willing to combine local knowledge with technical and financial support from donors (Anum Aleha et al., 2024). Yet such windows close quickly when recovery focuses only on rebuilding what was lost, not rethinking what must change.

The Geography of Vulnerability

Flood impacts in Pakistan are deeply shaped by spatial patterns—by where people live, how land is used, and how connected or isolated communities are. This is what scholars call spatial resilience (Cumming, 2011). A flood in a densely populated plain like Sindh has very different consequences from one in sparsely populated Balochistan. Geography determines not only exposure but also recovery: how fast assistance arrives, how communities reconnect, and how economies restart.

Recent assessments of Pakistan’s flood management landscape underscore how spatial mismanagement amplifies vulnerability. According to the DRR-Team White Paper (van Steenbergen et al., 2023), the absence of coordinated spatial planning has distorted natural drainage paths and weakened the nation’s ability to evacuate floodwaters effectively. The report highlights that bridges and road infrastructure built across floodplains without proper cross-drainage have constricted the Indus River’s capacity, causing prolonged inundation in Sindh. This structural distortion of natural hydrology demonstrates that resilience cannot be built without integrating spatial planning, drainage management, and inter-provincial coordination into flood resilience strategies.

When connectivity breaks down—when roads, bridges, and communication networks collapse—both ecosystems and social systems fragment. The 2025 floods isolated nearly 1,400 villages, cutting them off from medical and food supplies. This fragmentation mirrors what ecologists describe when habitats break apart, reducing biodiversity and recovery potential. Socially, it translates into exclusion: rural communities left stranded, unable to access state support or even early warning systems (BBC, 2025; Cumming, 2011).

To build spatial resilience, Pakistan needs to think beyond provincial boundaries and invest in networks that link communities—raised roads with waterway underneath, reliable evacuation routes, and digital systems for warnings and coordination. Projects like the Building Disaster Resilience in Pakistan (BDRP), led by UNDP, WFP, and FAO, have demonstrated how coordinated geographic targeting can strengthen local preparedness (UNDP, 2025). But such programs need continuity, not pilot status.

Measuring What Matters

Resilience cannot remain an abstract aspiration; it must be measurable. Melissa Parsons and colleagues (2016) propose a useful framework distinguishing between coping capacities—immediate responses like rescue and relief—and adaptive capacities, the longer-term ability to learn and transform.

In Pakistan, the coping dimension remains weak. The 2025 floods battered factories, homes, and fiscal stability, exposing how poverty and economic fragility amplify disaster losses (Reuters, 2025b). Meanwhile, adaptive capacity—governance, leadership, and community engagement—remains the weakest link. Institutions rarely learn from past failures. Policies exist but are not enforced. Communities participate little in decisions that affect them.

Developing a “Pakistan Resilience Index,” inspired by models like Australia’s ANDRI, could allow policymakers to track progress across regions and sectors. It could measure not just infrastructure readiness but also volunteerism, social capital, and women’s participation in local disaster planning (Parsons et al., 2016). Without gender-sensitive and socially inclusive metrics, resilience risks becoming another technocratic buzzword rather than a lived social capacity.

Why Resilience Remains Elusive

Pakistan’s repeated disasters reveal that resilience cannot be built through aid alone. Billions in donor funding after 2010, 2022, and now 2025 have delivered some localized improvements—resilient schools, improved drainage in select districts, and community awareness programs (UNDP, 2025). Yet, the broader system continues to falter because of governance inertia, fragmented institutions, and weak policy enforcement (Oxfam, 2023). The National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) often drafts strategies that fail to move beyond paper due to poor coordination and chronic underfunding.

As the White Paper (van Steenbergen et al., 2023) notes, flood resilience in Pakistan is as much a governance challenge as a technical one. The fragmentation of institutional mandates and unclear responsibilities between provinces have repeatedly undermined efforts to manage floodwaters.

Mental health and social resilience remain the most neglected dimensions. Studies after the 2022 floods revealed deep psychological trauma among displaced families, particularly women and children, with limited access to counselling or community support (The Critical Review of Social Sciences Studies, 2024). The 2025 floods have repeated this pattern, exposing how physical reconstruction without social healing cannot sustain long-term resilience.

Toward a Culture of True Resilience

True resilience requires a shift from reaction to anticipation. It means mainstreaming climate risk into planning, building flood-resilient housing, reforming local governance, and nurturing community agency. It calls for what scholars describe as “learning-oriented governance”—institutions that evolve through experience rather than repeating the same errors (Folke et al., 2010).

For Pakistan, resilience must begin at the grassroots: through education, social networks, and locally led preparedness. Yet it must also extend upward, linking local efforts to national frameworks and global climate cooperation. The resilience Pakistan needs is not about endurance alone; it is about intelligent adaptation and deliberate transformation.

With climate shocks growing harsher each year, the luxury of complacency is over. Pakistan’s future resilience will depend on how courageously it turns recurring crises into opportunities to rebuild smarter, fairer, and stronger.

Read: How Resilience Helps You Cope With Life’s Challenges

References

Al Jazeera (2025) ‘Impact of climate change a harsh reality facing Pakistan’, 19 September.

Anum Aleha, S.M., Zahra, M., Memon, A.W., & Mahar, W.A. (2024) Measuring Community Disaster Resilience in Southern Punjab: A Study of 2022 Floods in Pakistan. Natural and Applied Sciences International Journal (NASIJ).

BBC (2025) ‘Pakistan: More than two million evacuated from deadly floods’, 11 September.

Cumming, G.S. (2011) ‘Spatial resilience: integrating landscape ecology, resilience, and sustainability’, Landscape Ecology, 26(7), pp. 899–909.

Folke, C., Carpenter, S.R., Walker, B., Scheffer, M., Chapin, T., & Rockström, J. (2010) ‘Resilience thinking: integrating resilience, adaptability and transformability’, Ecology and Society, 15(4), art. 20.

Nazir, A., & Das Lohano, H. (2022) ‘Resilience through crop diversification in Pakistan’, in Haque, A.K.E., Mukhopadhyay, P., et al. (eds.) Climate Change and Community Resilience. Springer.

Oxfam (2023) Pakistan Flood Recovery and Resilience Assessment. Islamabad: Oxfam.

Parsons, M., Glavac, S., Hastings, P., Marshall, G., McGregor, J., McNeill, J., Morley, P., Reeve, I. and Stayner, R. (2016) ‘Top-down assessment of disaster resilience: A conceptual framework using coping and adaptive capacities’, International Journal of Disaster Risk Reduction, 19, pp. 1–11.

Reuters (2025b) ‘Pakistan floods batter fields, factories and fiscal plans’, 23 September.

The Critical Review of Social Sciences Studies (2024) Psychological Resilience in Flood-Affected Communities of Pakistan.

UNDP (2025) Resilience After Catastrophe. Islamabad: United Nations Development Programme.

van Steenbergen, F., de Sonneville, J., & Saaf, E.J. (2023) Improving Flood Resilience in Pakistan: A White Paper. DRR-Team Mission Report, Pakistan, 30 January 2023.

Read: Jamshoro needs Academic City Development Plan

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Mohammad Ehsan Leghari is Member (Sindh), Indus River System Authority, and former Managing Director, SIDA.

The post Resilience: Endurance in adversity first appeared on Sindh Courier.

If the parallels to the electrification boom remain unnoticed, the chances are slim.

By Nazarul Islam | USA

A century ago, during the 1920s, a major technology boom drove a new wave of innovation, productivity, and social change. It was part of the broader Second Industrial Revolution and was defined by the widespread adoption of electricity, the affordable automobile, and mass media like radio.

Key innovations of widespread electrification:

By 1929, 70 % of manufacturing was electrified and millions of homes were powered for the first time. The development of cheaper, more efficient electric generators and motors transformed both factories and home life.

Automobile mass production: Henry Ford’s assembly line drastically reduced the cost of automobiles, making the Model T affordable for average families. The number of registered vehicles in the U.S. more than doubled from 9 million in 1920 to 20 million by 1925.

The rise of radio: The first commercial radio station began broadcasting in 1920, and by the end of the decade, millions of homes owned a radio. Radio broadcasting created a shared national culture by allowing people across the country to listen to the same news, concerts, and sports.

Modern consumer appliances: Electrification enabled the invention and mass production of labor-saving devices for the home, including refrigerators, washing machines, and vacuum cleaners.

Aviation breakthroughs: Charles Lindbergh’s solo transatlantic flight in 1927 captured the public imagination and ushered in an era of commercial aviation.

Technological advances in film: Silent films dominated the early 1920s, but the introduction of “talking pictures,” like The Jazz Singer in 1927, transformed the film industry and popular culture.

Other notable inventions: This era also saw the invention of frozen food, the electric shaver, the pop-up toaster, and the traffic signal with a warning light.

Social and economic impact: Growth of consumer culture: Mass-produced goods and the new technology of mass advertising created a booming consumer economy. The expansion of credit allowed more people to purchase new cars and appliances.

Greater mobility and urbanization: The affordability of cars encouraged the growth of suburbs, giving people more freedom to live farther from their jobs. Cars also reduced the isolation of rural life.

New forms of entertainment: Radio and movies became central to American leisure time, creating a national popular culture and helping to popularize jazz music, which was key to the Harlem Renaissance.

Changes to home life: Household appliances reduced the time and effort required for domestic chores, particularly for women, contributing to shifts in gender roles and expectations.

The foundation of modern industry: Innovations in factory workflow, such as the assembly line, were perfected, vastly increasing productivity and spurring the growth of industries like steel, oil, and rubber.

Cultural shifts and tensions: While technology drove prosperity, it also amplified cultural tensions between modern lifestyles and traditional values. The rise of a celebrity culture and new social norms, like those of the “flapper,” fueled societal debates.

The electrification boom of the 1920s set the United States up for a century of industrial dominance and powered a global economic revolution.

But before electricity faded from a red-hot tech sector into invisible infrastructure, the world went through profound social change, a speculative bubble, a stock market crash, mass unemployment and a decade of global turmoil.

Understanding this history matters now. Artificial intelligence (AI) is a similar general purpose technology and looks set to reshape every aspect of the economy. But it’s already showing some of the hallmarks of electricity’s rise, peak and bust in the decade known as the Roaring Twenties.

The 1920s were the single most consequential decade for the lives of everyday Americans. This is when the contours of modern life emerged.

Technological innovations diffuse by an S shape.

Something is invented; it trundles along for a couple of decades; then it becomes a toy of the rich, perhaps; then it spreads quickly through the popu­lation; finally, we spend another couple of decades making it better. The S-curve applies to airplanes, cars, or practically any other technology you can think of.

The middle of the S-curves of many important technologies coincided in the 1920s. Growth wasn’t about the accumulation of stuff; it was about changing the way everyday people lived their lives.

At the beginning of the 1920s, about 30 percent of American homes had electricity. By the end of the decade, nearly 70 percent had been electrified. Famously, the Vermont home of Calvin Coolidge’s father had no electricity in 1923 when word arrived that President Warren Harding had died. That’s why Coolidge took the oath of office by kerosene light.

Electricity improved during that time, too, as alternating current, or AC, became standardized. With that came electric lights instead of kerosene lamps, and electric appliances such as the iron, the toaster, the washing machine, and the vacuum cleaner. Electricity revolutionized home life, removing much of the ­drudgery.

Electricity changed the economy as well. In 1914, only 30 percent of manufacturing was electrified; by 1929, that number had reached 70 percent.

How did electricity get to homes and factories? Was there a big federal program to build the massive infrastructure of power stations and wires needed? No, private utilities built it.

In 1920, 20 percent of people had automobiles; by 1929, 60 percent of families owned cars. There were 9 vehicles for every 10 households. The automobile revo­lution happened in one decade.

Cars weren’t just a convenience; they brought a massive change in how people lived their lives. Previously, people needed to live right near a soot-emitting factory where they worked. Now they could move somewhere where they could have a more pleasant life. The car helped to make that possible.

The automobile also eased rural isolation. By 1929, most farmers had cars to get them to town. The car connected them.

The transportation revolution didn’t occur because the federal government offered tax breaks and subsidies. There was no federal spending bill to build the network of gas stations motorists needed. No, the filling stations came in on their own when people figured out that they could make money operating them.

The 1920s saw a revolution in communications as well. The telephone, the phono­graph, radios, and movies became ubiquitous parts of daily life. Radio went from essentially zero at the beginning of the decade to a pervasive feature of Ameri­can life. Broadcast networks were born in the 1920s, creating mass media.

How did these changes happen? As usual, pretty much everything occurred despite the government.

Indoor plumbing, water, sewer, and gas all were practically absent in 1920 and close to universal in 1930. That meant the end of the outhouse, of fetching water from a pump, of cooking over a coal stove

The reckoning that followed could be about to repeat.

First, arrived the electricity boom: A century ago, when people at the New York Stock Exchange talked about the latest “high tech” investments, they were talking about electricity.

Investors poured money into suppliers such as Electric Bond & Share and Commonwealth Edison, as well as companies using electricity in new ways, such as General Electric (for appliances), AT&T (telecommunications) and RCA (radio).

It wasn’t a hard sell. Electricity brought modern movies, new magazines from faster printing presses, and evenings by the radio.

It was also an obvious economic game changer, promising automation, higher productivity, and a future full of leisure and consumption. In 1920, even Soviet revolutionary leader Vladimir Lenin declared: “Communism is Soviet power plus the electrification of the whole country.”

Today, a similar global urgency grips both communist and capitalist countries about AI, not least because of military applications.

Then came the peak

Like AI stocks now, electricity stocks “became favorites in the boom even though their fundamentals were difficult to assess”.

Market power was concentrated. Big players used complex holding structures to dodge rules and sell shares in basically the same companies to the public under different names.

US finance Professor Harold Bierman, who argued that attempts to regulate overpriced utility stocks were a direct trigger for the crash, estimated that utilities made up 18% of the New York Stock Exchange in September 1929. Within electricity supply, 80% of the market was owned by just a handful of holding firms.

But that’s just the utilities. As today with AI, there was a much larger ecosystem.

Almost every 1920s “megacap” (the largest companies at the time) owed something to electrification. General Motors, for example, had overtaken Ford using new electric production techniques.

Essentially, electricity became the backdrop to the market in the same way AI is doing, as businesses work to become “AI-enabled”.

No wonder that today tech giants command over a third of the S&P 500 index and nearly three-quarters of the NASDAQ. Transformative technology drives not only economic growth, but also extreme market concentration.

In 1929, to reflect the new sector’s importance, Dow Jones launched the last of its three great stock averages: the electricity-heavy Dow Jones Utilities Average.

But then came the bust

The Dow Jones Utilities Average went as high as 144 in 1929. But by 1934, it had collapsed to just 17.

No single cause explains the New York Stock Exchange’s unprecedented “Great Crash”, which began on October 24 1929 and preceded the worldwide Great Depression.

That crash triggered a banking crisis, credit collapse, business failures, and a drastic fall in production. Unemployment soared from just 3% to 25% of US workers by 1933 and stayed in double figures until the US entered the second world war in 1941.

The ripple effects were global, with most countries seeing a rise in unemployment, especially in countries reliant on international trade, such as Chile, Australia and Canada, as well as Germany.

The promised age of shorter hours and electric leisure turned into soup kitchens and bread lines.

The collapse exposed fraud and excess. Electricity entrepreneur Samuel Insull, once Thomas Edison’s protégé and builder of Chicago’s Commonwealth Edison, was at one point worth US$150 million – an even more staggering amount at the time.

But after Insull’s empire went bankrupt in 1932, he was indicted for embezzlement and larceny. He fled overseas, was brought back, and eventually acquitted – but 600,000 shareholders and 500,000 bondholders lost everything.

However, to some Insull seemed less a criminal mastermind than a scapegoat for a system whose flaws ran far deeper.

Reforms unthinkable during the boom years followed.

The Public Utility Holding Company Act of 1935broke up the huge holding company structures and imposed regional separation. Once exciting electricity darlings became boring regulated infrastructure: a fact reflected in the humble “Electric Company” square on the original 1935 Monopoly board.

Lessons from the 1920s for today:

What are the lessons from 1920?

AI is rolling out faster than even those seeking to use it for business or government policy can sometimes manage properly.

Like electricity a century ago, a few interconnected firms are building today’s AI infrastructure.

And like a century ago, investors are piling in – though many don’t know the extent of their exposure through their superannuation funds or exchange traded funds (ETFs).

Just as in the late 1920s, today’s regulation of AI is still loose in many parts of the world – though the European Union is taking a tougher approach with its world-first AI law.

US President Donald Trump has taken the opposite approach, actively cutting “onerous regulation” of AI.

Some US states have responded by taking action themselves. The courts, when consulted, are hamstrung by laws and definitions written for a different era.

Can we transition to AI being invisible infrastructure like electricity without another bust, only then followed by reform?

If the parallels to the electrification boom remain unnoticed, the chances are slim.

Read: The future lies in our re-imagination

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The Bengal-born writer Nazarul Islam is a senior educationist based in USA. He writes for Sindh Courier and the newspapers of Bangladesh, India and America. He is author of a recently published book ‘Chasing Hope’ – a compilation of his articles.

The post The Story of Power and Progress first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

The Amplifying Nature of Success

Success is a seductive dream shared by many, yet few understand its deeper consequences. We often imagine that money, fame, or power will change our lives, but perhaps the more truthful insight is this: success doesn’t change you; it reveals you. It takes what’s already within you and puts it on the loudspeaker. If your core self is humble, kind, and generous, success will amplify that. If it is insecure, arrogant, or self-serving, that too will be multiplied. This idea, echoed by philosophers, psychologists, and spiritual leaders across centuries, invites us to consider an uncomfortable but essential truth: we should work more on who we are than what we want to achieve.

This article explores the idea that our “real self” is magnified by external success and dives into psychological studies, cultural perspectives, religious teachings, and real-life case studies to understand how and why this happens. Ultimately, it argues that the most important preparation for success is not technical skill or strategy, but inner character.

1. The Mirror Effect of Success: Revealing the Core

Imagine holding a mirror up to your soul. That is what success does. It doesn’t add new traits; it simply reveals what was dormant or hidden. This idea is not new. Greek philosophers warned about the intoxicating effects of power. Sufi saints urged inner purification before seeking worldly influence. Modern psychologists call it the “amplification effect.”

When people rise in wealth or fame, they are often freed from external constraints. They no longer need to please others to survive. The social masks fall. What is left is the raw self, now broadcast through the megaphone of success.

2. The Ethical Test of Wealth and Power

Wealth and power, far from being neutral tools, are ethical tests. Research by Paul Piff at the University of California, Berkeley, found that people with higher socio-economic status were more likely to lie in negotiations, break traffic laws, and behave less empathetically. The conclusion? Power may reduce empathy and increase self-focus, but only if those tendencies already existed.

This suggests that wealth doesn’t corrupt; it exposes and enables corruption. Likewise, generous people who gain wealth often become more philanthropic, not less. The difference lies in the pre-existing ethical structure.

3. Fame and the Fragility of Ego

Fame brings not only admiration but also scrutiny. It puts the self on stage, magnifying not just achievements but also flaws. Celebrities often face a collapse of identity when the public image overpowers the private reality.

Actors, athletes, and influencers have spoken about this dissonance. The late Robin Williams, despite global fame, battled inner sadness. On the other hand, figures like Malala Yousafzai or Abdul Sattar Edhi used fame to elevate causes beyond themselves. The difference? Their core selves were grounded in purpose before fame arrived.

4. Real-Life Case Studies: Amplification in Action

Positive Amplification:

• Abdul Sattar Edhi: Known as the richest poor man, his success only deepened his humility. When resources poured in, he expanded service, not luxury.
• Oprah Winfrey: Despite enormous wealth, she invests heavily in education, women’s empowerment, and mental health. Her success amplified a core rooted in empathy.
• J.K. Rowling: After becoming one of the richest authors in the world, she donated much of her wealth and used her platform for social justice.

Negative Amplification:

• Harvey Weinstein: Power revealed longstanding abuse patterns that had been hidden for decades.
• Elizabeth Holmes: Her ambition wasn’t inherently bad, but success magnified a willingness to deceive.
• Politicians who turned authoritarian: Many leaders began with populist promises but used success to centralize power, showing true authoritarian tendencies.

5. Cultural and Religious Perspectives

Islam

In Islam, wealth is a test (fitnah). The Quran warns against arrogance and reminds believers that rizq (provision) is from God. The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) remained humble despite growing influence. Sufis emphasize inner purification before seeking outer success.

Christianity

Biblical teachings often view wealth with caution: “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Success must be accompanied by humility and responsibility.

Buddhism

Detachment is central. Wealth and fame are seen as distractions from the path of enlightenment unless used wisely.

Stoicism

Stoics like Marcus Aurelius and Seneca saw success as external and indifferent. What mattered was virtue, not outcome. True power, they taught, lay in self-control.

6. When Success Magnifies Kindness, Humility, and Purpose

Some people grow kinder with success. Why? Because their core self was already rooted in compassion. With more resources and attention, they simply have more power to act on those values.

Example: After winning the Nobel Peace Prize, Malala didn’t retire into comfort. She built schools. She used the stage not for self-glorification, but for global advocacy.

Similarly, tech philanthropists like MacKenzie Scott have donated billions quietly. Their success became an enabler of large-scale good, not a monument to ego.

7. When Success Exposes Insecurity, Ego, and Greed

On the flip side, some people become less likable after success. Their speech becomes more condescending, and relationships more transactional. Often, this isn’t a change, but a revealing of long-hidden traits.

They were always self-centered, but poverty or obscurity forced them to conform. Once successful, they are free to act without a filter. The spotlight exposes the cracks.

We see this with social media influencers who begin promoting harmful or manipulative content once they amass followers. Or business tycoons who exploit systems and people once they gain enough leverage.

8. Can the ‘Real Self’ Be Changed Before It Is Amplified?

Yes. That is the most hopeful part of this conversation. If success multiplies the self, then it makes sense to focus on building a better self before chasing success.

This is where self-awareness, therapy, spiritual discipline, mentorship, and moral education play critical roles. Many leaders undergo transformation before their rise.

Example: Nelson Mandela spent decades in prison. That time refined his patience, empathy, and long-term thinking. When success arrived, he was ready.

9. Implications for Society: Who Do We Celebrate?

Our culture often celebrates outcomes, not character. We idolize billionaires without asking how they treat their staff. We celebrate influencers for their reach, not their ethics. If we shift our admiration to those whose inner selves match their outer success, we may inspire a more ethical next generation.

Schools, families, and media must play a role in reinforcing this value: Success should be a tool, not a trophy. What matters is not that you made it, but who you became while making it.

Becoming Someone Worth Multiplying

In the end, the question is not whether you will succeed, but what version of yourself will succeed. Because when success comes, it will multiply whatever is within. The real self, whether kind or cruel, humble or egotistical, generous or greedy, will be magnified.

That is both a warning and a call to hope. A warning because unchecked character flaws will grow louder with wealth and fame. A hope because integrity, humility, and compassion can also be multiplied to change the world.

So before we chase the spotlight, we must ask: Am I someone worth amplifying?

Because success doesn’t make us; it unmasks us.

Read: The Spectrum of Leadership

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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Fame, Wealth, Power: Mirrors of Truth first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• One thing is clear: a country that lets its corrupt flourish while its honest struggle, is one walking on the edge of its own collapse.

Nasir Aijaz

In the corridors of power, behind the polished speeches and well-rehearsed public appearances, lies a murky reality that most citizens of Pakistan know too well but feel helpless to challenge: corruption runs deep within the country’s political leadership. From the prime minister to provincial chief ministers, and from cabinet members to bureaucratic allies, a troubling pattern persists—those accused of corruption often not only evade justice but continue to rule, shape policy, and command influence as if the charges against them carry no weight.

For decades, Pakistan’s political landscape has been scarred by scandals—some publicized widely, others buried under the weight of time, influence, and fear. Cases surface regularly, revealing staggering misappropriation of funds, illegal land allotments, kickbacks from contracts, offshore accounts, and money laundering trails that stretch beyond national borders. Names change, parties shift alliances, but the script remains eerily familiar. Accused leaders denounce the allegations as politically motivated, their followers chant slogans of loyalty, and the legal machinery slows to a crawl. Months turn into years, hearings are postponed, and before long, the cases are forgotten—until the next scandal emerges.

There is something uniquely tragic about a nation whose people continue to suffer from inadequate healthcare, education, and inflation, while its ruling elite travels in convoys of luxury cars and resides in palatial homes guarded by state resources. The contrast is stark. It’s not merely about stolen money—it’s about stolen futures. Every rupee embezzled is a child out of school, a hospital without medicines, a road left broken, and a farmer driven to despair.

What makes the situation more alarming is not just the presence of corruption, but the normalization of it. Politicians facing serious charges often campaign for elections without shame, and win. Their corruption cases are openly discussed, yet nothing changes. Courts issue summons, and the same individuals return to power, protected by legal loopholes, political deals, or public indifference born out of hopelessness. The culture of impunity is so deeply entrenched that people no longer ask whether someone is corrupt—they ask how powerful he is.

Behind the scenes, institutions meant to uphold accountability are themselves tainted. The watchdogs, often toothless or politically compromised, become pawns in larger power games. Agencies like the National Accountability Bureau (NAB), the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA), and even segments of the judiciary are routinely accused of being either too weak or too selective—pursuing opposition leaders with vigor while ignoring the transgressions of those aligned with the ruling establishment. Accountability becomes less about justice and more about timing and allegiance.

What perhaps deepens the despair is that this cycle is no longer hidden. Citizens see it. They talk about it in tea stalls, on buses, in drawing rooms, and on social media. The knowledge is widespread, yet the impact is numbing. For many, voting is no longer about choosing the best candidate, but the lesser evil. People have adjusted to the idea that corruption is part of governance, not a deviation from it. That adjustment—quiet, resigned, and tragic—is perhaps the greatest cost of all.

Yet, history shows that no system, no matter how corrupt or protected, lasts forever. There are moments in the life of every nation when the people, long silenced, demand change—and that change, though delayed does come. Whether Pakistan will see such a moment soon remains uncertain. But one thing is clear: a country that lets its corrupt flourish while its honest struggle, is one walking on the edge of its own collapse.

Read: Elite Rewards, Commoners Bear the Cost

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The writer is a senior journalist based in Karachi. He can be accessed at nasir.akhund1954@gmail.com

Courtesy: The AsiaN, Seoul, South Korea (English and Korean) 

The post Shielded by Power: Impunity of Pakistan’s Elite first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• In a world overflowing with noise and excess, choosing less may be the most radical and rewarding decision one can make.

By Abdullah Usman Morai

In a world where “more” often equates to “better,” a quiet revolution is underway. Minimalism—once a fringe philosophy—is now a powerful movement reshaping the way people live, work, consume, and connect. Rooted in simplicity and intentionality, minimalism is not just about empty spaces or owning fewer things; it is a mindset that values clarity, purpose, and balance.

Historically, minimalism has evolved from artistic and cultural movements of the mid-20th century, particularly in design and architecture, where the mantra “less is more” became a guiding principle. Over time, it has transcended aesthetics and become a holistic way of living, with applications in lifestyle choices, work practices, financial habits, and even relationships.

Minimalism in Daily Life: A Lifestyle of Clarity

Adopting a minimalist lifestyle invites individuals to pare down their daily routines to what truly matters. It’s about letting go of the excess—be it possessions, commitments, or distractions—and making room for what brings real joy and value.

The benefits are profound. With fewer physical and mental distractions, people often find greater focus, less stress, and more peace. Minimalism encourages mindfulness—living in the moment rather than being consumed by past regrets or future anxieties. Daily decisions become easier when guided by purpose and clarity, allowing for a more intentional, fulfilling life.

Minimalism in Home and Space Design

Minimalist design emphasizes function, form, and serenity. A minimalist home typically features clean lines, neutral colors, open spaces, and only essential furnishings. The absence of clutter is not emptiness—it’s freedom. Such spaces are easier to maintain, more calming to inhabit, and often more energy-efficient.

The process of decluttering is not just physical—it’s emotional and psychological. By removing non-essential items, individuals often experience a sense of liberation and empowerment. Organization becomes natural, not forced, and every object serves a clear, meaningful purpose.

Minimalism and Consumerism: Redefining Value

At its core, minimalism challenges the relentless consumerism that dominates modern society. It asks a radical question: “Do I really need this?” By resisting the lure of impulse purchases and constant upgrades, minimalists are actively participating in a shift away from materialism.

This shift has environmental implications as well. Owning less often means consuming less, producing less waste, and reducing one’s carbon footprint. It promotes sustainability by encouraging quality over quantity and long-term utility over short-term trends.

Minimalism at Work: A New Approach to Productivity

Minimalism is also transforming how people approach work and productivity. In an age of information overload, minimalist practices—like simplifying schedules, reducing digital clutter, and focusing on key priorities—can lead to higher efficiency and less burnout.

Workspaces benefit from the same principles as minimalist homes: clarity, order, and intentionality. By reducing distractions and streamlining workflows, professionals can devote more energy to meaningful tasks, boosting both performance and satisfaction.

Minimalism and Finances: Spending with Purpose

Financial minimalism is about aligning spending with values. It encourages mindful budgeting, saving intentionally, and investing in experiences or items that truly enhance life. This approach often leads to reduced financial stress, increased savings, and even earlier financial independence.

Minimalists tend to resist trends of fast fashion, excessive gadgets, and luxury-for-status purchases. Instead, they find contentment in simplicity, which ultimately contributes to long-term financial stability.

Minimalism and Technology: Digital Clarity

Technology is a double-edged sword—essential yet overwhelming. Digital minimalism involves curating how we engage with devices, apps, and online platforms. It means reducing screen time, unsubscribing from unnecessary emails, and being selective about digital inputs.

By decluttering their digital lives, minimalists experience more focus, less anxiety, and improved digital well-being. It’s not about rejecting technology, but using it consciously to serve rather than distract.

Minimalism and Relationships: Deeper Connections

Minimalism doesn’t just affect possessions—it also transforms how people relate to others. By removing the noise of superficial interactions, it paves the way for deeper, more intentional relationships.

Spending quality time with loved ones, setting healthy boundaries, and prioritizing genuine connection over social expectations are all facets of relational minimalism. It encourages authenticity and mutual growth rather than performance or comparison.

Personal Transformation through Minimalism

The journey into minimalism often leads to profound personal change. People report feeling freer, more grounded, and more aligned with their true selves. It is not without challenges—breaking habits, confronting emotional attachments, and resisting societal pressures can be difficult.

However, for many, the result is a life of greater meaning and satisfaction. Minimalism is a tool for self-discovery, helping individuals uncover what really matters and let go of what doesn’t.

Criticisms and Misconceptions of Minimalism

Despite its benefits, minimalism is not without its critics. Some argue it can be elitist—only accessible to those who can afford to “live with less” because they already have enough. Others point out that in some cultures or economic situations, minimalism is not a choice but a necessity.

To be truly inclusive, minimalism must be adaptable. It should not be about aesthetic perfection or deprivation, but about intentional living within one’s means and context. It must be approached with empathy, understanding that simplicity looks different for everyone.

The First Steps toward a Simpler Life

Embracing minimalism doesn’t require drastic change. It begins with awareness—asking what truly adds value to life and gradually letting go of the rest. Start by decluttering a drawer, turning off notifications, or reevaluating spending habits.

Minimalism is not an end but a means—a path to greater freedom, peace, and purpose. In a world overflowing with noise and excess, choosing less may be the most radical and rewarding decision one can make.

As more people adopt this philosophy, we move toward a future that is not only more sustainable, but also more human—rooted in what truly matters.

Read: In Search of the Ideal Leader

__________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post The Power and Purpose of Minimalism first appeared on Sindh Courier.