Behind the Curtain of Righteousness

“Maulana Hidayatur Rehman, answer us!”

This is no ordinary call—it is a cry from the very soul of a people who have waited too long in silence. The people of Gwadar, who once dreamed of a future shaped by progress and prosperity, now find themselves still struggling for clean water, access to education, and basic healthcare. Their hopes have withered in the scorching sun, and their patience has run thin. When you rose as a voice for the oppressed, they believed you. But now, they are the ones asking: Maulana, what exactly have you done for us?

Empty speeches are no substitute for action. Promises made in passion must be fulfilled with integrity. But it seems, where there was once an opportunity to serve, personal gain took precedence. And now, the questions are not whispers in corners—they are loud, persistent, and everywhere. When rumors turned into reports, and reports turned into patterns, it became clear: your own brothers are involved in illegal trawling and smuggling. Is this not a betrayal of the very people who trusted you to fight for their rights? When the fishermen, whose livelihoods you claimed to defend, suffer while those close to your profit, where does justice go?

Leadership is built on trust. And trust, once broken, is not easily repaired. The people are asking: while their children went without schools and their families without doctors, how did your personal wealth increase? How did your influence grow while theirs diminished? Is this the return on their loyalty? Is this the fruit of their faith in your words?

And then there’s CPEC—a project of national significance, a potential game-changer for the region. While others sought to build and connect, you chose resistance. But the people deserve to know: why? Under whose guidance did you oppose such a project? When your words begin to echo the rhetoric of those who do not wish Pakistan well, the nation must ask: whose narrative are you promoting?