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Balochistan the poorest province of Pakistan
By Humera Karim
Originally published March 24, 2014
Exclusive Article
This is a memorial republication of an article written by my dear friend Humera Karim of Quetta, whom I affectionately called my princess.
Humera wrote about Balochistan with the familiarity of someone who belonged to it, understood its contradictions and cared deeply about its people. I want to preserve this article not only because of what it says about Balochistan in 2014, but because it preserves a piece of her voice.
I have lightly edited the English for grammar, punctuation, paragraph structure and clarity. I will not rewrite her argument, soften her criticism or replace her expressions with my own. Where Humera’s wording carries irony, frustration, affection or political judgment, I have tried to leave that spirit intact.
Editor’s Note
This article was originally written by the late Humera Karim of Quetta, Balochistan, and published by PK Articles Hub on March 24, 2014. The original website is no longer online, but the article survives through the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine.
It is republished by Akashma News with the permission of Humera Karim’s husband, Hashim Ali, as a tribute to her journalism and her commitment to the people of Balochistan.
Humera’s native language was Urdu. This republication has received only light editorial treatment for English grammar, punctuation, paragraph structure and clarity. Her argument, political commentary, irony, statistics as originally reported, and overall voice have been preserved as closely as possible.
It is republished by Akashma News with the permission of Humera Karim’s husband, Hashim Ali, as a tribute to her journalism and her commitment to the people of Balochistan.
The Provincial Assembly of Balochistan unanimously passed bills increasing the salaries and allowances of the chief minister, speaker, deputy speaker and members of the Provincial Assembly.
Balochistan is the poorest province of Pakistan.
According to a May 2013 report by the Social Policy and Development Centre (SPDC), the percentage of Pakistan’s population living below the poverty line had increased to 36.79 percent in 2013, compared with 29.76 percent in 2004–05. Balochistan remained at the top of the poverty list, with 45.68 percent of its population living below the poverty line.
In such circumstances, passing this bill should perhaps be highly appreciated because, in the poorest province, apparently the poorest of the poor are sitting in the Assembly.
In such circumstances, passing this bill should perhaps be highly appreciated because, in the poorest province, apparently the poorest of the poor are sitting in the Assembly.
Balochistan is a tribal society. Baloch areas, in particular, remain strongly influenced by Nawabs and Sardars compared with Pashtun areas. Baloch areas have also faced insurgency and have witnessed little development or infrastructure. In many places, infrastructure is difficult to find at all.
Baloch tribesmen are poor, but apparently the heads of the tribes—the Nawabs and Sardars—are the poorest of the poor.
Although the provincial government is led by the National Party under Dr. Abdul Malik, a non-Sardar and educated political leader, with Mir Hasil Bizenjo, known as a liberal and learned man, it remains a coalition government that includes Nawabs and Sardars.
Although the provincial government is led by the National Party under Dr. Abdul Malik, a non-Sardar and educated political leader, with Mir Hasil Bizenjo, known as a liberal and learned man, it remains a coalition government that includes Nawabs and Sardars.
During the previous five years of the Raisani government in Balochistan, we witnessed enormous development—but unfortunately, much of it seemed to occur in the corruption sector.
Every MPA received millions for development, and many certainly succeeded in developing themselves.
Meanwhile, Balochistan was increasingly transformed into a volcano. Law and order deteriorated while political leaders appeared preoccupied with their own development.
Meanwhile, Balochistan was increasingly transformed into a volcano. Law and order deteriorated while political leaders appeared preoccupied with their own development.
Balochistan became almost a mission impossible for the government that followed. The Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz took what appeared to be a wise step by allowing the National Party to lead the provincial government.
The National Party was expected to introduce positive reforms. Inevitably, this also generated opposition from within the governing structure itself. Nawabs and Sardars were not accustomed to seeing a non-Sardar serving as chief minister, and accepting such a change was not easy.
As expected, Dr. Malik chose what appeared to be the wisest available path: maintaining a balance rather than entering into direct confrontation with these long-established centers of power.
For generations, Nawabs and Sardars have exercised tremendous authority over the fate of their tribesmen.
Since Balochistan was granted the status of a separate province, its Assembly has repeatedly included powerful tribal figures. When outside government, many speak loudly about Baloch rights. Once in power, however, their commitment to those same rights can become considerably less visible.
The salary bill is only a small example.
The common citizen cannot ordinarily afford to contest an election. In practice, only particular segments of society possess the financial and political resources necessary to reach the Assembly.
The justification offered for increasing salaries and allowances referred to the rising cost of living, daily expenses, residential accommodation and transportation.
Apparently, then, it had become imperative to increase the salaries and privileges—not of the ordinary people struggling with those same costs, but of their already privileged representatives.
Balochistan is a geographically vast province with a scattered population. The absence of roads leaves many communities poorly connected with one another.
Many things considered basic human necessities remain unavailable to substantial numbers of people, including health care, education and clean drinking water.
The education system faces a severe shortage of secondary-school teachers and science lecturers. Many schools and colleges lack libraries, laboratory equipment and other educational facilities.
Some institutions even lack basic amenities such as safe drinking water and toilets.
At the time, Balochistan’s literacy rate stood at approximately 34 percent—an extremely low figure.
Security threats had also forced some Baloch teachers to migrate to other provinces, further weakening an already fragile educational system.
Health care presents another serious challenge.
The available medical facilities across the province were insufficient to serve a widely dispersed population of approximately eight million people at the time.
This produced a painful reality: hospitals throughout Balochistan often lacked even the basic resources necessary to treat people who could not afford private medical care.
Inadequate health and welfare services also placed children at particular risk. Insufficient medical care affected communities across the province, while health services available to poor Baloch families in both urban and rural areas remained inadequate.
The quality of care was further limited by shortages of technology, medicine and trained personnel.
It is unfortunate to report that hospitals across the province—including those in the provincial capital—faced severe shortages of beds, doctors, ambulances, professional staff, nursing services, free clinics and medicines.
People living near provincial borders sometimes traveled to other provinces simply to obtain basic medical treatment.
Districts including Bolan, Kech, Ziarat, Jhal Magsi, Musakhel and Panjgur had among the weakest government facilities for providing clean drinking water.
Electricity presented another challenge.
Load shedding in Balochistan could not simply be solved by increasing Pakistan’s overall electricity supply because the province also suffered from a weak transmission network.
A large proportion of Balochistan’s population was therefore deprived of services considered basic elsewhere.
Economic deprivation also contributed to political anger and unrest. When people have few opportunities to earn a livelihood, frustration inevitably grows.
As we know, the ordinary citizen rarely reaches the assemblies of our country. Sometimes it appears that the ordinary citizen cannot even reach the gate.
But let us remain specific to dear Balochistan.
If we examine the list of MPAs, most come from influential political or tribal backgrounds. Some may not formally be Nawabs or Sardars, but few could reasonably be described as so poor that they required increases not only in salaries but also in allowances and privileges.
We now wait to see what these elected representatives of the poorest of the poor will deliver after receiving their salary increases.
Perhaps these additional privileges will finally enable them to think about improving the lives of the people they represent.
Perhaps a miracle will occur, and they will remember Baloch rights while they are actually in power.
Having personally experienced the difficulty of meeting their own expenses during a period of rising prices, perhaps they will now consider those who live below the poverty line.
And perhaps that realization will motivate them to take meaningful action.
After all, these increases in salaries and privileges are made possible through the hard work of taxpayers.
And the taxpayer, once again, is the ordinary person.
Original publication;
Karim, H. (2014, March 24). Balochistan the poorest province of Pakistan. PK Articles Hub. Internet Archive Wayback Machine.
The Strategic Nexus of the New Silk Road
By Marivel Guzman | Akashma News
Geopolitics, Logistics Capacity, and Debt Sustainability in the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor
Source: Wikimedia Commons — by J. Patrick Fischer
Gwadar Port handled more shipping containers in April alone than it did in all of 2025. Chinese frigates ran joint drills with the Pakistan Navy off Karachi this spring. Islamabad and Beijing describe a corridor bound for $100 billion in investment by 2030. On paper, the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor looks like it’s accelerating.
Look closer at the road and the ledger, and a different picture emerges — one where the physical infrastructure is still half-built, the most-cited bottleneck isn’t actually the binding one, a parallel rail line exists mostly as a memorandum of understanding, and Beijing’s patience with Pakistan’s debts is visibly running thin.
A Highway Still Being Rebuilt
The entire strategic case for CPEC rests on the Karakoram Highway, the 1,300-kilometer road linking Kashgar in western China to Pakistan’s Arabian Sea coast. It’s a remarkable piece of engineering, but it is not a finished one.
The one section that’s genuinely done — 335 kilometers between Raikot and Khunjerab — was widened from 10 meters to 30 under a $327 million Chinese loan completed back in 2013. That upgrade made the route passable to heavy freight trucks year-round. But the sections north and south of it are a patchwork: the Thakot–Raikot stretch has been stuck at memorandum-of-understanding stage since 2023, and a planned dualization further south, between Hasan Abdal and Mansehra, is still sitting in feasibility review.
That gap matters more than it might sound. A 2025 engineering study modeling freight capacity along this corridor out to 2035 found that the highway’s real chokepoint isn’t the famous, high-altitude Khunjerab Pass — it’s the unfinished Thakot–Raikot section in the middle. The same study estimated that stretch could absorb roughly 9,500 additional trucks a day before hitting saturation, and projected the corridor eventually carrying close to 8 percent of China’s total trade value if the remaining upgrades actually get built on schedule.
Khunjerab’s Bottleneck Changed Shape
Khunjerab Pass, at nearly 5,000 meters, is the highest paved border crossing on Earth, and for decades it was closed every winter — snow and thin air made it impassable from December to March. In late 2023, Beijing and Islamabad agreed to keep it open year-round, and that took effect in December 2024.
It hasn’t gone entirely smoothly. The pass has also been shut down for reasons that have nothing to do with weather — a months-long standoff in 2025 over new customs fees at Sost Dry Port froze cross-border trade until traders and officials worked it out that October. The takeaway: Khunjerab’s bottleneck used to be purely physical. Now it’s just as often bureaucratic.
The Rail Line That Exists Mostly on Paper
For years, CPEC planning documents have floated a rail line running roughly 1,000 kilometers from Havelian, in northern Pakistan, to Kashgar — with Havelian itself becoming a truck-to-train transfer hub. It would be transformative if built. It is nowhere close to being built.
The one rail project that actually has money behind it, the Karachi–Peshawar Main Line-1 upgrade, tells its own story about how CPEC financing has changed. Beijing originally pledged to fund the whole thing — $6.67 billion — back in 2016. Nearly a decade later, that money still hadn’t materialized, and by mid-2026 the project had reportedly been pulled out of the CPEC framework altogether and handed to a multilateral group led by the Asian Development Bank.
No government agency has published a real cargo-volume target for the Kashgar–Havelian rail link. That’s not an oversight — it’s a sign the project hasn’t reached the stage where those numbers would even exist yet.
Gwadar’s Moment, Courtesy of the Strait of Hormuz
None of this infrastructure strain has stopped Gwadar from having a genuinely good year. Instability around the Strait of Hormuz pushed global shippers to look for alternatives, and Gwadar — sitting just 400 kilometers from the strait, with a deep-water harbor most regional ports can’t match — was one of the few places positioned to catch the overflow. The port processed around 11,000 containers in April, more than its entire 2025 total.
The port’s appeal isn’t just commercial. Routing Middle Eastern crude through Gwadar and overland to Kashgar cuts a 12,000-kilometer sea voyage through the tightly patrolled Malacca Strait down to roughly 3,000 kilometers — a serious hedge for Beijing against any future blockade. And the corridor is explicitly dual-use: the Pakistan Navy and China’s PLA Navy ran their fourth joint “Sea Guardians” exercise this spring, with a Chinese guided-missile frigate joining Pakistani Tughril-class ships for anti-submarine and air-defense drills in the Arabian Sea.
Underpinning all of it is a fact rarely stated so plainly: both countries are nuclear powers, and that shared deterrent effectively folds any attack on CPEC infrastructure into each nation’s broader security calculus.
The Debt Problem Beijing Can No Longer Ignore
Here’s where the corridor’s momentum runs into a wall. Chinese power companies operating under CPEC were owed roughly 423 billion Pakistani rupees — about $1.5 billion — in unpaid dues as of the end of the last fiscal year, against a total power-sector debt load of 1.675 trillion rupees. China has refused to waive the associated late fees.
That’s separate from Pakistan’s regular sovereign debt payments to China — in July alone, the State Bank of Pakistan repaid $1.4 billion on a Chinese commercial loan, a different obligation entirely, expected to be refinanced by Chinese banks shortly after. The two debts get conflated a lot in commentary; they shouldn’t be, but both point in the same direction: Pakistan’s fiscal relationship with Beijing is under real strain.
The clearest evidence of how much that strain has changed Chinese behavior is the ML-1 railway’s financing shift, described above. A project China once insisted on funding alone has now been pushed onto multilateral lenders. That’s not how a confident creditor behaves.
Some critics call this “debt-trap diplomacy,” pointing to Sri Lanka’s Hambantota Port as the cautionary tale. Others push back, noting that a large share of CPEC’s projects are structured as equity investment rather than sovereign debt, and argue Pakistan’s deeper problem is years of fiscal mismanagement and weak exports that predate CPEC entirely. Both arguments have real evidence behind them — this is a genuine dispute, not a settled question.
Pakistan’s Other Balancing Act
None of this happens in a vacuum separate from Pakistan’s relationship with the West. For decades, Pakistani territory has served as the transit route for NATO supply lines into landlocked Central Asia, moving through the Torkham crossing near the Khyber Pass and the Chaman crossing in Balochistan. That role gives Islamabad leverage it hasn’t given up: it can deepen its partnership with Beijing while still positioning itself as indispensable to Western military logistics.
The Bottom Line
CPEC’s boosters and its critics are, in a sense, both right. The strategic architecture is real — the nuclear backstop, the naval cooperation, the genuine hedge against a Malacca Strait chokepoint. But so is the gap between that ambition and what’s actually built: an unfinished highway whose real weak point isn’t the one everyone talks about, a rail corridor that’s still just a plan, and a debt load that’s making Beijing noticeably more cautious about writing the next check. Whether the corridor delivers on its 2030 targets will depend less on geopolitics than on whether Pakistan and China can close that gap — and right now, the ledger is closing faster than the road.
—
Under Siege: The Security Crisis Threatening CPEC and Gwadar Port
This research-base-report follows The Strategic Nexus of the New Silk Road, which examined CPEC and Gwadar as critical links in China’s broader Belt and Road strategy. The present article turns to the growing security crisis in Balochistan and asks whether insurgent attacks, infrastructure sabotage and mounting security costs could undermine the very corridor designed to connect western China with the Arabian Sea.
A Supplementary Technical Analysis to “The Strategic Nexus of the New Silk Road
Related logistics report: CPEC Logistics Capacity: Karakoram Highway vs. the Proposed Trans-Karakoram Rail Link examines the physical infrastructure behind the corridor—highway widening, freight capacity, the Khunjerab Pass, the Thakot–Raikot bottleneck and the proposed rail connection between Pakistan and China. It complements this geopolitical analysis by asking a practical question: how much trade can CPEC actually move, and where are its most important logistical constraints?
Sources: Pakistan National Highway Authority project records; Adeel et al., “Multi-Dimensional Freight and Trade Capacity Analysis,” Scientific Journal of Silesian University of Technology (2025); The Diplomat; ProPakistani; Asia Times; The Express Tribune; The News (Pakistan); Asian Lite International; Journal of Contemporary Asia.*
