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Families of Baloch Activists Relive a Nightmare

Mahrang Baloch, 32, a rights campaigner speaking up against forced disappearances in Balochistan, was arrested on March 22.


Dr Mahrang Baloch. Photo: Veengas
Dr Mahrang Baloch. Photo: Veengas

Karachi: Nadia Baloch was a child when her father, Abdul Ghaffar Langove, was abducted and imprisoned and, later, his bullet-riddled body was found. Now she finds herself waiting outside the same Quetta jail where he was once held, pleading with the police for permission to meet her elder sister Mahrang.


Mahrang Baloch, 32, a rights campaigner speaking up against forced disappearances in Balochistan, was arrested on March 22 during a peaceful protest against the killing of civilians and a crackdown on the Baloch Yakjehti Committee (BYC).


“My mother said in a heavy voice, ‘First, they imprisoned your father, and I stood here with all of you when you were just children. Now years have passed, but the injustice remains the same. We are once again standing outside the jail, for eight hours, asking to meet your sister, my daughter, Mahrang,’” Nadia recounted.


‘Mahrang was manhandled by the police during her arrest’


In 2009, Mahleb Deen Baloch had stood with her elder sister Sammi Deen Baloch, holding up their father’s photograph, demanding to know his whereabouts after he was abducted. Dr Deen Mohammad Baloch remains untraced. This past week, accompanied by their adopted four-year-old sister Mahtab, Mahleb was protesting Sammi’s arrest.


Sammi Deen Baloch is a powerful voice against enforced disappearances. Like Mahrang, she had begun speaking out as a teenager to fight for the release of her father.


On March 24, the Karachi chapter of the BYC and civil society members had organised a peaceful demonstration against the arrest of Mahrang and other activists. The police responded with force. Among those arrested was Sammi, who had neither given a speech nor chanted any slogans. She had simply stood silently, holding a picture of Mahrang.


“When Sammi was being taken to jail, I told myself, maybe she will meet Baba there – even though I knew it was impossible,” said Mahleb. “Still, I kept repeating it to console myself.”


Sammi’s mother, Bibi Nazkhatoon, who has spent a decade and a half seeking her husband’s return, stood at the gate of Karachi Central Jail waiting to see her.


“If other mothers’ children are behind bars for asking for justice, and now my daughter is too, it makes no difference,” she said, trying to appear strong. Yet her trembling voice and tear-filled eyes gave away a mother’s pain.


Sammi, who received the Front Line Defenders Award in 2024, is her family’s pillar. Since her arrest, Mahleb has had to shoulder the entire burden – managing the household and fighting the case for her sister’s release.


On the evening of April 1, Sammi’s name was dropped from the case and orders issued for her release.



Nadia is braced for a tough battle. She trained as a lawyer in the hope of securing justice for her Baloch people, and her first case is for Mahrang’s release.


“It is my first case – and the first case is of my own sister. But I feel shattered knowing I cannot do anything for her,” she says.


Mahrang was manhandled by the police during her arrest, Nadia says. Her chaddar was forcefully removed.


In prison, she has been vomiting repeatedly and Nadia is afraid her food might have been contaminated.


When she asked why Mahrang had not received medical care, she says, the police officer casually replied that the doctor had gone to offer Friday prayers.


Featured by Time magazine in its list of 100 emerging leaders in 2024, Mahrang is among the those nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize 2025.


Nadia says that every time she tries to meet her sister, the police make her wait more than five hours –even when she has court permission.


“Everything inside the jail is controlled by security agencies – not just the prison system, but the so-called democratic government and judiciary too,” she said.


As a lawyer, Nadia had hoped for a prompt hearing but she was bitterly disappointed. “Even the judiciary seems to be under control,” she said.


After studying law for five years, Nadia says her faith in justice – Insaaf – is shaken as she finds herself powerless in the face of her sister’s ordeal. Struggling to find the right words, her voice faltering, she says quietly, “It makes me devastated.”


Nadia and her siblings had initially withheld the news of Mahrang’s arrest from their mother, hoping she would be released before Eid. But when the hearing date was postponed till after Eid, they were forced to tell her.


She heard in silence. When she finally met Mahrang, the visit was heartbreaking. The jail authorities refused a private meeting, allowing only a conversation over the intercom. Nadia said even the washroom area was under surveillance, leaving no sense of privacy.


“My sister is being treated like a most-wanted criminal. But she is a political prisoner,” says Nadia, adding that sources told her police officers had been pressured not to cooperate with her, and those who did were transferred. “Twenty days before Mahrang’s arrest, a jail cell was cleaned. Now she is being held in that same room,” Nadia says, suggesting the arrest was premeditated.


Brutal crackdown


At the Karachi protest on March 24, police claimed that prohibitory orders under Section 144 had been imposed, and all roads leading to the Karachi Press Club were blocked. The BYC activists and civil society members had gathered peacefully, but the police used violence to disperse them even after Sammi Deen Baloch and other activists repeatedly told them the protest had already ended. The police, it appeared, were intent on arresting Sammi.


Just a few steps away from the BYC gathering, a counter-protest was being held. This group openly chanted anti-Baloch slogans, accusing them of being “Indian agents.” No action was taken against them.


When this journalist asked police officers whether Section 144 applied only to the Baloch protest and not the counter-protest, one officer remained silent while another smirked.


Men in civilian clothes were seen openly carrying guns. Mahleb observed this and alerted the human rights activists, warning that security agencies might attempt to harm the protesters.


“When I saw men in civilian clothes with guns, I feared for Sammi’s safety,” Mahleb said. “During a previous protest at Hub Chowki, a man was caught with instructions to target Sammi. I was terrified the same might happen again.”


Standing firm


The state’s crackdown on the BYC and its members has gone on for a long time. After the Jaffar Express train hijack, Dr Sabiha Baloch, an organising member of the BYC, spoke to The Wire, calling out the military for targeting BYC activists in an attempt to mask its failures in Balochistan. “The state,” she said bluntly, “means the military.”


Sabiha remains a target of the crackdown. She explained that she had covered her face with a veil, which helped her evade the police. “The police tried to arrest a veiled girl, thinking she was me. Once they realised it wasn’t me, they let her go,” Sabiha said.


Despite the wave of arrests, Sabiha insists the crackdown will not weaken the movement. “The state cannot defeat BYC,” she said. “We are a peaceful movement, deeply rooted in our people.”


When asked why the state is intensifying its crackdown, Sabiha pointed to BYC’s growing influence. “We’ve brought Balochistan’s issues to the international stage. The state doesn’t want our message to reach the world,” she said.


Her voice rising with anger, she added, “The state’s lies won’t shield it forever. They abduct, kill, and dump our people, and then expect us to stay silent. That will never happen. Every generation of Baloch will continue to speak out against this brutal violence.”


A suicide bomber’s attempt to target BNP leader


Akhtar Mengal, leader of the Balochistan National Party (BNP) and former Chief Minister of Balochistan, led a long march towards Quetta, demanding the immediate release of. Mahrang Baloch, Sammi Deen Baloch, Beberg Baloch, Beebow Baloch, Sibghtullah Shah, and other detained activists.


During the march on March 29, a suicide bomber attempted to target Akhtar Mengal. Party workers spotted the attacker, who fled and ultimately detonated the explosive device, killing himself. Akhtar was unharmed.

Responding to the attack, Sabiha said, “This reveals the intent of the state – it wants Balochistan and its natural resources, but not the Baloch people.”


Despite the threat, Akhtar Mengal remained defiant. He said such attacks would not deter their movement and vowed to continue the march until the detained Baloch women are released.


‘A zaalim state’


Imran Baloch, an advocate and lead lawyer in Mahrang Baloch’s case, explained that the Maintenance of Public Order (MPO) law, specifically Section 3, is a draconian law with colonial roots. First introduced by the British in 1924 to suppress political dissent, it was amended in 1940 and formally adopted in Pakistan in 1960. The law was last amended in 2011.


“Originally, this law was meant for drug traffickers, warlords, and land grabbers – not political activists,” Imran said. “But in Pakistan, it has long been misused to silence dissenting voices.”


According to Imran, the arrest of Mahrang Baloch and other members of the Baloch Yakjehti Committee (BYC) did not follow due legal process. “Their arrests are illegal and unconstitutional,” he stated, adding that he fears the state might now file additional fabricated charges against them to prolong their detention.



He also raised serious concerns about Mahrang’s treatment in custody. “She is being harassed, subjected to psychological torture, and her privacy has been violated – surveillance cameras have even been installed in areas that should be private,” he said.


Mahleb echoed those concerns. “If we ask for basic human rights, we are charged under the MPO,” she said, speaking before Sammi was released. She shared how devastated she felt when Sammi was arrested.


“Everyone knows she broke no law. When I saw the police take Sammi from the courtroom, it felt as if something had fallen from my hands – and I couldn’t pick it up again.”


At a protest in Karachi, an elderly Baloch woman summed up the sentiment on the ground. “This state is not Pak – not holy,” she said. “It is Zaalim – a cruel state.”



©2023 All rights reserved. Foundation for Independent Journalism (FIJ)

 
 

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