Quetta, Nov 4 (NationPress) The struggle of Balochistan is far from a peripheral conflict; it represents a human rights crisis that urgently requires global awareness. The issues of forced labour, disappearances, and land confiscations are serious violations against individuals who seek only to govern their own lives and resources. Numerous analysts assert that the Pakistani military and government must be held accountable for their actions in Balochistan.

For many years, the Baloch people have been told to exhibit patience, to wait for development, and to place their trust in the State. However, patience cannot thrive in a soil of injustice. In 2025, Balochistan stands as a stark indication of how unchecked power can transform into predation. The global community must choose to listen — not to the generals and politicians who preach unity, but to the mothers, workers, and students who demand freedom. The voices from Balochistan are not asking for privilege; they are demanding humanity, as experts emphasize.

The region where mountains embrace the sea deserves far more than military displays and empty promises. It deserves justice. It needs liberation from forced labour, land theft, and the iron grip of an army that claims to protect yet only oppresses. The narrative of Balochistan in 2025 illustrates a tale of resilience against tyranny — a population standing firm even as the State seeks to break their spirit. One day, it is hoped, Balochistan will transform into a land where “anything is possible” not for oppressors, but for its own people, where freedom, dignity, and justice can finally thrive.

The oppressive practices by Pakistan in Balochistan have been extensive. The seizure of land and the imposition of forced labour have escalated since the start of this crisis. What originated decades ago as marginalization has evolved into a full-scale assault on the dignity and autonomy of an entire population. As of 2025, the wounds of Balochistan’s exploitation are deeper than ever. Hidden behind the facade of national security and development, the Pakistani military has solidified its power through intimidation, coercion, and the systematic dismantling of Baloch society.

Throughout the rugged terrains of Balochistan, the narrative is hauntingly familiar. Villages have been vacated overnight under the cover of military operations, families forced to abandon their ancestral lands that have been nurtured for generations. Men are rounded up and compelled to labor without pay on military infrastructure projects, roads, and bases. Women are left behind, witnessing their homes transform into military outposts and checkpoints. This situation is not merely a militaristic occupation; it is an occupation of life itself. The inhabitants of Balochistan have endured decades of what can only be characterized as a slow, relentless war against their existence.

The Pakistan military, under the guise of counter-insurgency and “maintaining order,” has fostered an atmosphere where dissent is quashed, where journalists vanish, and where the tranquil silence of the mountains is disrupted solely by helicopters and gunfire. In 2025, reports indicate that entire communities in regions like Kech, Panjgur, and Khuzdar have been subjected to forced relocations. Agricultural lands are fenced off, seized under the pretense of security zones, and then repurposed for military or governmental use. The lands that once nourished generations are now inaccessible to those who cultivated them.

The system of forced labour implemented by the Pakistani military across various areas in Balochistan resembles modern slavery cloaked in nationalistic rhetoric. Local men are coerced into building roads, transporting supplies, and digging trenches for military bases. They are often not compensated fairly — or at all — and refusal leads to punishment. For instance, in the vicinity of Gwadar, fishermen have been forced into menial jobs for military and Chinese-backed projects after being barred from their fishing zones. Their boats are commandeered, their movements restricted, and their livelihoods are devastated. The military labels it “development”; the Baloch refer to it as survival under oppression.

The year 2025 has witnessed an intensification of such practices, partly fueled by the military’s expanding economic dominance in the region. Balochistan is abundant in resources — natural gas, coal, copper, gold, and deep-sea ports — yet it remains the most impoverished territory in Pakistan. The military’s corporate arms and affiliated companies have monopolized concessions over mines, lands, and infrastructure initiatives, while the indigenous populace reaps none of the rewards. Billions flow through Balochistan, yet hardly a fraction reaches its people.

The irony is painfully evident: a province that fuels Pakistan’s industries is left in darkness, with children trudging miles for water and schools lacking roofs. The Pakistani government, complicit and mute, contributes to the oppression by disguising exploitation as progress. Each promise of “integration” and “development” morphs into yet another tool of control. Laws designed to regulate the province are weaponized to confiscate land. Anti-terror laws are utilized not to combat extremism but to silence activists, students, and intellectuals who dare to advocate for freedom.

The state media portrays them as traitors, the military brands them as insurgents, and their voices disappear into the abyss of enforced disappearance. Forced disappearances remain the most chilling hallmark of Pakistan’s governance over Balochistan. Thousands of Baloch men and boys have mysteriously vanished over the years — abducted from their homes, workplaces, or checkpoints. Their families search relentlessly, holding up their portraits at protests that the state deems “unpatriotic.” As of 2025, the number of missing individuals continues to climb despite repeated calls for justice. Mothers march under the searing sun, clutching pictures of their sons who may never return.

This culture of disappearance has evolved into an instrument of terror — one that guarantees silence, compliance, and despair. The pattern is evident. The Pakistan military does not merely dominate Balochistan; it extracts resources from it. Every mine, every port, every so-called “development” zone is established through coercion and sustained through intimidation. People are compelled to labor for the very institutions that occupy their lands. The military’s initiatives in Gwadar, Lasbela, and Turbat heavily depend on local labor — a labor that is neither voluntary nor justly compensated.

In numerous cases, families report being threatened with detention or the loss of their homes if they refuse to work. This is forced labour institutionalized under the guise of nationalism. In rural regions, especially near Khuzdar and Awaran, soldiers have been accused of coercing locals to aid in constructing camps and logistics during operations. Villages are isolated, communication channels jammed, and movement restricted. People exist under constant surveillance and fear. This type of oppression gradually erodes the human spirit — it is slow, systematic, and devastating.

The tragedy of Balochistan is further complicated by the intentional obliteration of its culture and identity. The Pakistani state has systematically attempted to erase the Baloch language and heritage from education and governance. Local educators who insist on teaching Balochi or Brahui face harassment or dismissal. Textbooks depict Baloch resistance as rebellion, never as a quest for justice. Universities are monitored; student leaders are surveilled, some abducted, and some found lifeless in secluded valleys.

In 2025, student movements in Quetta and Turbat have been met with raids, arrests, and curfews. The youth demanding books instead of bullets are considered enemies of the state. Yet, despite this suffocating suppression, the Baloch spirit perseveres. Across the province, individuals continue to resist — through protests, art, or simply by refusing to remain silent. Women have become the conscience of this movement. Mothers of the disappeared march from Quetta to Karachi, bearing pictures of their sons and calling for justice.

The Pakistani government and military portray Balochistan as an ungrateful territory — one that must be pacified and subdued. But it is not ingratitude; it is the outcry of a populace that refuses to be stripped of their dignity. The Baloch do not reject progress; they reject progress built upon their suffering. They do not turn away from Pakistan out of hatred; they oppose oppression out of love for their homeland.

What the Pakistani State fails to comprehend is that peace cannot be enforced through violence, and loyalty cannot be extracted through forced labor and disappearances. The forced labour and land confiscations of 2025 are not isolated occurrences. They belong to a long continuum of state policy — one that began with the annexation of Balochistan in 1948 and has evolved into a military-driven colonial agenda. The faces may change, the slogans may evolve, but the machinery of control remains constant. Every new government promises reform; every general promises peace. Yet the military presence persists, the land remains occupied, and the people remain shackled. It is time for the world to look beyond Islamabad’s rhetoric.