When Peace Becomes a Luxury: The Unspoken Pain of the Pakhtuns

How strange is this world — where some people live their lives peacefully, surrounded by comfort, while others are forced to beg for the most basic human right: peace.

Among those struggling for this right are the Pakhtuns. A proud people with centuries of rich history, honor, and culture. And yet, for simply being who they are, they are often treated like strangers in their own land.

While many live in cities without fear, go to school without bombs, walk outside without checking over their shoulders — the Pakhtun people continue to bury their young, mourn their elders, and fight for survival. All they want is to live with dignity. But in return, they are labeled, profiled, and often silenced.

This is not just sad — this is injustice.

Why are they oppressed? Why are they tortured, ignored, and silenced? Just because they are different? Different in language? In culture? In pride?

The answer lies in how the world treats difference — not with curiosity, but with fear. Not with compassion, but with control. The Pakhtuns, for decades, have stood tall against violence, extremism, and even state negligence. But instead of being celebrated for their resilience, they are punished for their strength.

Their homes have been battlegrounds. Their lands used for wars they never started. And yet, they are expected to stay silent, to prove their loyalty over and over again.

But their pain is not invisible.

Their silence is not weakness.

Their tears are not signs of surrender.

Behind every Pakhtun child who grows up in fear, there is a dream crushed before it begins. Behind every mother’s eyes is a story of a son lost too early. Behind every grave lies the proof of a people who have paid too high a price for wanting peace.

We must ask ourselves: What kind of justice allows one group to sleep safely while another bleeds for simply existing?

To be born Pakhtun should not be a crime.

To want peace should not require blood.

Let us open our eyes, open our hearts — and most importantly, raise our voices. Because the silence of the world is louder than the bombs that fall on their villages.

And that — is the real tragedy.