DERA BUGTI, Pakistan — The names Sui, Loti, and Pir Koh are etched into Pakistan’s energy history. These gas fields, discovered in the mid‑20th century, became lifelines for a nation desperate for fuel. They powered factories, lit homes, and symbolized progress. But for the people living above them, the legacy is not one of development — it is one of extraction.
When gas was first struck in Sui in 1952, the discovery was hailed as a national triumph. The fields of Dera Bugti were expected to transform Balochistan, a province long marginalized in the national imagination. Politicians promised schools, hospitals, and roads. The rhetoric was grand: the birthplace of Pakistan’s energy revolution would finally share in the prosperity it had unleashed.
But the promises never materialized. Decades later, the villages surrounding Sui, Loti, and Pir Koh remain impoverished. Schools are crumbling, clinics are understaffed, and clean water is scarce. “We gave Pakistan its energy,” said a tribal elder in Loti, “but we are left with dust and disease.”
The pattern is clear. Revenues from gas flowed to federal coffers, contracts to politically connected companies, and jobs to outsiders. Local communities saw little of the billions generated. Development projects were announced but rarely completed. Roads were built to reach the wells, not the villages. Hospitals were planned but left unfinished.
Economists call it the “resource curse” — when wealth extracted from the ground enriches outsiders but impoverishes locals. In Dera Bugti, the curse is written in broken promises.
The absence of development is visible in everyday life. Children walk miles to reach makeshift schools, often without books or teachers. Women give birth at home, without medical care, risking their lives. Families rely on brackish wells or tanker deliveries for water, fueling disease and despair.
The irony is bitter. Gas pipelines crisscross the district, carrying energy to distant cities. But water pipelines, promised for decades, never materialized. “Every election brings new promises,” said a schoolteacher in Pir Koh. “But the only thing that arrives is another pipeline.”
The grievances have fueled insurgency. Militants have repeatedly targeted pipelines and installations, seeing them as symbols of exploitation. Each attack prompts the state to tighten security, often militarizing the district, but rarely addressing the underlying deprivation.
For residents, the presence of armed guards around gas facilities is a daily reminder that the wealth beneath their soil is protected for outsiders, not for them. “We guard the pipelines,” said a young man in Loti, “but our own homes remain in darkness.”
As reserves decline, companies scale back operations, and workers leave. But poverty remains entrenched. The district’s economy never diversified, tethered entirely to gas. With wells running dry, residents face a future of unemployment and neglect.
For many, the decline of the gas fields is not just an economic blow but a moral one. “We gave Pakistan its energy,” said a farmer. “Now the wells are empty, and we are left with nothing.”
In national debates, Dera Bugti’s plight is rarely discussed. The district is seen as a resource hub, not a community. Its gas fields are symbols of national pride, but its poverty is treated as a local inconvenience.
Yet the story of Sui, Loti, and Pir Koh is emblematic of a larger challenge: how to balance national development with local justice. Without addressing the inequities of resource distribution, Pakistan risks deepening the very divisions that have long haunted its federation.
Decades of promises have yielded little. Development funds vanish into contracts and kickbacks, while basic services never arrive. The gas fields, once symbols of national pride, have become reminders of neglect.
For the families who still cook over wood fires and drink from dirty wells, the irony is bitter. They live atop one of the country’s richest energy deposits, yet remain trapped in poverty. The pipelines carry gas to distant cities, but the smoke of burning wood lingers in their homes.
From Sui to Loti, the legacy is not one of development. It is one of extraction.