News Desk
DERA BUGTI, Balochistan — Steel pipelines cut across the barren hills, carrying natural gas that has powered Pakistan’s industries and lit its homes for more than seventy years. They are symbols of national progress, arteries of energy that stretch from the remote fields of Sui and Loti to the bustling cities of Karachi and Lahore. But for the families who live closest to the wells, the pipelines represent something else entirely: power for the nation, but not for the people.
The discovery of gas in Sui in 1952 was hailed as a triumph for Pakistan. The pipelines that followed became lifelines for the country’s economy, fueling factories, offices, and households. Yet in Dera Bugti, where the pipelines begin, families still cook over wood fires, drink from brackish wells, and send children to crumbling schools.
“We see the pipelines above us,” said a tribal elder in Pir Koh. “But our children breathe smoke from burning wood.”
Balochistan is Pakistan’s largest province by landmass, but among its poorest by human development indicators. Literacy rates lag far behind the national average. Maternal mortality is among the highest in the country. Access to clean drinking water is scarce, forcing families to rely on tanker deliveries at exorbitant prices.
The paradox is stark: pipelines carry energy across the nation, but the communities beneath them remain impoverished.
Successive governments promised that royalties from gas would fund schools, hospitals, and roads in Balochistan. Contracts were signed, budgets allocated, and announcements made. Yet in Dera Bugti, most of those projects remain unfinished or abandoned.
Schools stand half-built, their walls cracked and roofs missing. Clinics exist only on paper. Roads lead to gas installations but bypass villages. “Every election brings new promises,” said a teacher in Loti. “But the only thing we see are pipelines.”
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 spend hours collecting firewood, a task that consumes time and energy that could be spent on education or work.
The irony is bitter. Gas pipelines crisscross the district, carrying energy to distant cities. But water pipelines, promised for decades, never materialized.
The neglect has fuelled resentment and insurgency. Militants target 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 Sui, “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 sacrificed our land for the nation,” said a farmer. “Now the wells are empty, and we are left with nothing.”
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 cruel. Their land fuels the nation, but their own lives remain impoverished.
In Balochistan, the pipelines carry power to the nation — but not to the people.
