By Sardar Khan Niazi

In the din of daily political chaos, economic struggle, and social media noise, one voice has gone missing in Pakistan: the voice of conscience. Once a powerful internal compass that guided our collective sense of right and wrong, it now seems buried beneath layers of apathy, fear, and distraction. As a nation, we are in urgent need of a moral revival–not of slogans or ideologies, but of conscience. Every day, we witness injustices that should shake us to the core, yet they hardly register. A child begging at a traffic signal. A video of police brutality. A story of corruption quietly buried under newer headlines. We scroll, we sigh, we move on. This casual detachment is not a coincidence–it is a symptom of collective moral fatigue. The more we normalize wrongs, the more desensitized we become to them. In the end, nothing shocks us, and worse, nothing moves us. Pakistan has always had its challenges–colonial legacies, fragile institutions, religious extremism, and a fraught political history. However, what is deeply alarming today is how these issues no longer evoke outrage in the way they once did. Our moral vocabulary is eroding. We can no longer distinguish between right and convenient. The value system that once held society together–rooted in empathy, honesty, and social responsibility–is cracking under the weight of cynicism. Where is our outrage when public funds are looted? Where is our empathy when our fellow citizens drown in monsoon floods year after year? Why is it that we express anger only when our own interests are at stake, but remain indifferent when the vulnerable suffer? The answer lies in the silence of our conscience. Religion, often touted as our moral foundation, has unfortunately been used more for judgment than for compassion. The essence of faith, which teaches humility, truth, and care for others, has been overshadowed by a performative religiosity. Prayers without purpose. Rituals without reflection. We need to remember that true piety is impossible without a living, breathing conscience. Reviving the conscience of a nation is not easy. It requires more than calls for national unity or patriotism. It demands introspection. Each citizen, regardless of class or creed, must ask, Am I part of the problem? Have I ignored injustice simply because it did not affect me directly? Have I contributed to corruption, even in small ways–bribing a traffic cop, lying on my tax returns, turning a blind eye to harassment? Conscience begins with the individual. However, it does not end there. Our institutions–schools, media, religious centers–must stop reinforcing silence and start encouraging moral courage. The education system, in particular, must shift its focus from rote memorization to critical thinking, ethics, and civic responsibility. A student who memorizes historical dates but does not understand the meaning of justice is not educated–just informed. The media, too, has a role. Sensationalism sells, but conscience sustains. We need fewer shouting matches and more nuanced discussions. We need journalism that holds power accountable–not just for ratings, but for justice. Ultimately, a revival of conscience is a revival of hope. It means refusing to accept that this is just how things are. It means reclaiming the ability to feel, to care, and to act. It means seeing each other not as competitors in a collapsing system, but as fellow travelers in a shared journey. Pakistan stands at a crossroads–again. However, this time, the fork is not just political or economic. It is moral. Do we continue down a path of selective silence and convenient justifications, or do we awaken our dormant conscience and reclaim the soul of our nation? The choice, as always, is ours.