The term “Terrorism Defined” carries a heavy weight, doesn’t it? And rightly so, as it signifies the utter devastation of innocence. Only those who have witnessed it firsthand truly understand its horrors, while others merely glean fragments of information from the news. In Pakistan, we often attribute these atrocious acts—suicide bombings, targeted killings, and genocide—to unidentified perpetrators or third parties. This ambiguity is what frustrates us the most: the inability to identify those responsible for the loss of our loved ones. It’s a harrowing situation to be in—unable to ascertain who tore apart our families, uncertain if we’ll ever find solace or justice.
Even more tragic is the fact that these victims are often innocent civilians. This is the harsh reality my people face every single day. In an instant, a woman becomes a widow, young children are left orphaned, a mother mourns the loss of her only child, and a father loses the light of his life. Yet, despite the overwhelming grief and pain, my people persevere. Even when all that remains is a tear in the eye or a lingering ache in the heart, they find the strength to carry on. It’s the glimmer of hope, however faint, that sustains them. And you know what? It’s all they need to endure.
