| Q |
aiser Abbas Turi, aged 30, is a public transport driver from Parachinar who has spent the last four years ferrying passengers between Parachinar, Peshawar and Islamabad. Sometimes he drives a Flying Coach; other times, a Toyota Fielder. His usual route, the Tal-Parachinar Road, winds through the troubled Kurram district.
Qaiser considers himself lucky. On November 21 last year, he was part of a convoy that came under attack while travelling from Peshawar to Parachinar. Miraculously, he and his passengers survived. But the incident forced him to leave the area. With the road closed, Qaiser relocated to Islamabad for several months to escape the unrest.
Now back at the terminal in Peshawar, he is preparing to return to Parachinar. After a 10-month closure due to security concerns, the Tal-Parachinar Road has been partially reopened. Initially, in May, only vehicles registered with the authorities for passenger and goods transport were allowed.
Last week, the government eased restrictions further, dropping the registration requirement and allowing open travel between 10am and 2pm. There is a caveat: all movement must take place via Shorko Road, also known locally as Defence Road. Travellers are advised to avoid the main highway outside these hours.
The 40-kilometre Shorko Road begins at Mahora in Lower Kurram and cuts through rugged hills and seasonal water channels before reconnecting with the main highway at Bilyamin Alizai, a Shia-majority area. Though the road is rough, partially unpaved and requires vehicles to wade through water due to a missing bridge, for the Shia community, it is the safer alternative.
Crucially, Shorko bypasses Sadda, a Sunni-majority town that Shia drivers continue to avoid due to threats and fears of attack. Only those with government backing or strong local connections dare to travel through Sadda.
Even so, once vehicles reach Alizai, they must rejoin the main Tal-Parachinar highway. That is where danger spikes. The 26-kilometre stretch between Bagan and Chappri has become a deadly flashpoint for sectarian attacks.
The current wave of violence began on October 12 last year, when a Sunni convoy was ambushed in Upper Kurram, leaving at least 17 dead, including women and children. In retaliation, two Shia convoys were attacked near Bagan on November 21, killing at least 50 people, including women and children. The following day, Shia tribes launched a reprisal attack in Bagan, killing around 35 Sunni residents and setting homes and shops ablaze.
These back-to-back attacks shattered any residual trust between the Sunni and Shia communities in Kurram. The violence inflicted heavy human and material losses, pushing residents to avoid each other’s areas entirely.
“The road is open, but only essential travellers, patients, students, government employees and daily-wage workers are willing to risk the journey,” says Qaiser. “Most Shia residents of Upper Kurram have stopped travelling altogether because of the safety concerns.”
The lack of trust remains deeply entrenched on both sides. Even local peace agreements have failed to restore a sense of security. The central highway is still widely perceived as dangerous.
Shaheen Gul, a resident of Bagan, says, “Despite the peace agreement, the fact that both sides are using alternative routes shows that there’s no trust. The government must ensure safe travel on the Tal-Parachinar Road.”
Travel costs have also surged. Before the unrest, a seat in a Flying Coach from Parachinar to Peshawar cost around Rs 1,200 and a private car ride was Rs 2,500. Today, those fares have risen to Rs 2,500 and Rs 5,000, respectively.
“The longer, riskier route justifies the price hike,” Qaiser says.
Kurram’s geography complicates matters. The district officially begins at Chappri, where the Sunni-majority area of Bagan stretches around 26 km. Just beyond lies Alizai, a Shia-majority town. Nearby, Sadda and its surrounding villages form another Sunni enclave.
Farther ahead, from the Balish Khel checkpoint in Lower Kurram to Parachinar city in Upper Kurram, a stretch of roughly 32 kilometres, the population is predominantly Shia. Sunni areas like Boshehra, Turi Mangal and Moqbil remain connected to the main highway through routes that pass through Shia territory. In Central Kurram, both sects live side by side, though tensions remain high.
For some, like Imtiaz Ali, aged 34, from Pewar in Upper Kurram, the fear is overwhelming. “I haven’t travelled from Parachinar to Peshawar in three years,” he says. “The road is unsafe. My family completely avoids the Tal-Parachinar route.”
When violence peaked, many Sunnis from Sadda stopped using the main road, fearing attacks in Alizai. Instead, they took a longer route through Tora Warai and Doaba in the neighbouring Hangu district. Though inconvenient, it is now their only viable option.
Mohammad Rehan, a resident of Bagan, says the recent string of attacks has deepened mistrust. “There’s no trust left,” he says. “Both Sunni and Shia communities avoid each other’s areas, despite the so-called peace pacts. The hatred has only grown.”
He says sectarian violence in Kurram is nothing new. From 2007 to 2011, tensions had escalated to the point where the main road was completely closed.
“But back then, social media wasn’t so widely used,” he adds. “Now, misinformation and hate speech online are fuelling the divide. The damage is so deep, it’s beyond what either community or the district administration can handle.”
Zeeshan Haider, a shopkeeper in Parachinar, recently travelled to Lahore. On his way out, he used the Shorko Road. On his return, he came through Sadda on the main Tal-Parachinar Road.
“Our car followed an ambulance. No one stopped us. We travelled safely,” Zeeshan says. “But I was still fearful while crossing Bagan and Sadda.”
The writer is a multimediaproducer. He tweets daudpasaney