So, first things first: this is Ghazi Salahuddin Sahib’s regular space. But since he’s away this week (and hopefully enjoying a well-earned break), I’m taking the advantage – and the audacity – to use his slot for my own musings. He’ll be back next week, I promise.
Now, before you roll your eyes and wonder why I am writing about conferences when the 27th Amendment bombshell has just dropped, I explain: yes, this might seem trivial in the face of all the constitutional drama we are traumatised by but perhaps this is precisely why such things happen here? Because we, as a society, seem to have forgotten in-depth conversations. Everything is a sound bite. Everything has to be instantly tweetable, digestible, hashtag-able.
Or so I thought. But the past few days, sitting through the annual SDPI conference in Islamabad, I found myself thinking: did the art of the actual conversation go or did we just stop noticing it? The ‘we’ here is largely The Media.
I should probably start with the setting. The conference was held at the Allama Iqbal Open University. Which brings me to my love for campuses. I teach at two universities in Karachi, so I’m lucky to get that energy through the year: students as young as 18, others doing their Masters, all buzzing around with ideas, deadlines, life. Walking through a campus is my kind of meditation. It’s what keeps me from turning completely cynical which, let’s face it, is not too hard living here.
And this conference had that same hum – young volunteers running around, setting up panels, people actually listening to each other. The speakers weren’t cordoned off the way they often are at some of our fancy ‘literary’ to-dos; they were right there, mingling and chatting away. It felt refreshingly democratic. Over the three (and a bit) days, I sat in on panels that covered everything from girls’ education to cryptocurrency to transboundary water management. At one point, my brain felt like it had done a full circuit training session. But somewhere between the policy jargon and acronyms, there were moments that made me pause and realise that there are still people who want to do the work, who want to listen and explain. They just rarely get the airtime.
Because, as my wonderful friend and sounding board Nasim Zehra and I were discussing, ‘the conversation’ these days isn’t about ideas but about who spoke to whom. Who’s in which WhatsApp group. Who tweeted what. Basic hearsay dressed up as journalism or analysis. And everyone’s in a rush to seem like they know something. So when you sit in a space where people are actually unpacking things – not yelling at each other or sleepwalking through presentations prepared by someone else – it feels almost radical.
The session on girls’ education, held in collaboration with the Malala Fund, was powerful. Qamar Naseem, an education activist from KP and Urwa Naeem from the Pakistan Coalition for Education, stood out. Both cut through the usual policy-speak and threw some truth bombs about access, infrastructure and how education is a survival issue for so many girls (and sometimes also boys!). The session on sustainable cities sparked some thinking. Urban planning is usually treated like background noise in this country – until it floods. But here, the discussion touched on how cities are lived spaces, how sustainability needs to mean more than just planting trees and building flyovers.
Then there was the crypto session. Now, I’ll admit (and our business editor will attest to this) I’m as crypto-illiterate as they come. But this session was surprisingly engaging, with Ali Khawaja of K-Trade doing a particularly good job of making things clearer. I’m still not sure I get all the nuances, but at least now I know which rabbithole to fall into next.
The water sessions were also excellent – particularly the one on transboundary water management, moderated by Dr Shafqat Munir, featuring the eloquent Mr Faiyaz Murshi Kazi, a Bangladeshi diplomat, alongside our own Ambassador Shafqat Kakakhel and Mr Ahmad Kamal. And then there was a fascinating report launch – ‘Going Against the Grain: Implementing Pakistan’s Geoeconomic Pivot Amidst Geopolitical Chaos’ – authored by Dr Moeed Yusuf. The title alone sounds like a thesis, but the conversation it sparked on security, policy and the country’s broader direction was worth every minute.
Through all of this, what struck me wasn’t just the ‘content’ (the media’s favourite word) but the tone. The patience of people trying to understand complex things without dumbing them down. We live in a mainly TV and digital media ecosystem obsessed with optics, drama, scandal and spin. It’s not that people aren’t working or thinking deeply; it’s that our system doesn’t find that work ‘newsworthy’ – and I say this hat in hand, lest my peers in journalism come at me with pitchforks. But come on: a panel on water management will never trend. A long, nuanced discussion on education will get a tenth of the clicks that a political outburst gets.
So yes, maybe I’m being sentimental (or as my students say, ‘extra’), but I think there’s something to this idea that when we lose the habit of real conversation, we lose the capacity to imagine better solutions. Because when we stop talking – really talking – we create space for noise. And in that noise, big things happen without serious debate. Amendments are drafted. Decisions are made. Narratives are shaped. And we all just watch, react and move on to the next thing.
Perhaps, in its own small way, the conference was a reminder that there are still people trying to think beyond the headlines. And maybe that’s where some hope still lives: in the quiet persistence of those who keep showing up to explain and in the enthusiasm of students wanting to be ‘part’ of the conversation.
Postscript: Fair warning – next week I’ll be attending the Sahafi Summit in Lahore (also being held on a campus), so you might have to suffer through my reflections once again.
The writer heads the op-ed desk in this newspaper and teaches college and university students. She says stuff on X zburki and can be reached at: zburkigmail.com