In Pakistan, they are waiting for loved ones who may never return

Every evening in a small village in the province of Balochistan in Pakistan, 55-year-old Zainab Bibi places her son’s dinner plate on the kitchen floor before quietly putting it away untouched. It has been eight years since Waseem disappeared. His clothes are still folded inside a metal cupboard. His shoes remain beside the bed. Neighbours tell her to move on, but she cannot. “If he comes back and sees I removed his things, what will he think?” she asks softly.

Across Pakistan, particularly in Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, thousands of families live in a state of uncertainty that can last for years or even decades. According to Pakistan’s Commission of Inquiry on Enforced Disappearances (COIED), more than 10,600 cases of enforced disappearances have been registered since 2011. Precise figures on unsolved cases are sometimes several years old and vary, but there were already more than 2100 in 2019, and 60 more were added in 2025 alone. Human-rights organisations argue that the real number may be far higher because many families fear reporting disappearances publicly.

Emotional and economic burden

Despite years of investigations, protests and official inquiries, hundreds of families are still waiting for answers. For those left behind, the disappearance creates a unique form of suffering. There is no funeral, no grave and no certainty. Psychologists describe this experience as “ambiguous loss” – a condition in which people are trapped between believing that someone is alive and fearing they may never return.

The emotional burden often becomes an economic one as well. In many households, the missing person was the primary breadwinner. Women who never worked outside their homes suddenly become responsible for feeding children, paying rent and navigating legal systems they barely understand. Children frequently leave school because families can no longer afford fees or transportation.

Kidnappings in Pakistan occur for different reasons depending on the region. In many cases, organised criminal gangs abduct people for ransom, targeting business owners and affluent families to generate income. In Balochistan, however, disappearances are linked to the province’s long-running conflict between Baloch nationalist groups and the Pakistani state. Human-rights groups including Amnesty International (AI) and Human Rights Watch (HRW) have highlighted cases where (alleged) political activists have been abducted. AI reports that disappearances have been linked to state security agencies operating beyond judicial oversight.

Civil-society organisations have repeatedly called on Pakistan to criminalise enforced disappearances and ensure transparent investigations into missing persons cases. Families of the disappeared continue to organise long marches and protests in Quetta, Karachi and Islamabad, carrying photographs of loved ones whose whereabouts remain unknown. Yet for many Pakistanis, the issue appears briefly in headlines before fading from public attention.

Every unknown phone call feeds hope

The uncertainty reaches deep into the lives of children as well. In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, 12-year-old Hamza has grown up with memories that seem so far away and yet are so alive. He was four years old when his father reportedly disappeared after being taken away during a late-night raid. Today, after returning from school, he still asks his mother the same question: “Will Abbu come back?” She never knows how to answer. Hamza says he avoids school events where fathers are invited. “Other children go home with their fathers,” he says quietly. “I don’t know where mine is.”

Despite the years of waiting, many families refuse to stop searching. For Zainab Bibi, it never really pauses. Every knock on the door interrupts sleep. Every unknown phone number brings temporary hope. Outside her home, she still keeps the porch light on every night. “Maybe he will come home late,” she says.

Aqsa Younas is an international journalist and social activist based in Pakistan.
aqsayounas666@gmail.com