Allahdad Wahid Baloch was born on 5 August 1996 at Lyari General Hospital in Karachi. Soon after his birth, he was brought to his ancestral land in the Singanisar area of Turbat, Balochistan—a land that would later shape his consciousness and become the cause to which he would dedicate his voice, intellect, and life. At the time, no one could have foreseen that this child would grow into an extraordinary presence, or that he would one day emerge as a rare blessing for his people and the Baloch nation.
Among family and friends, he was affectionately called “Dad,” a name symbolizing a gift. And truly, he was a gift—of thought, courage, and conscience—bestowed upon a nation that would one day mourn his absence with unbearable grief.
From an early age, Allahdad devoted himself to the service of his people. He believed that a nation’s true strength lies in awareness, unity, and pride. His life’s mission was to awaken this consciousness among the Baloch through education, literature, and culture. For him, the preservation and promotion of the Balochi language and heritage were not merely cultural responsibilities; they were acts of resistance against erasure.
Every article he wrote, every idea he shared, and every effort he made to translate and circulate literature was guided by a singular vision: to empower the Baloch community, defend its identity, and instill pride in its history and struggles. In his understanding, intellectual engagement and cultural work were inseparable from the struggle for dignity and justice.
Allahdad combined his literary pursuits with fearless journalism, wielding his pen as a weapon against imposed narratives and manufactured silence. He did not write for recognition or acclaim; he wrote to give voice to the silenced, to expose injustice, and to inspire his people to value their heritage and demand their rights. Through this commitment, he became more than a writer—he became a symbol of resistance, courage, and the transformative power of ideas.
I never had the opportunity to meet Allahdad Wahid Baloch, nor did I closely follow his work during his lifetime. Yet as I gradually engaged with his writings and intellectual struggle, a painful realization emerged: the Baloch nation had not merely lost a young man, but one of its most conscious and fearless voices. His absence feels deliberate, as though a light was extinguished to deepen the surrounding darkness.
I vividly remember the protest held in his memory at Fida Shaheed Chowk in Turbat. That gathering was not only an act of mourning; it was a collective outcry against injustice. Amid the crowd stood his family members, clutching his photograph to their chests, their faces etched with grief, fear, and helplessness. I approached one of them and asked, “Who is the person in the photograph you are holding?” With a trembling voice that cut through the silence, she replied, “This is my brother, Allahdad.”
When I asked why he was killed, she could not answer. She broke down in tears. That silence spoke louder than any explanation. It reflected a land where thinkers are punished for thinking, journalists are killed for writing, and even asking why becomes an unbearable act.
Allahdad Wahid Baloch was killed, but the purpose he lived for—the awakening and empowerment of the Baloch nation—remains alive. His life stands as undeniable proof that ideas cannot be buried and that the struggle for dignity continues even when its bravest voices are taken away.
From this reality, one truth becomes painfully clear: the state does not allow such individuals to survive within the Baloch community—those who think for their people, write about them, speak for them, and strive to advance their collective cause. The state does not tolerate voices that promote Baloch identity, awareness, and progress. Numerous examples testify to this, among the most tragic being the murder of the renowned thinker, writer, and journalist Sajid Hussain. Like Allahdad, he too was a conscious voice of the Baloch nation, and like him, he was silenced.
These realities reveal a grim conclusion: the state does not want the Baloch community to advance intellectually, culturally, or politically. It seeks not development, but suppression; not progress, but erasure.
On 4 February 2025, Allahdad Wahid Baloch was deliberately targeted and martyred in Turbat. His killing was neither random nor isolated. It was part of a systematic pattern of extrajudicial violence aimed at silencing educated, conscious, and questioning Baloch youth and intellectuals.
Yet even in death, Allahdad’s life delivers a powerful message. It reminds us that the true strength of a society lies in knowledge, language, awareness, and resistance. As long as people continue to read, write, and think in Balochi—so long as they refuse to surrender their consciousness—his vision will endure.
Allahdad Wahid Baloch is no longer remembered merely as an individual. He has become an idea—an idea that cannot be erased. That idea now belongs to all of us. Carrying it forward is no longer a choice; it is a shared responsibility, and the continuation of a dream that no bullet could ever silence.
