The state of law and order in KPK has become a metaphor for the breakdown of governance. From tribal clashes in Kurram to violent attacks in Malam Jabba, where a police officer tragically lost his life in an IED explosion, KPK is being torn apart by instability. The provincial police, once a robust institution, now appear overwhelmed, and those tasked with ensuring public safety seem absent. But these are just the most visible symptoms of a deeper crisis – a government that has effectively abdicated its responsibilities. Chief Minister Ali Amin Gandapur’s government seems more intent on political survival than governing. Instead of addressing the grave issues within his jurisdiction, the Chief Minister spends his time mobilizing party workers and attending rallies, far from the province that elected him. Meanwhile, the province faces a breakdown in almost every aspect of governance, from law enforcement to service delivery. Take the education sector. It’s been hijacked by corruption and neglect. Reports of jobs sold for bribes have become common, while the provincial education minister appears incapable of solving even the smallest issues. Under the guise of privatization, public lands and schools are being sold off, exacerbating inequality and pushing quality education further out of reach for the province’s poorest citizens. The rot runs deep, and the future of KPK’s children hangs in the balance. Chief Minister Ali Amin Gandapur’s government seems more intent on political survival than governing. The healthcare system is in no better condition. Hospitals are overcrowded, underfunded, and staffed by professionals who are either disillusioned or disempowered. The lack of investment in public health infrastructure is an ongoing crisis that leaves countless people without adequate medical care, especially in rural areas where healthcare is already a scarce commodity. In times of crises, like the ongoing threat of terrorism and political unrest, it is the most vulnerable who pay the price for this negligence. Corruption in KPK has become a recurring theme, infecting every corner of governance. The much-publicized Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) project, once hailed as a game-changer for the province, has been riddled with allegations of fraud. National Accountability Bureau (NAB) investigations have exposed shocking levels of mismanagement in this and other public projects, including the much-touted Billion Tree Tsunami. These instances aren’t just outliers-they’re indicative of a broader culture of graft and incompetence that has taken root across KPK. In a province where every sector is teetering on the edge of collapse, one wonders how long this can continue. Even the basic functions of government are neglected. Reports of key officials abandoning their posts to follow Gandapur to political events in Lahore are a stark reminder of the level of indifference towards the province’s mounting crises. The question that haunts every citizen of KPK is: where is the leadership, and when will they start governing? There are glimmers of hope, of course. NAB’s operation that saved Rs168.5 billion for the national exchequer by dismissing a contractor’s dubious claims stands out as a rare success in an otherwise bleak landscape. But isolated victories cannot salvage a government mired in incompetence. The people of KPK need more than one-off success stories; they need systemic reform and a government that genuinely cares about their future. The real tragedy is that the people of KPK had placed their hopes in PTI, believing that their vote could lead to meaningful change. Yet, the overwhelming sense of betrayal is palpable. How can the people trust a government that shows such blatant disregard for their well-being? How can they expect progress in education and healthcare when those in power are more focused on political grandstanding than on improving the lives of their constituents? KPK deserves better. Its people deserve a government that listens, prioritizes public services over political games, and addresses the pressing issues in education and healthcare. They deserve leadership that does more than just pay lip service to reform but takes concrete action to ensure that every citizen has access to quality education and healthcare. As KPK teeters on the edge, the question looms large: how much longer can the people endure this neglect before the situation spirals out of control? How long before the government recognizes that it is not rallies, but schools and hospitals, that truly shape the future of a province? If the government continues to fail in these most basic duties, it risks leaving KPK in a state of irreversible decline. The writer is a freelance columnist.