Think of a family taking in a neighbor whose house burned down, sharing their meals, their space, and their sincere concern. For so long, that’s how Pakistan has treated Afghanistan. We opened our country to millions of Afghans running from war and conflict, giving them a safe place and the essentials to get by. It was more than just being a good neighbor; it came from a place of shared heritage, a feeling of brotherhood, and a deep well of empathy. But now, picture that same family finding out the neighbor they sheltered is secretly letting criminals hide out in their house – criminals who are sneaking over to your house, robbing, attacking, and even killing. That sickening feeling, that gut-wrenching disappointment, that’s what Pakistan is grappling with. News is surfacing, credible reports, that point to parts of the Afghan Taliban working directly with those who are actively trying to hurt Pakistan, especially India’s intelligence services. It goes beyond politics; it hits you in the heart. It’s Pakistani families grieving loved ones lost in terrorist attacks, children terrified to go to school, communities living under a cloud of constant threat. This instability, this violence it bleeds over the border, directly into our lives. And the sharpest pain comes from knowing that groups like the TTP and ISKP, the ones responsible for so much suffering in Pakistan, are being sheltered just across the border, with the apparent knowledge of the Afghan Taliban. It’s even worse to hear former TTP leaders openly confess that Afghan and Indian intelligence agencies gave them money and support to attack us. It truly is crushing. Pakistan’s commitment to peace remains firm. But we won’t tolerate our kindness, our help, being turned around and used against us. And that welcoming hand we extended to refugees? It now carries a heavy weight of unease. Pakistan, of course, always has compassion and wishes to aid genuine refugees. But how do we separate the innocent, who require safety, and terrorists posing as the helpless? Reports of armed militants, pretending to be refugees, being arrested and planning terrible attacks it breeds suspicion, even where there shouldn’t be any. Everyday living is not normal as it use to be. Through all of this, our soldiers, our brave Pakistani Army, stand firm. They’re constantly on alert, conducting dangerous operations, risking everything to track down terrorists and keep us safe. They’re like our protectors, doing everything. Yet the betrayal still stings, the feeling that our neighbor, someone we showed such compassion, would allow – or maybe even assist – these attacks on us. This defies all notions of respect and fairness. It’s come to a painful, crucial point: Pakistan must safeguard its own people. It doesn’t imply callousness, only practical necessity. We’ve got to seriously manage who’s inside our borders, ensuring everyone has the correct paperwork, and enforcing it rigorously. It’s essential. It means making the border much stronger, increasing surveillance – like building a sturdy fence, not to isolate, but to keep what’s inside secure. It means calling on the world to take notice, putting pressure on the Afghan government to quit providing sanctuary to terrorists. This is no thirst for retaliation; it’s an act of desperation for safety and preservation. Pakistan’s commitment to peace remains firm. But we won’t tolerate our kindness, our help, being turned around and used against us. The time is urgent for concrete action, for the protection of the innocent, and to require basic respect. The pain is deep, trust broken by those shown grace. For those bearing its cost everyday, a change cannot come quick enough. The writer is a freelance journalist and columnist.