PESHAWAR: Despite being in throes of violence for the past many decades, Peshawar, the capital of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, has most of the time enjoyed political stability.

The violence came and went but political stability was always there despite the sabre-rattling with federal government and marches on Islamabad. A semblance of understanding between Islamabad and Peshawar, no matter how little, was still there.

However, all this changed on Sunday after the imposition of governor’s rule and emergency in the province.

The night before, skies of Peshawar poured buckets, flooding roads and drenching the city; however, the Sunday morning was warm and sunny. Yet it started with a sense of dread as uncertainty hung heavy over the city. The telltale signs of not everything is good dawned upon after reaching for telephone, the ritual everyone does upon waking up. The impending doom was there for all to see: no mobile signals.

Routine journey in the city turns into hectic exercise as governor’s rule imposed

The city had witnessed a nearly 48 hours long mobile service blackout just days ago owing to PTI protest march.

Outside, the stations of Peshawar Bus Transit (BRT), whose buses come on road early in the morning, remained shut. The GT Road was closed at Firdous Chowk by placing shipping containers.

A large number of police personnel was deputed at this spot. Only pedestrians were allowed to move ahead on GT Road and a large number of cops were sitting outside the shuttered shops on GT Road between Hospital Road and Firdous Chowk, also called the Malik Saad Shaheed Chowk.

A bearded cop on the road stopped me and handed over a shopping bag containing fried peas. Perplexed, I looked at him and he turned his back toward me, asking me to put the peas into the back pocket of his bulletproof vest.

The gates of Bala Hisar Fort, which houses the headquarters of Frontier Corps North, were shuttered and a contingent of policemen was resting on the footpath. A few steps from here just outside the KP Assembly is Surey Chowk, from where GT Road leads commuters to Khyber Road, which houses the city red zone.

The road leading to Khyber Road was blocked with containers and the gate erected to control traffic was also closed. A large number of cops were milling around Surey Pul Square, which is the most favoured spot for protesters of all kinds and hues.

At the end of Justice Rustam Kiyani Road near central jail , where the artery leads to Sher Shah Suri Road, an old armoured personnel carrier was parked and two cops there were telling walkers not to proceed further. A few of us ignored their warnings but just next to MPA Hostel, a large contingent of cops yelled at us to go back and take detour through Shoba Bazaar.

The Jail Pul, which connects Sher Shah Suri Road with Khyber Bazaar, was also closed. I met an acquaintance there who offered to take me through Civil Secretariat and we entered the Police Road and secretariat without any hassle. Civil Secretariat, the beating heart of KP government, was completely deserted with a few cars parked outside the chief secretary office.

On Sahibzada Abdul Qayyum Road, where houses of minister and governor are located, security was very tight and police personnel were checking everyone heading towards both the houses. From the distance, I saw a large number of vehicles parked outside the Governor’s Houses.

Walking the road in the opposite direction towards Khyber Road, I saw an APC, a prison van and truck carrying riot police, heading in the direction of Chief Minister House.

After a few minutes’ walk, a barricade was erected on Khyber Road near Army Stadium and when I approached the personnel standing there and explained that I needed to cross to the other side, a plainclothes youth holding a radio just sputtered a series of “no, no, no, no. You must go back. This road is closed and we cannot open this barrier.”

I stood there in plain confusion thinking of what to do. No question of going back and with no telephone, I was unable to approach any official. Then as a last resort, I pleaded with paramilitary personnel to let me out and one of them signalled another guard to open the gate for me. But the plainclothes again jumped in front of me and said no.

Then the other, standing behind laughed, perhaps, they were enjoying my confusion or saw fear on my face. “How rudimentary freedom is,” muses one of the characters in JM Coetzee. Waiting for the Barbarians. Little did we realise how important is the ability to move freely without any fear, without being stopped.

Outside the stretch of Khyber Road, connecting University Road and Airport Road, Amn Chowk was open but there was little traffic. A large contingent of cops was present at Amn Chowk, previously called the Gora Qabristan Chowk. The University Road was blocked at Tehkal with containers, a biker told me.

There were also containers on Stadium Chowk only letting cars in a single line on both sides. Saddar Bazaar was partially open oblivious to changing political fortunes and game of thrones which was currently under way just a stone’s throw away.

A container was also placed on Arbab Road, connecting Mall Road to Saddar Road, with a few cops lazing under a tree outside the Presentation Convent School. For many years, marchers from Peshawar used to result into turning the federal capital into a fortress of containers but this time Islamabad instead sent containers to Peshawar. It is to be seen how long these containers are going to stay here. In the afternoon, the internet also died.

Published in Dawn, October 12th, 2026