On November 13, just two days after a suicide blast outside Islamabad’s district and sessions court killed 12 people and injured 36, the federal government announced a sweeping new security scheme for the capital.

The plan hinged on a “secure neighbourhood” registration drive, called the ICT (Islamabad Capital Territory) Household Survey. It was designed to collect information about who was occupying every house, shop or office across the city.

Officials framed it as a necessary response to a fast-changing city. Islamabad Deputy Commissioner Irfan Nawaz Memon, during a press briefing, said residents could fill the digital form themselves by downloading an app. However, survey teams, along with police, would still visit door-to-door. He added that the system would flag households with incomplete information, which the administration would retrieve, whether by “force or other means”.

Memon’s warning was not rhetorical.

On November 23, state-owned Associated Press of Pakistan (APP) reported that survey teams had recorded 5,553 households in person, while 2,592 residents submitted their information via the mobile app. The combined approach ensured coverage for residents with limited internet access or digital literacy, and officials said participation through the app had been steadily rising.

In Islamabad’s Sector I-8, Asad Shahid recalled hesitating when surveyors knocked on his door. “I was reluctant to share the details when the team visited my house,” he told Dawn.

Yet the dynamic shifted when he saw a policeman accompanying the survey team.

“One of my neighbours refused to cooperate with the team, so they called the police. When I saw this, I shared my information.”

Such scenes deepened a longstanding divide in how residents saw these periodic data drives, a practice Islamabad had revived multiple times since 2009.

Residents who supported the survey said it was a long-overdue attempt to understand who lived in the capital, especially after years of unregulated internal migration. Critics, on the other hand, viewed it as a “forced intrusion” lacking a legal framework and no guarantees of data protection.

Authorities insisted the purpose was straightforward. Per police and city administration officials, the survey was meant to provide comprehensive security for Islamabad’s residents, with one policeman, speaking anonymously, noting that a surge of newcomers from across Pakistan had increased the possibility that “militants and terrorists were among them and staying in the capital in rented houses”.

Officials admitted there was “no law to ask the details from the landlord and the tenants,” which was why the district magistrate was asked to issue compulsory orders.

The city had attempted similar surveys in 2009, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2019, 2023 and again in April 2024. Each cycle followed a familiar pattern: a security incident, an administrative push, and public resistance.

For some residents, the newest version was simply common sense.

“At the end of the day, I think it’s a good initiative,” said a resident of Sector F-8, who requested not to be named. “I checked with some of my connections, and it seems legit. It doesn’t seem to cause any harm, other than the fact that I don’t trust people with my private data. But with the app, if I can submit it online safely, I am fine with it. Mostly, I’ve heard the authorities want to kick out illegal residents.”

In Barakahu, Rayan Abbasi also welcomed the effort. “The government should know who is residing in a house. There are a large number of natives of the neighbouring country in my area, and no one knows what they do for a living or the number of their family members,” he said.

Residents of Shalimar and Mehran apartments said the survey could help curb the use of residential flats as boys’ hostels or for “late-night activities” where “residents never know who is coming”.

Faisal Khan, a resident of F-10, said the apartment he purchased in E-11/4 had become “notorious for parties and other illegal activities”.

“The resale value had gone down because the apartment building had been maligned. I am glad this initiative has been taken so we find out who is doing illegal stuff,” he added.

Arqam Naveed from Sector G-13, told Dawn, “I was hesitant initially when the survey team came, but my neighbour downstairs was giving the information, so I didn’t mind either.” He, however, added that the team “needs to show credentials or an authority letter.”

But not everyone was comfortable with the survey.

“Those living in posh and semi-posh areas are afraid of sharing their details,” one summary of resident feedback said, a worry repeated across Islamabad’s more affluent neighbourhoods.

Adnan from Sector F-7, who chose to be identified by his first name only, opined that the plan was “just for optics.”
“The government does not care about our privacy or security. This is just being done to calm the public down.”

Civil liberties groups were far more direct.

“Such campaigns could normalise extralegal surveillance, setting a precedent for unchecked government intrusion into private lives,” warned Haroon Baloch of Bytes for All, an NGO that advocates for digital rights, privacy, and freedom of expression in Pakistan.

He argued that the practice “undermines constitutional protections including Article 14 of Pakistan’s Constitution on dignity and privacy,” risks creating “a chilling effect,” and could easily become “a tool for political control, such as targeting dissenters, journalists, or minorities”.

Lawyers, too, saw legal chaos beneath the administrative confidence.

“It is a good initiative as far as the safety and security of citizens is concerned … But the biggest issue is the way they are collecting the data,” said Waiza Rafique, a high court lawyer.

“As of now, there is no law in Pakistan regarding data protection … no clear privacy protocols … and no defined punishments if those protocols are breached,” she warned.

“You can give Rs2,000 or even Rs500 to someone, and they can access all the history, data and everything. Privacy is compromised,” she said.

Political voices zeroed in on the same issue.

Senator Palwasha Khan, speaking in parliament, asked: “Under which law does the chairman allow harassment by ringing people’s doorbells and forcibly collecting private information? If this data is sold on the dark web for Rs100 … who will stop it?”

Even veteran rights advocates viewed the move as part of a wider pattern of intrusive governance.

“I think there’s already a lot of intrusion in the private lives of citizens by the state,” Harris Khalique, Secretary General of the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP), told Dawn. He argued that with the National Database and Registration Authority (Nadra) already possessing extensive citizen data, further household-level probing was unnecessary.

“There has to be some kind of a limit. This is not how crime is dealt with in other countries.”

The city administration, however, remained firm in its defence.

“People’s apprehensions about privacy invasion are baseless because their personal data already exists with Nadra,” DC Memon told Dawn. He insisted the survey is “standard practice worldwide” and added that so far, “our survey teams have been receiving cooperation from the public”.

Dawn also reached out to the Minister of State for Interior, Tallal Chaudhry, for a comment, but he did not respond.

Others preferred the government take a different route altogether.

Tariq Afghan, a high court advocate, said incidents like the court blast “once again exposed the gaps in our national security framework”. Instead of ad-hoc responses, he argued, the state must “fully and transparently implement the National Action Plan in letter and spirit” and craft uniform national security protocols with provinces.

As the survey continued, the city remained caught between cooperation and caution, leaving the balance between vigilance and intrusion unsettled.

Additional reporting by Nadir Guramani.

Header image: People are silhouetted as they cross a pedestrian bridge during sunset hours, in Islamabad on November 12, 2025. — Reuters