HISTORY: THE KING SINDH NEVER FORGOT

Published June 7, 2026 Updated June 7, 2026 05:18am

Some periods in history do not survive as dates alone. They remain as memory, pride and atmosphere.

The age of Jam Nizamuddin Samo, affectionately remembered in Sindh as Jam Nindo, is one such period. It belongs to the late 15th century, when the Samma dynasty ruled from Thatta and Sindh occupied a strategic space between the Indus and the Arabian Sea.

Jam Nizamuddin II ruled from around 1461 to the opening years of the 16th century. His reign is widely remembered as the finest moment of Samma rule. The Sammas were a local Sindhi dynasty that rose after the decline of the Soomras. Their rulers used the title Jam, a word rooted in Sindhi political culture.

By the time Jam Nizamuddin came to power, Thatta was more than a royal capital. It had become a fortified city, a centre of religion and learning, and a thriving market town.

At its height under Jam Nizamuddin II, or Jam Nindo, the Samma kingdom stretched from Sibi to the Arabian Sea, connected India to the western ocean, and left behind the storied necropolis at Makli…

THE RIVER-SEA KINGDOM

The strength of his kingdom came from geography as much as governance. Sindh was not only an inland agricultural land; it was also a river-sea civilisation. The Indus carried grain, cotton, people and ideas towards the delta, while the ports of lower Sindh connected the region with Gujarat, Hormuz, Arabia, Persia and the western Indian Ocean.

Lahari Bandar — also called Lahori Bandar, Lari Bandar or Diul Sind — served as Thatta’s maritime outlet. Through this port, Sindh entered the commercial life of the wider world.

Thatta and Lahari Bandar functioned as a single system of power and exchange. Thatta was the capital, workshop and political centre; Lahari Bandar was the sea door. Merchants, sailors, saints, craftsmen and stories moved through this network. Sindh was part of the Indian Ocean’s living commerce.

The prosperity of Jam Nizamuddin’s time rested on agriculture, craft and trade together. Lower Sindh saw cultivation, settlement and production expand. Thatta became known for textile activity, using cotton from the upper Indus region and turning it into goods for inland and overseas markets. Cotton moved from fields to weavers, bazaars to boats, and the Indus to the wider sea.

THE FRONTIER AND THE COMING STORM

Jam Nizamuddin’s authority extended beyond lower Sindh. The Samma kingdom under him is generally remembered as including Sindh and exercising influence over parts of Punjab and Balochistan. The frontier towards Sibi was especially important because it connected Sindh with Balochistan and Kandahar. It was also the direction from which danger would later come.

In the later part of Jam Nizamuddin’s rule, Shah Beg Arghun began pressing Sindh from the northwest. The Samma state resisted him, and that resistance is closely associated with Darya Khan, the celebrated commander and statesman. In Sindhi memory, Darya Khan is not remembered simply as a general. He is remembered as a defender of Sindh. If Jam Nizamuddin gave the state dignity, Darya Khan gave it courage.

Later Sindhi historiography presents Jam Nizamuddin’s court as a place of justice, order and refinement. Such memories should be read with caution, because chronicles and folklore often eulogise rulers, especially when decline follows. Yet Jam Nizamuddin’s reputation has remained unusually steady. His reign is remembered as peaceful, prosperous and disciplined. The fall of the Sammas after him only made his rule shine more brightly in memory.

AN ARCHIVE IN STONE

The cultural richness of his period can still be felt at Makli, the great necropolis near Thatta. Makli is not just a graveyard. It is one of Sindh’s grandest archives in stone. Kings, saints, scholars, commanders and noble families lie there in the same sacred landscape.

The tomb of Jam Nizamuddin is among its finest monuments. Its carved stonework shows Sindhi, Islamic and Gujarati influences mingling with ease. Floral designs, carved bands, arched panels and ornamental patterns reveal a society of taste, skill and confidence.

Makli also shows that Sindh was not merely receiving culture from outside. It was absorbing influences and making them its own. The Samma period was connected to Gujarat, Persia and the Islamic world, but it remained deeply Sindhi. That is the mark of a culture sure of itself: it borrows without losing itself.

The spiritual world of the period was equally important. Sufis, saints, jurists, scholars, poets and noble families shaped the moral climate of Thatta and Makli. Power in Jam Nizamuddin’s Sindh was not only military or commercial. It also needed spiritual legitimacy. A ruler had to be seen as just, pious and protective. Courtly authority and sacred prestige met in the same landscape.

NEW COMMUNITIES, OLD ROOTS

The same conditions that made Thatta prosperous were also remaking its people, including trading communities linked with Sindh and Gujarat. Among them, the Memons hold a special place in community memory.

A widely repeated Memon tradition says that a group of Lohana families in the Thatta region converted to Islam in the 15th century under the influence of a saint usually associated with the Qadri order. These converts, according to the tradition, came to be known as Momins, a word that later morphed into Memon.

What can safely be said is that the Memons emerged from the larger Sindh-Gujarat mercantile world. Their background was shaped by Lohana trading roots, Islamic conversion, Sufi influence and later movement towards Kutch, Kathiawar, Gujarat, Bombay, East Africa and beyond.

In that sense, Jam Nizamuddin’s Sindh offered the right conditions for trading families to grow: a stable kingdom, a rich capital, textile production, river transport, access to the sea, Sufi networks and strong community organisation.

Whether every detail of the Memon origin story is provable or not, it points towards a real historical process. Fifteenth-century lower Sindh was a place where older Hindu, Islamic, Sindhi, Gujarati and mercantile identities were being reshaped into new communities.

Folklore remembers Jam Nindo as a just king. Sindhi memory often values rulers less for conquest than for justice, generosity, restraint and protection of the people. The name Jam Nindo itself carries warmth. He is not remembered only as Sultan Nizamuddin, a distant ruler in a chronicle, but as Jam Nindo, almost a familiar figure. That intimacy matters. It means he belongs not only to the palace, but also to the people.

THE END OF THE SAMMA AGE

After his death, decline began. His son Jam Feroz inherited a kingdom under pressure. Court rivalries, internal weakness and outside threats eventually opened the way for the Arghuns. As often happens, the golden age became clearer only after it had disappeared.

The Samma order under Jam Nindo came to represent a Sindh strong enough to defend itself, rich enough to trade widely, refined enough to build Makli, and open enough to produce saints, merchants, scholars and artisans.

The age of Jam Nizamuddin Samo, therefore, should be seen as one of Sindh’s great civilisational moments. It was not the mud-fort isolation that colonial accounts often imagined for Sindh. It was a deltaic kingdom with a capital at Thatta, a port at Lahari Bandar, cotton routes from the upper Indus, sea routes to Hormuz, artistic links with Gujarat and spiritual legitimacy anchored in Makli.

Its memory survives because it held together things that later fell apart: river and sea, trade and sovereignty, shrine and court, sword and textile, local pride and international contact. To write about Jam Nindo is to relive a Sindh that was never small. It looked towards Central Asia through Sibi, towards the Indian Ocean through Lahari Bandar, towards Gujarat through art and commerce, and towards eternity through Makli.

At the centre of that world stood Jam Nizamuddin Samo, the king whose reign became, for Sindh, a memory of what had once been possible.

The writer is a researcher with
a focus on history and anthropology.
He is also the founder of the Clifton
Urban Forest, Karachi. X: @masoodlohar

Published in Dawn, EOS, June 7th, 2026