Author: Sayad Hasil
In the heart of Dasht, Zarren-Bug, a remote and rugged area in Kech district, life unfolds in a way that many have never known. With no roads, hospitals, schools, or even basic facilities, this isolated area is home to people who live freely, joyfully, and lovingly. The people here have a deep bond with their land, a bond that has been passed down through generations, as they work the earth, tend to their flocks, and find solace in the simplicity of their daily lives.
Among them is a shepherd, a man who has never strayed far from his homeland. Each day, as the sun rises, he takes his goats to the nearby forest, navigating the land that has been his playground since childhood. Before sunset, or “Roolah,” as the locals call it, he returns home, guided by the same mountains and forests that have shaped his life. These natural surroundings have been his companions from youth to old age, a constant presence in a world that has rapidly changed around him.
This shepherd, who has never seen a city, knows nothing of the hustle and bustle of urban life. He has never asked himself what life looks like beyond the borders of his land. His connection to the earth, the stars, and the moon is deep and unwavering. To him, the sky over his land is a constant companion, a symbol of everything he holds dear.
In 2016, when the entire area of Dasht was militarized and people were forced to flee, the shepherd stood his ground. His neighbors tried their best to convince him to leave, suggesting that life elsewhere would be better—promising better opportunities for his children, access to education, and healthcare. They argued that migrating would spare him from the daily humiliation at the hands of invading military forces. But the shepherd refused.
He turned to his land and asked the simple yet profound question: “Is there anything more valuable than this land?” He spoke of how no educational institution could provide the knowledge that the mountains and forests imparted to him. “Being educated without knowledge is meaningless,” he said. “My land is more knowledgeable than any school.”
To the people around him, his words sounded foolish. They laughed at him, calling him illiterate and mad. But the shepherd stood firm. While his neighbors packed up and left, he stayed. He stayed for his land, the graves of his ancestors, his goats, his sky, and the very essence of home. In a region where most saw only hardship, he saw his heritage and the legacy of those who had come before him.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the shepherd’s resilience was tested. Foreign-speaking soldiers arrived at his home, warning him to leave. They seized some of his goats, but still, he refused to surrender. Each time the forces attacked, the shepherd was abducted and tortured. Yet, despite the violence and intimidation, he never abandoned his land. His spirit remained unbroken, and he continued to defend the place that had been his home for so long.
Over the years, as the situation in the area shifted and people began to return, the shepherd remained. Older now, but still steadfast, he had never wavered in his commitment to his land. As others returned, they were ashamed in the face of his unyielding determination. He had not betrayed his land, nor had he abandoned his principles. In a world that often prizes material wealth and the promise of a different life, the shepherd had held firm to the belief that his land—his heritage—was worth more than anything else.
The shepherd’s story is a powerful reminder that the land is the heart of the people. Without the land, there are no people, and without the people, there is nothing. The land is the most valuable thing a person can have, and there is no greater duty than to protect it. For the shepherd, safeguarding his land meant safeguarding his identity, his history, and his very existence.
His story stands as a testament to the enduring strength of those who refuse to let go of what they hold most dear. In a world where so many quickly give up their roots, this shepherd remains a living example of resilience, loyalty, and the deep connection between people and the land they call home.
Today, when I’m far from my land, when I’ve had to leave my homeland in fear of death, I remember that shepherd. I feel ashamed of myself in front of that man. I am educated, but I don’t have knowledge. The shepherd, with his deep understanding of the land and life, taught me that true wisdom lies not in the books we read but in the lessons the earth itself can teach us. His unwavering commitment to his land is a powerful reminder of what it means to truly belong to a place, hold its values close, and protect it with everything you have.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of The Balochistan Post or any of its editors.