Four Christian Workers Vanish in Sheikhupura — And Pakistan Looks the Other Way

Pakistan never misses a chance to preach about justice, minority rights, and the rule of law on international stages. Yet on the ground, in a small village like Mana Wala, Basti Lam Wali, in Sheikhupura district, four poor Christian brick-kiln workers can allegedly be abducted — and the state barely stirs.

Tariq, Shahzad, Sagar, and Shahid were not criminals. They were not rioters, terrorists, or agitators. They were laborers who did exactly what the law tells them to do: they went to the Lahore High Court and petitioned for their lawful wages. Reports say the decision came in their favor. That should have been a small but meaningful victory for justice.

Instead, it may have become their death warrant.

According to their families, shortly after the court ruling, brick-kiln owner Rana Sher Khan and his associates allegedly abducted the four workers in retaliation. The timing is not a coincidence; it is a message. In Pakistan, when the poor dare to demand their rights, they are taught a brutal lesson.

And what has the state done in response? Almost nothing is visible.

Police have not issued any clear, detailed public statement. An “investigation” is said to be ongoing, but there is no sign of urgency, no visible outrage from the authorities, no strong assurance that the missing men will be recovered and the perpetrators punished. The families are left to run from office to office, begging for attention in a system that treats them as expendable.

This is not just the story of one kiln owner and four workers. It is a damning snapshot of how Pakistan treats its poorest citizens — especially when they are Christians and bonded laborers.

The families say they have repeatedly approached local police and even reached out again toward the higher judiciary, but claim that their pleas are being ignored. They allege that the kiln owner is a powerful and influential figure in the area, and that this clout is enough to paralyze meaningful action. In Pakistan, the word “influential” almost always means “untouchable.”

Let’s be blunt: if four sons of wealthy, well-connected families had vanished under similar circumstances, there would be raids, media noise, emergency meetings, and sweeping crackdowns. When the victims are poor Christian laborers, the files move slowly, if they move at all.

This is not a failure at the margins; it is a failure at the core. Pakistan’s system consistently proves that it bends for the powerful and breaks the weak.

Brick-kiln workers are already among the most exploited in the country. Many are trapped in cycles of debt, working in conditions that resemble modern-day slavery. Add the vulnerability of being a religious minority, and you get a community that can be threatened, harassed, and allegedly disappeared — apparently without provoking a national outcry.

What kind of state allows this?
What kind of system sends a clear signal that if you are poor and Christian, your life is worth less, your voice is quieter, your suffering is easier to ignore?

Pakistan’s Constitution promises equality before the law and protection of life and liberty. Internationally, officials talk about their commitment to human rights and minority protections. But those words ring hollow when four men can reportedly be snatched away after winning a legal case, and the response is bureaucratic lethargy and public silence.

“The voices of poor Christians are not being heard,” the families say. That one sentence is a complete indictment of the country’s moral and legal order.

The state doesn’t get to hide behind the excuse of “ongoing investigation” forever. Where are the public briefings? Where is the visible pressure on the alleged perpetrators? Where is the willingness to confront influential abusers instead of protecting them through inaction?

Every day that passes without clarity, without arrests, without real progress, Pakistan sends a chilling message to every laborer, every minority worker, every poor family: if something happens to you, don’t expect justice.

This case should be a line in the sand. At a minimum, there must be:

  • A transparent, time-bound investigation into the alleged abductions.
  • Immediate protective measures for the families and other workers who might be at risk.
  • A serious effort to dismantle the culture of immunity enjoyed by powerful brick-kiln owners and local strongmen.
  • Public acknowledgment that the lives of Christian laborers matter just as much as anyone else’s.

If Pakistan cannot even ensure that four men who used the courts to seek their lawful wages are safe from retaliation, then all its claims about justice and minority rights are a cruel joke.

Tariq, Shahzad, Sagar, and Shahid are not just names in a report. They are human beings whose only “offence” was believing that the law might protect them. Right now, Pakistan is proving them tragically wrong.

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