I asked him, “But the Maryam government is doing so much for farmers, distributing tractors, issuing farmer cards. Haven’t you received anything?”
He sighed, “I’m poor. How could I ever reach that far?”
Allah Ditta’s story isn’t unique. Arsalan from Bahawalnagar, Asim and Allah Diwaya from Cholistan, Fareed from Okara, and Ramzan from Toba Tek Singh all have the same complaint.
Cotton was bought at the lowest possible rate, wheat too was sold for next to nothing. Potatoes, sugarcane, every crop fetched such meager prices that farmers couldn’t even recover their costs.
We’ve seen it again and again, when a crop nears harvest, farmers pour their sweat into the soil. Whether it’s scorching heat or biting cold, they work tirelessly in their fields. On those freezing nights when policymakers sleep under warm blankets, a farmer is out watering his cotton. And when it’s time to sell, he gets a price that makes his head spin.
The same happens with sugarcane. When it’s sold to sugar mills, the rates are driven to the ground. And once the crushing season ends, sugar prices shoot up, as they are now. The mills delay payments for months. Wheat and other crops face the same fate. And sometimes, nature itself turns against them, a flood washes away the ready-to-harvest fields, or hailstorms destroy everything, as we’ve seen recently. From the Pakistan–India border down to South Punjab’s Muzaffargarh, floods have wreaked havoc.
It’s hard to understand why there’s such apathy toward the 70 percent of Pakistan’s population that depends on agriculture. When a farmer brings his produce or vegetables to the city, everyone, from the police constable to the commission agent, takes their cut. Even those who raise livestock face exploitation. They spend the whole year feeding and caring for their animals, hoping to make some money during Eid-ul-Azha.
But when that day comes, TV channels and newspapers erupt with headlines: “This year, animals are too expensive!” No one asks why the farmer who sacrifices himself all year shouldn’t earn something when others sacrifice for just one day.
Once again, farmers are taking to the streets. The government wants to buy wheat at Rs. 3,500 per maund, while farmers demand Rs. 5,500. They’re also asking for higher prices for other crops. Fertilizer costs, meanwhile, are completely out of reach.
It’s said that Punjab Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz is like a ‘mother to all.’ If that’s true, then here’s a plea: You’ve seen the flood victims, you’ve visited their broken homes, now go visit a farmer in his field. Stand beside him. Make a TikTok with him if you must.
Even today, the farmer stands barefoot in his field, wearing only a vest and lungi, while his children wander the same soil. Meanwhile, the cotton traders have built dozens of textile mills from his sweat.
It’s great that roads are being built across Punjab, that cities are being beautified with Chinese cooperation, that even sanitation workers wear uniforms bearing your photo, it all looks good. Build your bridges, your industries, your cities. But remember this: the backbone of this country, the farmer, is dying under your indifference.
Punjab’s farmers are perishing. Maryam Madam, if anyone can save them, it’s you.
Note: The institution does not necessarily agree with the blogger’s personal views. — Editor
