When an emergency strikes in a remote village, every minute matters. Yet for many people in rural Balochistan, professional medical help may be far away, while basic first-aid knowledge is limited.

With more than 60 per cent of Balochistan’s population living in remote areas, the lack of basic emergency training is a serious public health concern. Studies of rural communities have found that up to 26.6 per cent of household caregivers have never heard the term “first aid”. Among rural students, only 8.1 per cent demonstrated acceptable first-aid knowledge before receiving formal training. Nationwide, 31.4 per cent of untrained people identified the lack of local courses as a major barrier. In remote parts of Balochistan, opportunities for first-aid training are particularly limited.

This lack of knowledge can become dangerous during emergencies such as severe bleeding, burns, snakebites, choking, poisoning, agricultural injuries and road accidents. Instead of receiving appropriate first aid, some families rely on unverified traditional practices. Applying mud, ash, oil or other substances to wounds can cause infections, while improper treatment of burns, snakebites or poisoning can worsen a patient’s condition. Mishandling accident victims can also turn survivable injuries into permanent disabilities.

First aid cannot replace professional medical treatment, but the right knowledge during the first few minutes can prevent complications and save lives. I urge the provincial government, health authorities and community organisations to launch a province-wide first-aid awareness and training programme, particularly in remote districts. NGOs should also be encouraged to organise regular training sessions in villages and schools.

SAMRANA TARIQ,

Awaran.

In today’s fast-paced world, Artificial Intelligence (AI) is transforming almost every field, including music. The growing use of AI-generated music raises concerns about the preservation of traditional cultural music and, with it, our cultural identity.

Balochi music carries our traditions, stories, emotions and history. Instruments such as the dhol, dambora, sadood, benjo and tamburag, along with folk musicians such as Ustaad Noor Bakhsh, are part of our heritage. Ustaad Noor Bakhsh, particularly renowned for playing the Balochi banjo, is a celebrated musician from the Makran coast of Balochistan. Other traditional instruments, including the rabab and tamburag, have also carried Balochi music to wider audiences.

Traditional Balochi music is part of our identity and history. If we replace these songs and musicians with AI-generated music, we risk losing more than music; we risk losing a part of ourselves. Our traditional musicians, instruments, and cultural roots deserve to be respected, protected, and passed on to future generations.

The tamburag, in particular, has long been a voice for the people. In parts of Balochistan where writing and books were once limited, music helped preserve stories and emotions. Famous singers and poets used the tamburag to perform Zahirok, Nazenk, and epic stories such as Hani and Sheh Mureed. This is why people say the tamburag has carried generations of pain.

The voices of Balochi singers carry the echoes of our deserts and mountains. When I hear authentic traditional songs, I feel the heartbeat of who we are. AI may be able to reproduce rhythms, but it cannot replace the lived experience, emotion, and cultural memory behind them.

We must not allow technology to push our real artists aside. AI can imitate a rhythm, but it cannot feel the history behind a song. A tamburag learned from a grandfather carries something that an AI-generated composition cannot.

Support our local artists and communities. Protect our traditional instruments. Most importantly, keep our true music alive.

SAMEERA SHABEER,

Turbat.

The Khyber Pakhtunkhwa government’s decision to outsource 500 low-performing government primary schools to private partners is an ambitious attempt to address persistent weaknesses in public education. The initiative deserves scrutiny not because outsourcing is inherently wrong, but because the real question is whether changing management can solve problems rooted in deeper institutional weaknesses.

The government has identified low-performing schools for outsourcing and plans to monitor partners against enrolment, attendance and learning outcomes. But what happens if poor performance is caused by teacher shortages, weak supervision, inadequate infrastructure, difficult geographical conditions or inconsistent policy implementation? Transferring management without addressing these constraints could simply shift the problem rather than solve it.

As an educator within the KP public education system, I discussed the decision with colleagues. One senior teacher remarked, “Privatisation is not the solution to deep-rooted issues such as teacher shortages, outdated curricula and inconsistent teacher training.” Another enthusiastic newcomer offered a different but equally important perspective: “I believe the causes of the decline in the education system are policy implementation issues, not managerial activities.”

Both observations deserve consideration. Outsourcing may improve management in some schools, but it should not become a substitute for addressing systemic weaknesses. The government should establish clear baseline indicators and independently evaluate whether outsourced schools deliver better learning outcomes than comparable public schools.

If outsourcing is to be a policy experiment, its success must ultimately be measured not by who runs the school, but by whether children learn better.

MANZAR HASSAN,

Peshawar Cantt.