First up was folk sensation Maithili Thakur, who clinched Alinagar in November after joining BJP. During question hour on Monday, she painted a grim picture of her local government hospital: a precariously leaning structure where patients, including expectant mothers and infants, receive treatment amid falling debris and leaks. ‘Why wait for a tragedy when health budgets keep rising?’ she challenged Health Minister Mangal Pandey.

The minister outlined ongoing approvals for new buildings and repairs for severely damaged ones, but Thakur interjected sharply: her hospital has languished on lists for years without progress. ‘Patients live in fear,’ she stressed, making a personal plea rooted in her long admiration for the minister’s work.

Days earlier, on February 3, Komal Singh, Muzaffarpur’s youngest MLA at 30, dismantled claims of a completed stadium in Jarang and Athwara panchayats. ‘No changing rooms, no tracks, no toilets—just school fields,’ she declared, rejecting the department’s report. Hailing from a prominent political family, her victory over RJD by over 23,000 votes marks her as a force to watch.

Minister Shreyasi Singh defended the 2021 project but pragmatically proposed inspections and fixes. The exchange ended on a note of promised action.

This duo’s debut performances reveal a new breed of legislators: passionate, unrelenting, and constituency-focused. In Bihar’s complex coalition politics, their stance could catalyze change or test party discipline.

Community groups and residents contend that this shortage is not a natural occurrence but a deliberate act of neglect. They argue that Gilgit-Baltistan, already lacking political rights, is consistently denied timely access to essential resources. A shopkeeper in Skardu lamented, “Whenever resources run short, this region gets hit first and recovers last. It has been like this for years.” This sentiment is echoed by families struggling to secure even basic meals.

The food crisis is exacerbated by ongoing, crippling electricity outages that leave many neighborhoods without power for extended periods. Businesses dependent on refrigeration and heating are struggling, while students face difficulties studying, ironically in a region that generates significant hydropower for Pakistan.

Residents attribute these persistent problems to Islamabad’s governance structure. Gilgit-Baltistan’s status outside Pakistan’s constitution, lacking representation in national legislative bodies and access to the Supreme Court, means critical decisions regarding resources are made remotely, with little local input. This has fostered a perception of a system that extracts resources without adequate return.

Civil society organizations highlight that the current winter wheat shortage could have been averted with proactive federal intervention. Despite repeated warnings from local administrations about diminishing supplies, officials allegedly offered only routine reassurances and blamed transportation delays. This inaction has fueled public frustration, leading to street protests across the region.

Protesters are linking the food crisis to broader grievances, including land acquisition for development projects without fair compensation, hydropower being diverted while locals face darkness, and major projects being initiated without consultation. They feel Gilgit-Baltistan, despite its strategic importance, is treated as a peripheral region.

For the people of Gilgit-Baltistan, the immediate concern remains securing enough wheat for their families. With winter intensifying and no clear action plan from Islamabad, fears are mounting that the situation will deteriorate further. After years of unfulfilled promises, residents believe this crisis underscores a deeper issue: a region blessed with natural wealth is struggling for basic sustenance due to its limited political influence.

During the interview, Hasan questioned the nature of power-sharing in Pakistan, highlighting the apparent dominance of military leaders over civilian officials. Hasan noted the unusual hierarchy where the Defence Minister seemingly answers to the head of the army. Asif responded by asserting his position as a political appointee and worker. He deflected comparisons to the U.S. system, where civilian leaders hold authority over military officials, instead referring to a ‘deep state’ model.

Asif conceded that the existing system is ‘hybrid,’ a term he has used before to describe the power dynamic between the military and civilian leadership. When asked about instances of disagreement between the two power centers, Asif stated that decisions are made by consensus. He acknowledged that this model, while not ideal, is a ‘practical necessity’ until Pakistan resolves its economic and governance challenges.