Although spoken only in hushed whispers and secret gossip, a collective sigh of relief followed the assassination of the notorious dacoit, Mulban Badshah, alias “Multoo.” For three decades, he had reigned as a living symbol of cruelty and ferociousness. His terror-infused dominion stretched from the northern kacha areas of Bakhar, Khaki, and Maudero all the way south to Kajudero. So deeply feared was his name that it made people shudder with panic. Dejected by the state’s lack of authority, locals had no choice but to comply with his demands—openly praising his bravery while privately loathing his existence.
Gradually, Multoo became the de facto ruler of the riverbed areas, to the point where no family dared to arrange a marriage without his tacit approval. He extorted exorbitant protection money from everyone. In the beginning, authorities turned a blind eye to his gang’s presence, as local politicians occasionally used his muscle to secure election funding and terrorize their opponents. For several years, Ketty Alam Khan served as his sanctuary—a stronghold from which his gang launched ruthless campaigns to hunt down and terrorize their rivals. Initially, local police claimed ignorance of these hideouts, though whether they genuinely didn’t know or simply feigned blindness remains a question. However, as the gang’s audacity grew, they began openly defying the system. Local authorities were reduced to toothless tigers, routinely inventing excuses to avoid a direct confrontation with Multoo and his men. The situation finally reached a boiling point when international observers arrived in the region to monitor forest conservation protocols, thrusting the lawless enclave into the global spotlight.
To ensure the delegation’s visit went smoothly, the district police chief leveraged a local politician’s influence to strike a peace pact with the gang. The deal was simple: let the visitors monitor the area without interference. But the fragile peace shattered when agitators fed Multoo a dangerous rumor—that the delegation’s true agenda was to plant live-streaming surveillance bugs to permanently wipe out the gang. Framed as an existential threat, Multoo was convinced that halting the foreign visit was their only chance at survival. As a de facto warlord notorious for high-profile murders, mass extortion, and rampant plunder—yet bizarrely romanticized by some and feared by all—Multoo rose to rally his men.
During his golden era of political and police favor, Multoo was the golden boy of a local politician, backed heavily by a political party. He even attempted a disastrous run for office. Later, he voluntarily surrendered to the police, did a stint in jail, and walked out seemingly reformed. But old habits die hard. Upon his release, Multoo plunged right back into crime, launching a brutal reign of terror. It got so bad that the police put a price on the heads of Multoo and his crew—though the bounty announcement was mostly a PR stunt meant to satisfy international human rights organizations.
As previously noted, Multoo was implicated in severe offenses including kidnapping, murder, and extortion. In a particularly brazen act, he abducted sitting judges. While law enforcement claimed that these hostages were rescued during a shootout with the gang, the judges’ own accounts contradicted this narrative. Media reports later revealed that the judges were actually released only after a substantial ransom was paid to Multoo and his associates.
The gang continued to roam unchecked, deepening their reign of terror and instilling fear in both the local population and the authorities. Desperate for safety, many residents abandoned their ancestral lands and homes permanently to seek new lives and employment elsewhere. A primary driver of this exodus was the urgent need to protect the honor of their daughters; Multoo would routinely demand a local girl’s hand in marriage for one of his gang members—a fate that meant virtual ruin for the young woman. Anyone who dared refuse faced brutal retaliation: their properties, livestock, and lands were seized, and unmarried women were forced into marriages with gang members. Adding insult to injury, local officials—including police, Tapedars, Bheldars, supervisors, Darogas, and forest officers—frequently attended these gang-arranged weddings. These officials even funded the musical nights and dance parties for the valima (reception) ceremonies, importing dancers from distant districts like Lahore, Lyallpur, Karachi, and Hyderabad.
These celebrations were further fueled by the heavy consumption of premium imported alcohol. The feasts were exceptionally lavish, featuring menus stocked with hunted deer, partridges (pharas), goats, sheep, dumbas (fat-tailed sheep), bulls, and an array of wild birds. Special hunting expeditions were launched across the region specifically to harvest these animals and migratory birds for the feasts. To fund these extravagant weddings—largely bankrolled by local officials—the gang ruthlessly clear-cut state forests to generate quick revenue. This rampant, illegal logging went entirely unchecked; due to the gang’s terrifying influence, no one dared to intervene. Local officials tacitly approved the destruction, keeping silent about the devastating environmental consequences. Furthermore, crucial tree-planting initiatives in the kacha (riverbed) areas during the Abkalani (flood) season ground to a halt, as the gang forbade any cultivation without their explicit permission. Asserting their de facto authority, they openly mocked forest officials who begged to plant saplings. While cultivating these saplings is vital for stabilizing catchment areas and acting as a natural buffer against floods, the gang’s defiance ultimately paved the way for future floodwaters to breach the pakka (embankment) areas, threatening the lives and properties of local residents. The unrestricted deforestation persisted without administrative oversight, eventually escalating to an alarming level. Although regulatory authorities were fully cognizant of the hazardous long-term consequences, intimidation by the gang—coupled with financial complicity through a share of the logging revenue—ensured their silence. Consequently, the forest cover in the kacha zones was severely depleted. This ecological degradation quickly triggered severe environmental repercussions, culminating in devastating seasonal floods. (to be continued)…………….
