Key Points
- Balochistan’s RTI law remains largely ineffective despite being passed in 2021.
- The law mandates an Information Commission comprising four commissioners.
- Only two commissioners were appointed, leaving the commission incomplete.
- The commission was established years after its statutory 120-day deadline.
- Commissioners operated seven months without a dedicated office.
- The commission eventually received just one room inside DGPR offices.
- Only 20–25 percent of proactive information is reportedly disclosed.
- Just 25–30 percent of departments have designated information officers.
- The commission has received over 100 complaints and disposed of around 50.
- The commission received approximately Rs100 million across different budgetary heads.
- Weak RTI enforcement limits scrutiny of billions in public spending.
QUETTA, Pakistan: In early February 2021, the Balochistan Assembly passed the Balochistan Right to Information Act amid public acclaim.
Provincial officials posed for photographs, civil society activists applauded, and the resource-rich but chronically underdeveloped province finally caught up with Punjab, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Sindh, and the federal government in the global movement for open governance. It was brought into force on February 15, 2026.
More than five years later, the law exists only as a dead letter. Its promises remain unfulfilled; machinery unbuilt; and the citizens remain in the dark.
Pakistan broke new ground in South Asia by enacting the Freedom of Information Ordinance in 2002. Notably, the Freedom of Information Ordinance 2002 was primarily promulgated by then-President Pervez Musharraf under the influence and structural adjustment conditions of the Asian Development Bank (ADB) as part of good governance, transparency, and public sector reform agendas tied to international financial assistance.
“After the commission was established, we did not get an office for seven months.” – Abdul Shakoor, Information Commissioner
Balochistan itself passed an earlier version — the Balochistan Freedom of Information Act — in 2005. However, legal experts have long categorised that as a “first-generation” law: weak on penalties, devoid of enforcement mechanisms, and largely ineffective.
After years of persistent advocacy by civil society, Balochistan finally graduated to a “second-generation” framework in 2021. The new Act promised substantive reforms: financial penalties for obstructing information, mandatory proactive disclosure of government records, an overriding effect over conflicting secrecy laws, and, most importantly, the right of citizens to access public records.
Yet today, the people who were meant to benefit from this landmark legislation describe a system that functions only on paper.
The Commission that never was
Under the 2021 RTI Act, the Balochistan Information Commission was mandated to be formed within 120 days. It was to comprise four commissioners, including a chief information commissioner. That statutory deadline has long since gone up in smoke.
Behram Lehri, a Quetta-based RTI activist and social worker who helped lead the movement to pass the legislation, recalls the optimism of 2021 and the disappointment that followed.
“Balochistan was the first province to enact freedom of information legislation back in 2005. But due to loopholes, the province had to start from scratch and build a proper second-generation law,” he tells WE News English.
Other provinces, he adds, had already enacted theirs, and when they saw their success stories. Buoyed by their success stories, Lehri and other activists started a movement in 2019. “We created a network of like-minded people; started advocacy and campaigns; engaged lawmakers; and successfully got this Act passed in 2021,” Lehri says.
“Departments are reluctant to share the information requested by journalists, especially regarding financial matters.” – Manzoor Ahmed, Balochistan Union of Journalists
But the legislative victory was hollowed out by administrative paralysis, turning a landmark legal achievement into a paper promise.
“Section 18 of the Act provides that within 120 days, the Commission should have been formed with five commissioners, including the chief information commissioner, and Public Information Officers shall be appointed.”
However, he explains, due to red tape, the commission was formed in 2025 with only two commissioners, both on the MP-II scale. They were given just a single room within the Directorate General of Public Relations office in Quetta. It is still not fully functional, leaving the province’s transparency watchdog struggling to get off the ground.
Behram Baloch, another RTI activist and trainer, offers an even starker assessment.
“The RTI law is not functional in Balochistan. Government departments are required to nominate Public Information Officers, but here, they are few, if any. The commission itself cannot be called functional. The law says RTI requests should be addressed within 15 working days, but nothing of that sort is happening.”
Baloch highlights how far behind the province has fallen compared to its neighbours.
“By 2025, RTI commissions in other provinces have completed three full terms. In Balochistan, however, the commission itself has not even been completed yet. Civil society and journalists believe the Balochistan government does not want to fully activate the commission because corruption is widespread, and they want to keep it hidden.”
A system broken from within
Abdul Shakoor, who has served as Information Commissioner for the past 15 months, confirms the administrative dysfunction from within the Commission.
“After the commission was established, we did not get an office for seven months. We were eventually accommodated in the DGPR office, and for the last eight to nine months, we have been handling cases from there.”
“To make the system more transparent, we need a cultural shift.” – Imran Khan, Secretary Information, Balochistan
It would be pertinent to mention here that the Act requires a quorum of two commissioners for the Commission to function. Therefore, since both commissioners have been appointed, the Commission has started functioning and is considered operational. However, until all members are on board, it cannot operate at full throttle.
Shakoor highlights two critical provisions of the law that remain largely unimplemented.
“Section 5 of the Act deals with proactive disclosure. Government departments are required to disclose public information on their websites and portals. We are trying to get them to comply; we have sent notices and letters but the compliance ratio has not been appreciable.”
Section 6, he elaborates, deals with the appointment of Public Information Officers. We have been continuously reminding the departments, but again, the compliance is not appreciable.
Transparency by inches
Shakoor does not mince his words when it comes to statistics.
“Currently, there is only 20 to 25 per cent proactive disclosure. Only 25 to 30 per cent of departments have designated Public Information Officers.”
Perhaps his most striking admission concerns his own commission’s inability to enforce the law.
“We’ve the mandate to impose penalties, but for now, we are being lenient and are not looking to create trouble for our public bodies.”
He says that the Commission is strapped for resources — human resources, administrative support, operational costs, and its own building.
“To date, we have received over 100 complaints and have disposed of around 50. There was no budget allocated for us previously, but this time, there is an allocation from different heads — for stationery, salaries, a few posts, and so on.”
The Commission has been allocated a budget of approximately Rs100 million under different heads. Of this amount, around Rs36 million has been allocated for the rent of the building. Other budgetary heads include stationery, medical expenses, maintenance and other operational expenditures. Other provinces have one-line budgets, which provide a department or institution with a single, lump-sum allocation of funds, granting managers the flexibility to spend internally without itemised micro-management. In Balochistan, however, the commission’s funding remains divided across multiple heads, further complicating its ability to operate efficiently.
The journalists’ wall of silence
For journalists in Balochistan, the failure of the RTI system is not an abstract legal concern — it is a professional crisis.
Balochistan Union of Journalists President Manzoor Ahmed has watched his colleagues struggle against bureaucratic stonewalling for years.
“Departments are reluctant to share the information requested by journalists, especially regarding financial matters. This is why I believe the RTI is not yet fully functional.”
Regarding the appointment of Public Information Officers, he adds, “We’ve learned that in many cases, retired individuals were placed in these positions, or in other cases, they were assigned this task as a parallel duty alongside other jobs.”
Despite the government’s public claims of reform, Ahmed sees a glaring disconnect between rhetoric and reality. The current government claims to uphold meritocracy in hiring and postings and talks about digitisation and transparency; however, information is still not completely available, he complains. “Without that, you cannot call the system completely transparent. True transparency is only possible through the proper implementation of the RTI Act.”
The government’s defence
Imran Khan, Secretary of Information for the Government of Balochistan, acknowledges the delays but frames them as procedural hurdles rather than wilful obstruction.
“When I took on this post, the RTI law had already been passed. According to the law, the commission was supposed to be formed within 120 days, so we suggested some names. However, the Services and General Administration Department raised objections, stating that rules needed to be framed to make the appointment process fairer and more transparent.”
He admits that when he returned for his second tenure, there had been no progress. The government subsequently framed rules, interviewed candidates, and appointed two commissioners. But the process stalled again.
“In a cabinet meeting, we were told that an amendment was required because the commission was still not complete — only two members had been appointed. The amendment related to eligibility criteria. So, we prepared the amendments and sent a summary to the Chief Minister, which the cabinet approved. However, some objections were raised in the assembly, so it came back to us.”
He goes on to state that they prepared the summary again, sent it back to the Chief Minister with the amendments, and it was once again approved by the cabinet. It will be presented in the assembly soon. “The process will be cleared through September and October, and after that, the commission will be completed.”
On the question of bureaucratic resistance, Khan points to deeper cultural issues rather than systemic malice. To make the system more transparent, we need a cultural shift, he says. The cost of darkness
The gap between official assurances and ground reality remains wide. The 2021 Act was designed to serve as a powerful tool for citizens to scrutinise public spending.
Instead, as activists and journalists have repeatedly documented, the absence of Public Information Officers, the incomplete commission, the lack of resources, and the bureaucratic “cultural shift” that remains perpetually pending have created a system where information is treated as a privilege, not a right.
The implications extend far beyond administrative inconvenience. Balochistan receives billions of rupees annually in federal transfers and international aid for development — roads, schools, dams, hospitals. Without functional RTI mechanisms, citizens cannot verify whether these funds reach their intended destinations. Contractors cannot be held accountable. Ghost employees cannot be identified. Inflated procurement costs cannot be challenged.
In the absence of effective oversight, the paper trail goes cold, public money disappears from view, and accountability remains a promise waiting to be fulfilled.
