In the small village of Koiyaan, tucked away in the rugged hills near Khai Gulla in Pakistan-administered Jammu and Kashmir, something unusual happened this week—something that’s been long overdue, according to locals.
On Wednesday, a commander of a banned militant outfit, along with his armed associates, was publicly confronted and driven out by angry villagers. The confrontation came during the funeral prayers held in absentia for Habib Tahir, a young man from Koiyaan who was reportedly killed by Indian forces after being sent across the Line of Control (LoC) by the militant group Jamaat-ud-Dawa.
What was meant to be a solemn moment of mourning quickly turned into a dramatic stand-off. Despite being told by the family to stay away, Rizwan Hanif—a known local commander operating under the political cover of the “United Movement”—showed up with his brothers, nephew, and armed guards. Emotions were already running high, and the presence of men with guns only added fuel to the fire.
When Habib’s family began questioning Hanif about the group's role in recruiting their son, things escalated fast. According to eyewitnesses, Hanif’s nephew tried to intimidate the family by drawing a weapon. But instead of backing down, the villagers stood their ground. Several of Habib’s relatives physically confronted the gunmen, and chaos broke out. In the end, Hanif and his men were chased out of the village—literally. Locals say people ran after them, shouting them down as they fled.
This isn’t the first time villagers in the region have reacted this way. Back in April, in Barmang village, a similar scene unfolded during the funeral of another youth killed across the LoC. The community, once silent or resigned, is now starting to speak out—and act.
Locals are also planning a traditional jirga (community meeting) in the coming days to discuss how to deal with the growing presence and influence of armed groups in their area. Many feel it’s time to reclaim control over their villages and protect their youth from being exploited.
“The truth is, people are fed up,” said one elder from Koiyaan who asked not to be named. “We’ve lost too many sons to this madness. Enough is enough.”
Habib Tahir’s story is, unfortunately, not unique. Like many before him, he was reportedly recruited by Jamaat-ud-Dawa, trained, and sent across the LoC, only to be killed far from home in a conflict not of his own making. His family, devastated and angry, barred the group from attending his funeral—and that decision sparked a much bigger moment.
What’s also becoming clearer is a change in how authorities are handling these groups. Just last week, a planned militant gathering in the Bagh District was shut down by local officials using Section 144 to block the event. It’s a small step, but in a region where banned groups have long operated openly, it matters.
In the past couple of years, these groups had started making a comeback, with support—silent or otherwise—from powerful quarters. But things seem to be shifting. With India-Pakistan tensions flaring again, the public space for these organizations is shrinking. They’re being forced to operate more quietly, avoiding cameras and publicity.
But for many in places like Koiyaan, that’s not enough.
People are demanding a complete break from the old playbook—a total ban on groups that recruit and radicalize youth, that run training centers under various guises, and that continue to fuel a war that has brought only suffering to their doorstep.
“This is not a jihad,” said a young resident of Koiyaan. “This is just using poor boys as cannon fodder for someone else’s game.”
The people of Koiyaan have made their stand. Whether anyone in power is truly listening remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: the silence is breaking, and the ground beneath these militant networks may finally be starting to shift.
