There was a time—not long ago—when words like “activist” and “voice of the people” carried genuine, dignified weight. Those who stood up against injustice and spoke uncomfortable truths were admired, respected, and believed. But now, we find ourselves in a very different place—somewhere between disappointment and disbelief. Somewhere we never thought we’d be.
What began as an earnest-sounding campaign for justice has turned into a theater of disgrace. Those once associated with change, accountability, and community advocacy are now at the center of a storm—not because of their ideas or causes, but due to leaked obscene videos, accusations, counter-accusations, and the kind of public mudslinging that leaves no one clean.
It’s ugly. It’s exhausting. And it’s happening right in front of us—uncensored, unfiltered, and unforgiving.
As these individuals trade allegations and videos, the rest of us sit silently in our homes, on our phones, watching the unraveling. Something that once felt like hope now tastes bitter. It’s no longer about who’s right or wrong—it’s about how something so seemingly noble could fall so low.
What unsettles me even more is what we’re learning along the way. This isn’t just about egos or pride. It points to a darker, more disturbing undercurrent in our society. There are whispers—and, in some cases, loud claims—that a new form of digital blackmail is surfacing in the valley. Young women allegedly luring boys into private chats or video calls, then demanding money for silence. Shame as currency. Trust as a weapon.
What a terrifying place to be in—a world where your private words and most vulnerable moments can be turned against you. A world where love, affection, or even simple companionship might cost you everything—your peace, your name, your future.
It makes me wonder: where are our laws? Where is our sense of morality? These actions aren’t just illegal—they’re inhuman. Yet, they happen. They circulate. They trend. And somehow, no one is held accountable.
There is something profoundly broken here—not just in the system, but in us. The very people who were supposed to lead from the front have gotten lost in the spectacle. Their causes are buried under clicks and clout, their voices drowned in the noise they helped create.
The greatest tragedy in all of this is what we lose in the process: trust. Because when even activists aren’t safe from scandal, who do we believe anymore? Who do we follow when every leader is just a few screenshots away from disgrace?
We’ve blurred the lines between public and private so badly that no one knows where dignity lives anymore. We scroll past someone’s worst moment and forget it was never meant for public eyes. We amplify disgrace without thinking of the scars it leaves behind.
And here’s the honest truth—we’re all tired. Tired of drama parading as revolution. Tired of fake reformers who are louder than they are real. Tired of being told to believe in movements that collapse under the weight of their own hypocrisy.
We must remember why activism exists. It’s supposed to heal, not hurt. To build, not burn. It’s about standing up for something—not tearing others down to stand taller yourself.
I don’t know who’s telling the truth. I don’t know the authenticity of those videos, and frankly, I don’t care to know anymore. I don’t know who is right, who is wrong, or what led them to this point. But what I do know—what I feel deeply—is that this is not the way. Not for justice. Not for change. Not for anyone.
We must be better than this. And it begins with a choice—to stop feeding the circus, to stop treating people’s private pain as public entertainment, and to choose truth over trend, dignity over drama.
Because if we don’t, soon there’ll be nothing left to believe in—not even ourselves.
About the Author
Ikkz Ikbal holds a Master’s degree in Biotechnology and serves as Principal at Maryam Memorial Institute, Pandithpora Qaziabad. He posts on X @IkkzIkbal.
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