The future of traditional medicine and its practitioners in Pakistan hangs in the balance, leaving many with a sense of uncertainty and concern. This story delves into the potential impact of a proposed government merger, which could disrupt an entire sector and the lives of thousands.
A Cloud of Uncertainty
Arsalan Ali, a dedicated student of traditional healing, finds himself in a predicament. As he pursues his Fazil-i-Tibb-wal-Jarahat qualification, he questions whether his chosen path will even exist by the time he graduates. Ali, a former pharmaceutical chemist, made a conscious decision to embrace traditional medicine, seeking a more holistic approach to healing.
But here's where it gets controversial...
The government's recent instructions to colleges have sparked fears of an impending closure. The proposed merger of the National Council for Tibb and the National Council for Homoeopathy threatens to erase decades of traditional healing practices and leave practitioners, especially those serving rural communities, without legal recognition.
Professor Imran Lodhi, principal of Ajmal Tibbia College, highlights the distinct legal and educational framework of traditional medicine, which is at risk of being overshadowed by this merger.
"There are three main types of healthcare practitioners in Pakistan: allopathic, homoeopathic, and hikmat. Each operates under its own regulatory system, with the latter two governed by the Unani, Ayurvedic, and Homoeopathic Practitioners Act of 1965."
And this is the part most people miss...
The proposed changes are driven by broader fiscal reforms, with the government aiming to 'right-size' its regulatory bodies. However, practitioners argue that this decision could result in the loss of livelihoods for over 70,000 hakeems and the closure of all 40 tibb colleges across the country.
Hakeem Muhammad Sajjad, General Secretary of the Pakistan Tibbi Alliance, has raised these concerns with the health and law ministries. He warns that the draft legislation, titled the National Traditional and Complementary Medicine Act, 2025, contains gaps that could dismantle the entire sector.
"The financial burden of these councils is minimal for the government. Why merge them when they are already functioning well?" asks Hakeem Sajjad.
But the health ministry maintains that the process is consultative, aiming to improve standards.
For students like Sameera Kamran and Ijaz Ahmed, the anxiety is palpable. They enrolled in tibb colleges believing it offered an affordable path to healthcare, especially for those from lower-middle-income backgrounds. Now, they fear that their dreams of becoming tabeebs may be shattered.
"Tibb colleges provided an accessible route to healthcare, with annual fees significantly lower than medical universities. The government's move will make it nearly impossible for many families to pursue hikmat," says Ijaz.
And rural healthcare? It's at risk too, they argue. With a lack of doctors in basic health units, hakeems have been providing essential treatment to rural communities.
For patients like Awais Siddique, traditional medicine has been a lifeline. After exhausting hospital options, he turned to a hakeem for his wife's treatment, and the results were remarkable.
"The hakeem's treatment brought lasting relief. My wife has been healthy for the last two and a half years," Siddique shares.
Amid the uncertainty, representatives of the Pakistan Medical Alliance met with government officials to discuss the survival of the Unani, Ayurvedic, and Homoeopathic Practitioners Act. Until a clear resolution emerges, students like Arsalan continue their studies, hoping that their chosen path will endure.
