The fragile state of freedom!

FOR a country where nearly two-thirds of the population is under the age of 30, the true meaning of freedom cannot be confined to the ballot box. To a generation raised in an era of rapid change, liberty is a daily, practical expectation. It means the ability to walk safely down a street, find gainful employment, express an opinion online without fear and experience a predictable legal system. Yet, a deep look into the structural reality of the country reveals a persistent gap between the grand promises written in the constitution and the actual, lived experiences of ordinary citizens. The most glaring of these challenges lies in the deep socio-economic exclusion of women. Despite various legislative updates over the years, female labour force participation remains stubbornly low at just 20 to 25 per cent, compared to over 65 percent for men. A vast majority of women are trapped in an unregulated informal economy like working in agriculture, handicrafts and caregiving, where their financial contributions are invisible and entirely unrecorded. This structural exclusion is worsened by a widening digital divide. While digital financial tools are expanding, women are 20 percent less likely than men to own a Smartphone, severely cutting off their access to modern economic opportunities. Furthermore, a severe drop-out rate sees female school enrollment plunge from 69 percent at the primary level to just 21 percent in higher education, driven by poverty, safety concerns and early marriages. Simultaneously, the digital landscape has become the primary arena for public life. With over 145 million broadband subscribers, digital platforms have completely bypassed traditional television and print media as the primary source of news and civic engagement. Yet, this hyper-connected society faces intense digital governance pressures. The state’s aggressive push to restrict online accounts and content under the banner of cybersecurity often directly collides with free expression. Re