Quetta, a city in Pakistan’s Balochistan province, is a bustling yet close-knit society cradled by rugged, rocky, grey mountains. There’s an old-world charm in its winding alleys and historic yet simple markets, a warmth in the way neighbors greet each other, and a dry yet soothing air that carries the scent of dust and earth. Every road presents a living tapestry of movement and life—cars weaving past high-roof jeeps; pushcarts brimming with fresh, juicy seasonal fruits and vegetables; and a slow-moving herd of sheep and shepherds strolling along the roadside, unhurried and unbothered. Along with tradition and culture, it is a community where patriarchy is the norm.
On my last visit to this city, I met Bilal Khan, a 35-year-old community social mobilizer trained by Jhpiego Pakistan to deliver men’s engagement intervention. We decided to chat under a shaded Deodar cedar. Bilal’s roots are as deep as the tree we sat under—his grandparents were among the early families who settled in Quetta. He is married and has a son.
After completing his degree in commerce in Balochistan, Bilal spent his first professional years in the pharmaceutical sector, specializing in eye care. He learned valuable lessons like how to communicate with precision, win trust, build relationships, and even launch new products with confidence. He honed his outreach and relationship-building skills while deepening his understanding of the health needs of the community.
Then came the turning point. In November 2024, the Organization for Community Services and Development (OCSD), a local civil society organization (CSO), was recruiting male mobilizers for a Jhpiego-led and Gavi-supported Men’s Engagement Project. Bilal applied and was selected.
“My career took a new turn. I found my true calling working directly with communities, engaging men to actively participate in improving family health, and supporting positive change in society.” - Bilal Khan
But he wasn’t just working with men to help them understand their role in family health. His perspective of what it means to be a man was changing too. "Before this project, I was like many other men in my neighborhood,” he said. “I worked long hours, came home tired, and barely spoke to my children. My wife managed everything at home—the cooking, cleaning, and children’s studies. I thought that’s how it was supposed to be." He then smiled and added, “This work has allowed me to witness transformations at both a personal and community level.”
He recalled a specific incident that changed his outlook on “manhood.” One of the sessions in the curriculum was titled “Caring for a Baby.” It involved role play and simulation, where the facilitator had to hold a two-foot doll and demonstrate caregiving tasks in front of 10 to 12 male caregivers seated in a circle. Representing a range of ages and backgrounds, the men in Bilal’s circle communicated in Balochi, Farsi (Persian), and Pashto. Their professions were varied, encompassing laborers, shopkeepers, vegetable vendors, a pharmacy employee, and a taxi driver, among others. They were all fathers, averaging five to six children each.
"I was nervous that day," Bilal said. "I was sweating, full of anxiety. I kept wondering, ‘When I reveal this doll, how will they react? Will they take it seriously?’”
Sure enough, as soon as he brought out the doll, the men began laughing. Some teased him openly: “What are you doing? Why are you holding a baby doll? You don’t look good holding that thing.”
In that moment, Bilal could have stepped back. But instead, he found a new surge of confidence. Standing taller, his voice firm, he addressed the group. "Imagine this doll is your newborn. It’s two in the morning. Your wife, who worked all day, fed the baby, and did the house chores, is exhausted and finally asleep. The baby is crying because it needs to be fed again or changed. Will you not hold your baby? How will you hold them?"
The group fell silent. Then, in low voices, some whispered, “He’s right… after all, it’s our baby.”
That’s when Bilal knew he had their attention. “I continued the session, and they enjoyed it,” he said. “They learned something that day. You see, it’s not about holding a toy doll. It’s about the perception in this community that caregiving is only for women. That’s what I wanted to challenge."
By the end of the session, each participant, even the most reluctant, had taken a turn holding the doll and practicing the role play. There was still laughter, still a bit of shyness, but the exercise had planted a seed.
"Now," Bilal said with a proud smile, "I help my kids with homework. I cook sometimes. Most importantly, I listen. And when I speak to other fathers, I tell them this: this is not weakness. This is love. This is strength."
As we sat under the tree, it became clear to me that Bilal had undergone a shift not just in behavior but in identity. He no longer saw himself as a mobilizer. He had become a role model in his community, a man willing to guide others into conversations that had long been considered taboo. Now, he leads discussions with fathers about emotional well-being, caregiving, and mutual respect in marriage, and about being a supportive partner.
Some traditions and cultural habits run so deep that no one questions them, even when they quietly turn into harmful gender norms. Bilal’s story is proof of the quiet but powerful ripple that male engagement can create. This kind of work is not only feasible but truly welcomed in communities like Quetta, which has been untapped for a long time.
The most significant shifts in society don’t always start with big speeches or sweeping reforms. They start small—with moments like a father sitting beside his daughter, helping her with her homework, or tucking her into bed at night. And even in the most traditional, most feudal corners of communities, change can happen because every town has a Bilal who can ignite positive change from within.
In Pakistan, traditional roles often sideline fathers in caregiving, as societal norms discourage men from engaging in what is seen as “women’s work.” To bridge this gap, Jhpiego Pakistan and Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance, piloted an operations research project to test the feasibility of engaging men as caregivers in child health and immunization through a gender-transformative approach. Adapted from the Bandebereho model in Rwanda and contextualized for Pakistan, the Men’s Engagement intervention invited fathers to participate in 8–10 community group sessions conducted within their own neighborhoods. These participatory sessions positioned fathers as role models not only to lead but also to nurture, bringing male caregivers together to listen, share, and engage in meaningful dialogue. The goal was to challenge harmful masculine norms that limit men’s roles as caregivers and to encourage reflection on how they could contribute positively within their families. Through these discussions, men learned about areas of maternal and child health, including reproductive health, care during pregnancy, safe delivery, immunization, family planning, conflict resolution, household task sharing, gender-based violence, and couple communication. Central to this approach were social mobilizers from grassroots civil society organizations, who themselves were parents and caregivers, making it easier to connect with male participants and encourage meaningful engagement.
Fahad Abbasi is a Technical Advisor for Gender and Research in Jhpiego's Pakistan Office.
Carol Ajema is the Senior Technical Advisor for Gender Equity at Jhpiego.
