By Khalid Khan
Peshawar, Pakistan: In the heart of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, a scandal is unraveling—one that reeks of corruption, secrecy, and a deliberate effort to keep millions hidden from government scrutiny.
The very institution tasked with promoting tourism has instead become a breeding ground for financial mismanagement, where bank accounts have been concealed, funds remain untraceable, and authorities are left grasping at straws.
The story begins in 2019 when the KP government, in a bid to streamline its tourism sector, merged several departments into a single entity—the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Culture and Tourism Authority. The Directorate of Tourist Services (DTS), along with other bodies, was ordered to hand over its assets, accounts, and financial records. Some complied, but the DTS resisted.
For years, the DTS operated in a grey zone, collecting hefty security deposits from travel agencies—ranging from two to four lakh rupees per agency—but keeping their accounts shrouded in secrecy. It maintained three hidden bank accounts in Muslim Commercial Bank (MCB), Habib Bank Limited (HBL), and the now-defunct SME Bank, without the mandatory No Objection Certificate (NOC) from the provincial finance department. Meanwhile, another account in the Bank of Khyber (BoK) did receive official approval, but the real problem lay elsewhere.
By 2021, an alarming discovery shocked the newly formed Tourism Authority. The provincial Accountant General’s office flagged the existence of three undisclosed bank accounts linked to DTS, holding an estimated over 500 million rupees—money that had continued earning interest while the department played dumb. The revelation sent shockwaves through the tourism sector, raising serious questions: Who controlled these funds? Where was the interest money going? And why had these accounts been kept off the books?
Efforts to bring the money under government control faced an immediate blockade. The Tourism Authority wrote to the banks, demanding a freeze on withdrawals. The Bank of Khyber complied, but MCB and HBL refused. Further attempts to change account signatories were ignored. Meanwhile, when SME Bank was shut down, DTS quietly transferred Rs. 334 million from its account there to MCB, further muddying the waters.
Then came the legal battles. DTS employees, refusing to be absorbed into the Tourism Authority, ran to the courts, claiming civil servant status to avoid accountability. Their legal maneuvers stalled the transfer of assets, allowing them to maintain their grip on financial records. A similar ploy was used by employees of the Pak-Australian Institute of Hotel Training, who also resisted integration into the Authority, ensuring that key financial records remained inaccessible.
At the center of this mess sits a bureaucracy riddled with incompetence and complicity. The Directorate of Tourist Services, which was originally established to regulate hotels, tour operators, and travel agencies, instead became a financial black hole, where millions vanished into a tangle of undisclosed transactions and stonewalled audits. The Authority, despite knowing about the hidden accounts since 2021, failed to take decisive action, leaving the money in limbo.
When confronted, the Additional Director General of DTS, Rabbi, defended the secrecy, arguing that travel agents’ deposits were not public funds and therefore didn’t require government approval. He also revealed that Rs. 70 million from this fund had been used in 2007 to purchase an 8-kanal plot on Peshawar’s GT Road, a property that has since skyrocketed in value but remains under dispute. He insisted that records exist, yet multiple banking irregularities suggest otherwise.
On the other side, the Director General of the Culture and Tourism Authority, Tashfeen Haider, painted a grim picture. According to him, the Rs. 500 million estimate is just the beginning. He believes that hidden within the system, across multiple accounts, lie hundreds of millions more, unaccounted for and potentially misappropriated. To uncover the truth, the Authority has now requested a forensic audit from the Accountant General’s office—an effort that may finally expose the full extent of financial malpractice.
What happened in KP’s tourism department is not just a case of poor governance; it is a glaring example of how bureaucratic maneuvering and legal loopholes allow corruption to thrive. While the province’s scenic valleys and historic sites attract visitors from around the world, the money meant to promote tourism has been hoarded in secret accounts, benefiting a select few while the sector struggles.
With the matter now reaching higher authorities, the coming months will determine whether KP’s government has the will to hold its own officials accountable—or if this, like countless other scandals, will be buried under bureaucratic red tape.
