Imran Khan is in a Pakistan ‘death cell’ and the cricketing world is silent
For a man who was still his country’s prime minister four years ago, life today in Pakistan could hardly be more desolate for Imran Khan. Languishing in Rawalpindi’s Adiala prison, the 73-year-old cricket icon has, according to information shared with the United Nations, been spending 22 hours a day in solitary confinement, with his cell under constant surveillance. Even minimal family visits are understood to be denied, with his country’s military apparently hell-bent on snuffing out his last vestige of resistance. “It’s psychological torture that they’re employing to try to break him,” says his son, Kasim. “But he’s very, very tough to break.”
Kasim and Sulaiman, Khan’s two boys with his first wife Jemima Goldsmith, are at their wits’ end in pursuing a solution to a nightmare that has been deepening over 2½ years. This week marks the nadir, with an inflammatory social media post dictated by Khan about Asim Munir, the army’s chief of staff – a man whom he accused of “moral degradation” – offering a pretext to strip him of all rights and dignity. Worse, his legal jeopardy is acute, with his 14-year sentence for corruption, based on what he claims is a politically motivated thirst for vengeance, complicated by the constant addition of fresh charges. The family fears that there is no way out.
There are over 200 cases,” Kasim explains. “Each time one case is overturned, two or three are put on him. It’s just a way to delay any resolution.” The prison conditions, Sulaiman indicates, are almost beyond endurance. “He’s in a very small cell, which has been described as a ‘death cell’, because this is where they’ve held people who are on death row. Sometimes the electricity is cut off. Sometimes he won’t be allowed reading materials.”
“The water that he showers in is not just dirty, but discoloured,” Kasim says. “A dozen prisoners in that jail have died of hepatitis, and all of them were supporters of PTI, his political party.” The prison’s superintendent insists that anybody carrying an infectious disease is isolated from other inmates. But a report by Alice Jill Edwards, the UN’s special rapporteur, paints the bleakest picture, with Khan’s cell described as small, poorly ventilated, lacking in natural light, with extreme temperatures and insect infestations leading to nausea and weight loss.
How ever did we reach this point? We are talking, after all, about an emblematic figure in Pakistan’s history, one of the most sophisticated all-rounders that cricket has produced and the architect of his nation’s solitary 50-over World Cup triumph in 1992. In that tournament, he famously exhorted his players to “fight like cornered tigers”, even wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the animal to emphasise his defiance.
His cultured image as a player was matched by his flamboyance beyond the boundary, with his single status and fondness for London’s Tramp nightclub making him a fixture of Nineties gossip columns. Johnny Gold, the club’s owner, likened his effect on women to that of George Best. “No man,” said the model Marie Helvin, “was as devastating as Imran.”
Jemima, the then 21-year-old heiress whom he married in 1995, was devoted to him. For all the intense scrutiny on the couple’s cultural differences and 22-year age gap, she said after the marriage: “Without in any way wishing to disparage the culture of the Western world, into which I was born, I am more than willing to forgo the transient pleasures derived from alcohol and nightclubs.” Despite the sadness of their divorce in 2004, her concern for his condition, and for the agony his incarceration has inflicted on their two sons, remains acute. Just this weekend, she has written to Elon Musk to urge him to stop suppressing posts on X about Khan, alleging the company was guilty of “secret throttling”.
She’s definitely concerned for us,” says Kasim, the younger brother at 26. “She knows how important he is to us. He’s not an estranged father at all. We grew up with him our entire lives, throughout our childhood. He would come to stay with us in Richmond, every single major holiday and some half-terms. We were constantly with him. It’s very difficult for her to watch her sons going through this.”
Both he and Sulaiman, three years Kasim’s senior, are hopeful that speaking to The Telegraph will help sharpen the public consciousness of Khan’s plight. At times, their lobbying on his behalf can feel futile. With cricket seldom in such an international spotlight as midway through an Ashes series, what better time could there be to highlight the desperate struggle of one of the sport’s enduring idols against the oppressions of the Pakistani state? And yet you look in vain for an official statement anywhere, even from England or Australia – never mind the Indian-dominated International Cricket Council, in whose hall of fame Khan sits.
Full read:
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/cricket/2025/12/14/imran-khan-pakistan-death-cell-world-silent/
