Jami spoke to us about traversing a minefield of nuclear bombs, friends turning against you and how he is taking up a new cause after his release from prison: fighting for the rights of Pakistan’s film and TV crews . An issue that he believes is critical to the survival of the country’s creative industries.
Even after his days in prison, Jami is brimming with determination to change the world for the better.
“I’ve been trained to never give up,” he says.
This is a philosophy that has lost him friends and supporters but he continues to fight for what he believes to be right whether it is taking on sexual predators or questioning industry practices.
The case had split civil society after Jami was imprisoned for sharing information from an alleged victim accusing a well-known music video and TVC director. Groups like Aurat March backed him, stating that “Pakistan’s criminal defamation laws are a powerful tool to silence survivors of sexual violence and their allies,” while others claimed the unnamed victim had been exploited.
“These are laws made for men”
For the award-winning filmmaker, the fight is bigger than a single case. It is about what happens to victims when they speak up in Pakistan’s legal and cultural climate.
“We cannot send out the message that whenever you (a victim) come forward, you’ll be slaughtered,” he says. “I can’t go back because I know what victimhood is.”
Years of battling publicly and privately have left scars. Recently diagnosed with complex PTSD, Jami acknowledges the toll his relentless advocacy has taken.“My every instinct is very brutal now,” he admits, describing how constant fight mode has changed him.
“It bugs me that we may have lost the nazakat (delicacy) required for a case.”
A New Fight: Protecting Pakistan’s Film Crews
Now, Jami is directing that same unyielding energy toward another urgent cause: fighting for the rights of Pakistan’s film and TV crews, which he believes is critical for the survival of the country’s creative industries.
“Eight to nine crew members have died,” he says, explaining the toll of unfair, underpaid, and overworked conditions on set. Crew members often work 14- to 18-hour shifts for as little as PKR 2,500, go home for two hours, and return to set like machines. “We can’t call ourselves an industry if we treat our people like this.”
The pushback, Jami says, has been “insane,” particularly from the TV drama industry. “Our staff is below the poverty line as a standard rule,” he claims, pointing to the lack of safe practices on Pakistani sets. When asked about our “If Mehreen Jabbar and Mohammad Ahmed have dared to raise their voices, it is now vital for all of us to make a line and take a stand right there. Stop all work. We lack unity.” He points out that writers and directors are paid for their vision calling the system a “slaughterhouse”.
“They will hire students as….90% don’t dare about quality.”
For the first time, there is an organized push to demand structural change in an industry that runs on invisible, underpaid labor. Jami, alongside a team of lawyers, is demanding a minimum daily wage of PKR 5,000 for crew members—lighting boys, makeup artists, gaffers, drivers—alongside regulated working hours and transparent payment systems. Payment delays, which often stretch for months, leaving families in limbo, are also a priority for the movement.
Resistance has been fierce. Producers have threatened to blacklist crew members but the union already has 700 members.
This interview is part of DramaPakistani’s ongoing investigation into the hidden labor crisis behind Pakistan’s drama and film industry. Previously, directors Mehreen Jabbar and Mohammad Ahmed spoke to us about payment delays and the systemic issues that leave even top-tier professionals waiting for months. Jami joins the conversation, taking the issue further by calling for a minimum wage, regulated working hours, and collective action to protect the crews who keep the industry running.
Behind the Glamour, a Broken System: Pakistani Drama Professionals Speak Out
