The Ghost of Chicken Man — A Tale of Threats, Halloween Politics, Satire, and Nightmares.
By: Raja Zahid Akhtar Khanzada
As autumn sweeps through the United States, the air grows colder, pumpkins glow in suburban porches, and Halloween draws near, a night of masks, mischief, and monsters. But this year, the Pakistani-American community in Texas has added a unique twist to the festivities: a political costume that blends satire, fear, and farce into one hilarious creation.
In Texas, a few supporters of Imran Khan’s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) designed a new Halloween costume. When it was shared with me, my first thought was “This looks like a political werewolf!” The irony, however, ran deeper: the mask bore a striking resemblance to a real-life character from Texas who, months ago, had flown to Pakistan to meet Khan in jail.
His mission, he claimed, was to “intimidate and deliver a message.” But the outcome was comic gold, as soon as Imran Khan saw him, he reportedly refused to meet. It was as if the former prime minister had slammed the door shut saying, “Not today, Satan!”
The story, of course, didn’t end there.
This self-declared political messenger later boasted to his followers that he had told Khan inside the jail:
“You cannot leave without my permission!”
The line was so melodramatic it could’ve used a thunder sound effect in the background. But the only thing that thundered that day was the rickety ceiling fan in Khan’s cell — creaking every few seconds as if whispering, “Calm down, buddy, this isn’t a movie set.”
Now, PTI supporters in the U.S. have turned that episode into a Halloween parody.
Just as Pakistanis back home turn pumpkins into sweet halwa, the diaspora has turned this man into a viral dessert, mocking him online, trolling him on social media, and even creating a “Chicken Man” costume in his honor.
He is portrayed as a ghost who claims “political importance” but in reality is nothing more than a melting mask under the Texas heat. People laugh at him, post memes, and say:
“That’s the same guy who went to scare Imran Khan — but ended up scaring himself!”
In truth, this Halloween isn’t merely a night of horror it’s a night of satire and reflection.
It reminds us that in politics, the most dangerous thing isn’t malice it’s ignorance with confidence.
This man, who once fried chicken in California, now parades himself as a “hero of fear.”
He boasts of sudden wealth, manipulates others’ overtime, and pretends to wield influence. In Pakistan, he distributes envelopes to friendly journalists; in America, he threatens to drag critics to court.
Yet, in the grand stage of history, he is nothing more than a cartoon character loud, inflated, and irrelevant.
And so, under the Texas night sky,
where pumpkins glow and a ghost in a chicken hat grins mischievously,
the air itself seems to whisper:
“Don’t be afraid — this isn’t politics. It’s just the ghost of satire.”
If the spirit of Halloween ever needed a Pakistani shade,
it would look exactly like this —
where humor, politics, and philosophy hide beneath the same mask,
and the people, through laughter, finally understand:
True fear does not live behind the mask,
it begins the moment someone dares to speak the truth.
