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Citizens of Lyari: Bloodied, miserable and begging for mercy

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Ordinarily, Pakistan does not surprise me with the injustice that goes on in the country. I live in Karachi and am frighteningly used to instances of violence and bloodshed that the city is reputed for. The news, more or less every day, leaves me depressed, but for the past few days, my heart has been aching for what is going on in Karachi -- especially Lyari. In four days, Lyari has seen the concentrated essence of what we call ‘Karachi violence’. Four were dead as of June 10 and 18 had been injured even before the sun set. With a TV screen as the sole connection between Lyari and the rest of Karachi right now, it is becoming next to impossible to watch the news and believe that a part of this very city is suffering the most arid kind of negligence from the authorities. Yes, Rangers and the Sindh Police have not even penetrated the area fully. A “gang war” sprung between the Kutchi Rabita Committee (KRC) and a local rival group after a man called Arif Baloch was killed on Saturday in Kalri. The rival group claims that the KRC attacked Baloch. In reaction, “unidentified men” opened fire in Hingorabad, Lyari, injuring four KRC workers. The KRC denied the allegation of Baloch’s killing. This episode resulted in a series of cross-firing between the groups of Lyari. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="440" caption="Workers of Kachi Rabta Committee protesting against target killing in Lyari in Karachi. PHOTO: RASHID AJMERI"][/caption] The question here is who is really bearing the brunt of this clash the most? It is the innocent residents of Lyari, who are helpless as they watch their children traumatised by the deafening roars of gunshots. They have run out of food and have had to risk their lives to get flour and rice. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="440" caption="People standing near the chairs after bomb blast in Lyari Karachi. PHOTO: ASHRAF MEMON"][/caption] Residents of Lyari, teary-eyed as they spoke, told the media that they plan to relocate (like many others who have) and pleaded with the perpetrators to stop this madness. They claim that although seven Rangers pickets had been set by the peace committee in the area, there were no Rangers in sight to help stop the bloodshed. The residential buildings in Lyari are riddled with bullets. The walls, like the people, are brittle from being shot at and attacked by grenades. Children cannot go to school any more without risking their lives. Even during the elections, Lyari was given minimal to no coverage. It is a well-populated area and deserves as much efficiency of the media and law enforcement as anywhere else. Had Lyari been highlighted like NA-250, perhaps we’d have made worse discoveries about rigging and injustice than we did. Yesterday, one man died and 20 others were injured in Lyari. Thankfully, it earned some attention from Muttahida Quami Movement chief Altaf Hussain, who said that such activities are promoting hatred and that immediate action should be taken by the government. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="440" caption="People standing near the motor cycle which destroyed in bomb blast at Lyari Karachi. PHOTO: ASHRAF MEMON"][/caption] This area is a PPP stronghold and while PPP Sindh general secretary Taj Haider has condemned the attacks on civilians, I am sure the residents are looking forward to some action from them to put an end to their misery. Just using the word "condemn" to calm people down is not enough. In its tenure, the PPP should have cleaned up Lyari of its drug, guns and extortion mafia. This says a lot about what lengths parties can go to for votes -- what lenience they can exhibit for support. Let us not forget the rest of Karachi, which has been experiencing sporadic bursts of violence throughout it for the past half week. What have these people done to deserve this? Is this what Karachiites get for a political awakening? Does associating oneself with the ideology of a certain party deserve this blood-drenched fruition. Affiliation with a party is the midpoint in the process to realising one’s responsibilities as a citizen. Bullets are not what innocents deserve for living in a certain area where issues between parties and gangs cannot be sorted out. If grenades keep exploding and gunshots resonate in the city on daily basis, the snowball effect of this complete unrest may be something worse than we can handle – civil war. I strongly urge the Sindh Police to own up to their responsibility and arrest these gangsters, who are also notorious for extortion and other crimes amongst other offences. 19 lives have already been lost as I write this. The new government needs to address the citizens of Karachi, who are on the verge of losing their faith in any kind of system after having lost their loved ones to routine clashes. That is the least that can be done in this hour of need. Read more by Imaan here or follow her on Twitter @SheikhImaan



When a child grows up in Lyari

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Ferjal Hussain is just three-years-old. I love him a lot. He doesn’t eat or sleep well when I am out of the city. I don’t allow him to go out and play with his contemporaries — though he does insist. We both play at home. I sing him folk songs and share with him the good stories I know. Sometimes, I recite Shah Latif and Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s couplets. He likes 'lab pe aati hai dua banke tamanna meri.' I dislike the environment with which he interacts — the abusive language, playing in the narrow streets and the habit of chewing chaalia and gutka. There is only one playground in the area, which mostly hosts drug addicts. Parents don’t allow their children to go there. Most of the children play right outside their homes. Women, men and young boys abuse and sometimes slap kids if they make a lot of noise out on the streets. I planned to move out of Lyari, for the sake of providing Ferjal with quality education, last year. I dreamt that he’d develop the habit of reading books and find good friends in schools and in the neighbourhood. I thought he won’t know ‘bad things’ till he turns 10. Before I could move to a safer locality in the city, my area of residence — Lyari — started echoing with intense firing and explosions. Faiza, my wife, and I tried hard to keep Ferjal inside the house, closing windows and doors so that he wouldn’t hear sounds of rounds of bullets, but he heard not just the intensive firing, but also explosions after the May polls this year.

“Papa, there was too much firing and I saw people running here and there,” he told me when I reached home. “Papa apna khayal rakhna,” he recited his mother’s words to me, on the phone. (Papa take care of yourself)
I felt that all was okay, that he had only heard the noises. I thought he’d forget everything within a few days. But then, I saw that he kept his toy pistol inside his pants and covered his shirt before demonstrating its usage.
“This is the magazine and this is the chamber. Load it and fire dishon dishon.”

From Bano’s eyes

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My shirt snags on the bus door as I get off. Ignoring the sniggering young boys looking on unabashedly, I straighten my shirt, wrap my intentionally mismatched dupatta more securely around myself and walk towards the apartments I work in as a maid. Entering the reception area, I notice a new face behind the counter and know that he will ask me who I am and where I want to go. As expected, he does. I reply "201"and he makes the call,

"Baji, aap ki maasi aayi hai" (Madam, your maid is here).
It’s ironic that the people I work for don’t use the term ‘maasi’ for me. They call me by my name and I am grateful for that. I have even heard them refer very euphemistically to me as ‘the woman who works for us’. It’s interesting that the word ‘maasi’ originates from the Hindi word ‘mausi’ – meaning maternal aunt. A maasi should then be one of the most favourite people in the house, right? But then again, I am important. My begum sahib (mistress) becomes quite agitated if I am absent or even if I am late beyond my usual time of 8:30am. The kids clamour around me, asking me to dust their toys and to “please put away our books”. I must be as important as an aunt then. Anyhow, I ring the bell and begum sahib opens the door with a smile and the usual questions, “How are things in your area today?” (I live in Lyari, an area worst-hit by the gang wars in Karachi) and “Are the buses running?” (CNG is unavailable 3-4 times a week, affecting thousands dependent on public transport). I mumble the usual reply and get to work. My daily duties include mopping, dusting, chopping vegetables, kneading the dough and doing laundry. It may sound like a lot but I’ve been doing this for so long that it’s like an extension of me now. I appreciate that begum sahib lets me do things independently, without constantly badgering me. I have friends in other houses who always complain that their mistresses stand on their heads while they do their chores. As I clean the floors with a phool jharoo (broom), begum sahib’s eldest daughter enters the house. She throws her gym bag on the floor, sprawls on the couch and begins complaining about the various limbs that hurt and how her trainer made her do extra exercises because she had an extra helping of dessert the night before. I smile into my dupatta as I think how she would not have to spend so much money on the gym if she phool-jharooed her room every day! While she’s whining to her mother about how painful it is to look good and stay fit, the cat jumps onto her lap demanding attention. This is the newest addition to the ever-growing animal population in the house, which includes a fish, a rabbit and few birds. She strokes the Persian cat absent-mindedly and fiddles with her phone (it must be new because until yesterday her phone was red and now she’s playing with a yellow one). Slapping her forehead with her palm, she scrambles to her feet – the cat jumping off and mewing in protest – and grabs her bag with one hand and her pumps with the other. Startled, her mother looks up from the latest edition of a lawn magazine and asks her what happened. The daughter says, “Rooi (the cat, named so because she looks like cotton wool) has her vet appointment today!” and quickly scampers off to shower, all the while yelling instructions to me and Adam (the driver) to pack Rooi’s basket, toys and food. This, I have understood in my time spent with this family and their animals, is what it means to have a pet when you are well off. The servants do all the work – cleaning litter boxes, replenishing food and water, ensuring they get adequate sun and air and keep them exercised – while the owners get to play with them. Actually, that’s how they are with their kids too! We do all the work while the parents can enjoy their company. But who am I to complain? Begum sahib gives a decent wage, is mostly courteous, and gives me leftovers so that food isn’t wasted along with old clothes and household items. Oh! And of course two new suits for Eid. Bringing myself back to the present, I prep Rooi, complete all other chores and bid farewell adding “Tomorrow at 8:30am Insha Allah (if God wills)” because living in Karachi in general, and Lyari in particular, it is imperative to include the will of God in every gesture and intent. As I walk two blocks to the bus stop, I smile again and shake my head thinking,
“If begum sahib’s daughter would walk two blocks in the sun and do phool jharoo every day, she would never worry about keeping fit!”

Lalas are fighting each other…but who is giving them weapons?

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Chachu, I heard three deafening explosions and I have been hearing gunshots for three days now! Dad is not even letting me go to school because of the terrible situation outside,” said my 12-year-old nephew, while calling me from his house in Chakiwara, a part of the gangster stronghold in Lyari. “This time Lalas are fighting with each other,” he continued.
Lala, though a Balochi word meaning older brother, is ironically now used to refer to gangsters in Lyari. Once again, Lyari finds itself in the midst of a gang war, at the mercy of a handful of thugs who roam the streets, shooting sophisticated ammunition at each other, and that too with complete impunity. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="540"] A protester throws a tear gas shell back towards security forces as they arrive for an operation in Lyari. Photo: Reuters[/caption] Many people have been killed so far in the fresh round of violence, including innocent civilians. Apart from the killings, life in Lyari has come to a complete halt. Children are agitated at not being able to go to school and play with friends. Women beg their husbands, sons and brothers not to go to work. Men are at a loss since their income has come to a standstill. I recently returned to Lyari, for a couple of months after a year-long absence, and what struck me immediately was the complete lawlessness prevalent in the entire locality. I saw men, wandering around Lyari, brandishing weapons and rocket-propelled grenades, many of which seemed just a little too sophisticated for local gangsters to be equipped with. Not only have police operations against these criminals been a total failure; in fact, the gangs routinely outgun the police. Now, however, these gangsters are fighting among themselves. After the bomb blast that killed 11 people, mostly kids, at a football tournament at the end of Ramazan in 2013, differences between gangs have risen to the fore. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="540"] People gather after bomb blast during football match at Bazinjo Road in Sango Lane, Lyari. Photo: S. Imran Ali/PPI Images[/caption] Ever since the murder of Zafar Baloch, people in the locality have been even more fearful, expecting an escalation in violence with every passing moment. In spite of taking ‘control’ of the area, police and rangers have not arrested many gangsters as yet, and their claim that violence is taking place in only a few areas of Lyari is far from the truth. While pretty much all of Lyari burns, our law enforcement agencies are simply making false public statements exaggerating the work that they have been doing in the area. It is very easy to blame gangster and perhaps, even easier to blame the violence on ignorance and illiteracy. However, the question remains: who is arming these gangs with such sophisticated weapons while the police hide in their police stations, leaving Lyari to descend into utter chaos and anarchy? [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="540"] Pakistan Ranger personnel standing with weapons captured from Lyari: Photo: Muhammad Azeem[/caption] It seems like the law enforcers have deliberately chosen to turn a blind eye to the violence, hoping that the gangsters will do their work for them. I think that their approach is that once one group eliminates another, they can deal with what’s left. In the meanwhile, the people of Lyari, held hostage by gangsters for decades, continue to be politically victimised and neglected. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="540"] Arrested criminals and captured weapons lying in the custody of Pakistan Rangers after operation in Lyari. Photo: Rashid Ajmeri[/caption]   The worst part of it all is that no one seems to care. No one so much as attempts to bring peace, no one empathises and absolutely no one considers the human suffering of the people of Lyari. These people lack basic facilities like water and an uninterrupted supply of electricity. But, right now all they really want, in fact, all they really need, is peace. However, that is something that the government seems unable and more so unwilling, to provide. So, until the people, the government and the law-enforcing agencies do not start caring and working towards peace, Lyari will continue to burn along with its people. A disgruntled Lyari is an unstable Karachi and we know what that means for Pakistan. We don’t just need to wake up, we need take action.

Sindh Festival 2014: ‘Culture’ is not a spectacle to be sold, neither can it disguise past failure

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The Sindh Festival 2014 is not a beacon of hope; it is a reminder of just how far behind we are lagging. Perhaps it is because of my deep Sindhi roots, my familial history and my life experiences but I don’t think that the Sindh Festival 2014 is anything worth celebrating. I have lived in Hyderabad for 14 years followed by five years in Karachi and the distinction between the two cities is clear – Hyderabad is more Sindhi centric culturally while Karachi is more of a melting pot. Neither one is better than the other but they are both different. In Hyderabad, spectacles similar to what Baby Bhutto showcased at the opening ceremony of the festival are widespread. The festival’s opening ceremony was a variety show with the best-behaved aspects of Sindh highlighted and polite omissions of anything that may seem radical or even ‘heavy’. The performers happily reduced an ancient civilisation to a handful of singers, women were used as props to showcase clothes they’d never wear otherwise (even if it were to save their lives) and an archaeological site was decorated as the centrepiece so that the present inhabitants remember that we are lucky enough to own such a site. But why we are lucky, we neither have the time nor the willingness to find out. Of course, these sites never reached this level of extravagance in reality.  But then again a former president with multiple Swiss bank accounts never funded them. The problem, however, is not the reduction of cultural heritage to a spectacle so that it is examined like a rare species of insect. The problem is that we still believe that this qualifies as cultural preservation. Let us, for a minute, not even think about the fact that almost half the children, under five years of age, are facing malnutrition in Sindh, that the percentage of out-of-school children in Sindh is the highest in Pakistan or that ethnic and religious minorities face constant hate crimes – for surely, none of these need be the provincial government’s priority (sarcasm absolutely intended). Let us instead, focus solely on the culture apparently being represented. During the opening ceremony, like the well-bred little politician he is, Bilawal Bhutto declared,

Marsoon, marsoon, Sindh na dain soon…” (We will die, we will die but we will not give up Sindh…)
Perhaps, no one in the audience knew the original orator of these immortal words. A young Sindhi general named Hosh Muhammd Sheedi uttered these last words before Charles Napier’s fleet was about to take over Sindh and he went down in history as the Indian subcontinent’s first Afro-Caribbean hero. But why should that be remembered? For surely, as the Sheedi community of Afro Caribbean descent is marginalised into the ghettos of Lyari where gang violence parades like the harbinger of death, bringing up a national hero belonging to the same marginalised group isn’t the wisest thing to do. It is too ‘heavy’ for the ‘happy time’ the young patron-in-chief wishes to have with his international friends. Next, an exhausted Ali Gul Pir announced,
“I am a Sufi… everyone coming together and having fun is what the Sufis were all about…”
[embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1auzm7_ali-gul-pir-performance-in-sindh-festival-1st-february-2014_people?search_algo=1[/embed] A montage of clichéd folk melodies intertwined with contemporary musicians is exactly what the Sufi saints of Sindh would have wanted. Why mention here that the Sufis of Sindh have been linked to radical change? Why mention that Sachal Sarmast was a fierce critic of religious extremism? Why mention that Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai was a fierce critic of the submissive mentality? That his poetry opposed the Persian rule? Why mention that their poetry called for total equality in a religiously unequal and ethnically divided society? Why mention that the Sufis were also revolutionaries, resisting the political agendas of the time? Why mention that, had they been alive today, the political monarchy of the Bhutto family would be atop their list of what to resist? For this festival was about happy escapism and anything that encouraged resisting authority required too much courage of conviction to be deemed happy. And then there was the charming display of the archetypical women. Be it the costume clad mannequins that represented the village woman or Bakhtawar Bhutto’s charming promotional video or the songstress whom we will forever know via her first name – all feminine and polite, well behaved and politically correct – all were presented in a modern fashion at the festival. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1asytd_bakhtawar-bhutto-special-song-for-sindh-festival_news[/embed] However, these perfect women formed a stark contrast with their ancient sisters. In his poetry for the infamous queen Leelan, Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai painted the image of a very flawed woman – who literally traded a loving companion for all that glittered. But the famous poet did not condemn Leelan’s lack of political correctness; rather he drew on her experiences to encourage self-reflection and to identify the gravest mistakes that all human beings make – trying to be perfect. Sindh’s Leelan was never perfect but she had the moral courage to accept her wrongdoings as an attempt to learn and do better. But including these elements would not have worked for this particular festival. For if all the missing layers were added to the tower of confused performances that was the opening ceremony, we would have on our hands something that a stage show could never have captured. The reality of this culture is that it is too complex and needs to be studied in context. It has to be understood in socio-political shades of grey – it has to be understood. It is not an hour long performance; it is a story that spans centuries with lessons sewn into its most hidden corners. It is something worth incorporating into your everyday life, not a spectacle to be sold in an attempt to disguise failure.

Karachi is blasphemous, Lahore is not

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If blasphemy is defined as ‘irreverent behaviour towards anything sacred’, Karachi is blasphemous; a city where something as sacred as human life is irreverently and disdainfully extinguished. As January limped to a close, three health workers administering anti-polio drops to children were shot dead. Bullet-ridden bodies of three young men were discovered and a police officer was gunned down in a suspected targeted attack. And yet, it is in Karachi, much more so than in Lahore, that a bastion of sharafat (respectability) is present; it is here that strangers smile at you, people say thank you for services rendered or stand aside and allow you to pass. In this sense, it is hard to decide where the blasphemy lies. Karachi’s heritage including the Empress Market, Frere Hall, Jinnah’s home and Mohatta Palace has been lovingly preserved. When the Indus Valley School was founded by a group of concerned citizens in 1989, the building was transported to the site brick by brick from a location further away. Karachi is where enterprise is most valued. It is home to some of the country’s oldest and best newspapers and magazines; its businessmen are the best in the country. Rarely in Karachi does one encounter the Lahori shopkeeper picking his teeth or worse while a customer fruitlessly searches the shelves. While Lahoris reel from the food street wars and meet over three-tiered trolleys in ornate drawing rooms, you meet friends in Karachi at a show or over a dossa or cappuccino at one of its innumerable cafes. What’s more, you go there without dolling up, in the same clothes you’ve been wearing since yesterday and without blonde streaks in your hair. Yes, blasphemy is a many faceted word, and Karachi a multifaceted city. In Karachi, I saw a little ragged boy no more than six-years-old, weave through cars to a water tanker to fill a can from a tap set into its side. The driver leant out but did not stop the child; the urchin grinned in thanks and darted back before the traffic light turned green. The whole incident was so illustrative of the symbiotic relationships that thrive in this massive city seemingly so alive but where nothing would survive if such relationships did not exist. All it needs is peace for its enterprise to flourish; a peace that appears to be extinct. Violence is the old man on this Sindbad’s shoulder, slowly throttling it to death. It would be a rare Karachiite who has not had his purse or phone snatched, his car taken away at gunpoint or his home broken into by armed men. You live in this city alongside gun battles, strikes and public transport shut-downs. Car owners skirt troubled areas with practiced ease while those who use public transport are forced to take expensive rickshaws instead of buses to work and back. On the worst occasions, neither buses and rickshaws, nor cars can run. Absenteeism in schools and workplaces is high. In Karachi’s Defence and Clifton, there is no Shahbaz Sharif to focus manically on a few issues. Even these ‘elite’ areas are dirty with large tracts of windblown rubbish dumps; the overwhelming issues of the people of Landhi, Korangi and Lyari are beyond the imagination and remit of this piece. In Karachi, buses are loaded as never seen in Lahore and each one bears signs of being burnt or smashed at some point. There is no rapid transit bus system such as the one Lahore possesses, no clampdown on late and noisy wedding parties such as in Lahore and no controls on the menu. Will Karachi ever be able to shake the old man off like Sindbad did? My hopes are pinned on that boy with the jerry can. It is from such roots that many of Karachi’s entrepreneurs have sprung up and many of its volunteers and workers, such as those who run the Edhi ambulances, go where no man would care to go. Maybe that child’s native ingenuity and of those like him can weave a path around Karachi’s troubles in a way that more privileged scions cannot do, before the lights turn red forever on this tortured but still pulsing port city. Karachi encapsulates the entire gamut of problems that separately beset the country; overwhelming problems relating to ethnic and religious diversity, poverty and above all, an absence of governance. The result is its dire absence of security. In Lahore, one is able to catch a glimpse of what can be achieved in however small a way when someone, anyone, cares, for however selfish a reason. That is the difference that makes all the difference. It is also what makes Lahore the better place to live, despite all Karachi’s attractions, interests and dynamism.


Dear Diary, the Lyari gang war doesn’t scare me anymore

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Day 1 Dear Diary, Today, I was awakened to the thundering noise of gun fires and frequent gapped blasts once again. Despite the fact that this is something very normal for us, the people living in Lyari, I still get scared. These horrific noises still send shivers down my spine and my heart sinks with ever boom. Every time I hear a gunfire shot, I wonder who has been slaughtered in this meaningless gang war going on. Last night, an unknown bullet struck Sara’s father, our neighbour, and he died instantly. I could hear the poor girl screaming and wailing over the loss of her father. He was not just the only bread winner of his own family but also took care of six helpless sisters and an invalid brother. Sara’s poor old grandmother kept cursing the ruthless and heartless culprits for displaying such barbarity. This incident has frightened me even more. I’ve been clinging to Baba since then. I haven’t let him step out of the house even once. I fear I might lose him if I let him do so and that adds on to my agony. Now it’s time to sleep. I’ll get back to you tomorrow. Yours, Tania  Day 2 Dear Diary, Today was one of the best and worst days of my existence. It was the worst because the bullets went sweeping past the windows, the gaps between those blasts became less frequent and the hurried movements of the gunmen shook the earth, the core of the neighbourhood trembled and the air echoed with gunfire. I have never felt more horrified. My heartbeat increased so fast that I thought my heart would break through my ribs and come out. I began weeping. I felt worse than a war captive. But you know what the best part was? Today Baba finally decided that he cannot live in this warzone anymore! We’re finally moving to another place, a more peaceful neighbourhood. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am. I might not be able to talk to you as often since from tomorrow onwards, we begin hunting for our new home. Good Night. Lots of love, Tania Day 10 Dear Diary, Eight days have passed since I last wrote to you. Today I want to tell you everything that happened in these last few days but I am blank. Completely expressionless. I have fallen short of words. I want to cry but my eyes have dried up. I want to scream but a lump is struck in my throat. You must be wondering where I was, right? Maybe I was busy with the house hunt? Or maybe shifting? No, I wasn’t busy because of either reason. I was busy because of the guests that had been coming and going back and forth. I was busy helping my family survive this crisis. I was busy because I’m supposed to be a survivor. I was busy because Baba died. Yes, my father who meant the world to me died. Baba died. And with him died everything; my fear, my anxiety, my hopes, my dreams and everything else. I died with him. The gunfire doesn’t scare me anymore. You must be wondering what happened to Baba, right? The same thing that happened to Sara’s father; he was hit in the head by a stray bullet and died instantly. Remember I told you I didn’t let him step out of the house? I didn’t display an inch of leniency. So, he stepped out of the house at dawn, while I was still asleep, to get bread and butter for breakfast. Before stepping out, he told my mother,

“Let me get it done before Tania wakes up or else she’ll keep clinging to my sleeves and won’t let me step out.”
I don’t want to live anymore. I feel like my world is empty without him. What good did this gang war do to us? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The government could have prevented the loss of so many valuable human lives but what did they do? Again nothing. Oh wait, they did do something. They ‘condemned’ it. Why don’t they realise that condemning is something they should leave to us, the ordinary people, and instead they should take some action so that no more Saras and Tanias lose their fathers. Giving us a huge sum of money doesn’t replace the affection and love of our father. I dont want their dirty money. I just want my Baba back!! Can their ‘condemning’ the attack bring Baba back? No! They have to realise that this is the time to do something and they need to take some positive steps. They have to. Because if they don’t, soon enough, there may be no one left to save. Yours, Tania

Robin Hood, the Pakistani version

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I was not shocked at all. The room did not look like that of an informant; adequately lit, curtains drawn, handful of furniture, most noticeable of which was the centre table decorated with an unlit candle. Perhaps he was expecting a power outage; part and parcel of Karachi these days. You would be surprised to know that crime reporting is really not as dramatic as it seems on the one hour investigation shows on TV. And here I was, sitting in front of a person, a man the age of my younger brother, who sat there with more confidence than I could muster and not a hint of menace. He had been staring at me for over a minute and when I just couldn’t help myself any longer I blurted out,

“So, you have a story for me?”
This better be worth it, I thought to myself. The guy had woken me past midnight and I could not bear with the thought that a false call ruined my slumber, especially when I had planned to visit my family early in the morning; we were throwing a party for my younger brother for finally joining the local police force. Aah… finally a police recruit in our family. I got lost in my thoughts when the guy took out a cigarette from the pocket of his faded jeans and said,
“Yes, I’m sorry I bothered you at this time, but my people were not expecting this.” “Can you give me your background? Who do you work for” I asked, refusing his offer to smoke.
Grinning, he replied,
“I don’t work for any one. I am sorry for lying to you.”
“I am not a part of any big fancy undercover operation. See, you wouldn’t have come running to interview a self-employed person at 2am in Johar Town now would you?”
Looking at my expression, he continued,
“See Mr Naveed, a little lie doesn’t hurt anyone if we do it for the sake of society.”
Sensing there was more to this man than met the eye, I stayed quite.
“But I promised you a story and I will give you a good one.”
He lit the cigarette and continued,
“My friend Chandio, who is in the other room, had a crazy idea a month back. You can’t blame him. Even you will end up going crazy if someone mugs you thrice at gun point. I bet half of this city is crazy since we have been mugged at least once in our life time. Seriously Mr Naveed, once you see that loaded barrel pointing at your face, you can never go back to who you were. So I found Chandio crazy as well when he let me in on his brilliant idea. He said, what if we do the same? What if we start mugging the muggers? No ethics would disapprove of this. We would take what does not belong to them. Like Robin Hood! But we would give it back to ‘us’…”
And then in a deceivingly innocent voice he said,
“Now, Naveed Sahab, don’t judge us. We were very poor at that time.”
He took another drag from the cigarette and continued,
“So one day we decided to try it. I acted as bait and started talking on my easily noticeable iPhone in the middle of the crowded II Chundrigar Road. I’m sure you’ve heard stories of people getting mugged there. Only this time, we took the game to them and trust me Mr Naveed, it had barely been 30 minutes before someone nudged me from behind. For the first time in my life, I was happy to see a gun pointing towards me. I handed my phone to him without saying a word. Soon after, Chandio followed him on his Honda 70 and on an empty street, ran over him. Chandio took my mobile and the mugger’s satchel filled with shiny touch screens.”
I was hooked
“The mugger must have broken his leg because we saw some bystanders gathering to help him. Had he known that the same people he mugs everyday are helping him, he probably would not have done so. See Mr Naveed, we were not only changing our fortunes, we were changing lives.”
After a brief pause he continued,
“It was all going well and even the crime rate at II Chundrigar Road dropped. We hired two day workers from Lyari to assist us. Don’t be surprised, we followed the contracting model.”
He grazed the burning end of the cigarette on the table and went on,
“Times were good until this evening when Chandio hit a mugger at Sea View. Apart from the stolen goods, something else caught our eyes… his ID card.”
He looked straight at me, with an unreadable expression of his face and continued,
“We were expecting it might catch your attention as well.”
There was a tense pause and then he just smiled. After a second he yelled out loud,
“Chandio! Bring in our guest.”
With the sound of each footstep nearing my heart sank deeper. I looked up to see a badly bruised man being dragged in by ‘Chandio’. I could recognise that face in thousands. My younger brother was not going to be at his own celebration tomorrow.

Want to learn about the 2014 FIFA World Cup? Go to Lyari, Pakistan’s mini Brazil

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It is said that things are not always the same on the inside as they may seem on the outside. Don’t judge a book by its cover. The same phrase can be said for Lyari’s current situation. Lyari is one of the oldest and most densely populated areas of Karachi, where people belonging from different races and ethnicities have been living together for years. However, people need to understand that Lyari’s real identity has been manipulated and the area is wrongly presented as a symbol of terror and fear. It is not as bad as it is portrayed by the media or discussed during dinner gatherings. In order to realise the normalcy in Lyari, one must visit the locality, especially while the world’s most watched event, the 2014 FIFA World Cup, is underway. Millions of miles away, Lyari is seen to be portraying a mini Brazil of its own, with every nook and corner of every street decorated with colourful flags of different football teams and pictures of famous football players. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="448"] Photo: AFP[/caption] Most of us have heard of areas in Lyari like Kalakot, Baghdadi, Chakiwara and the likes, due to the many operations that have taken place there, but rarely have we ever heard of Football Chowk, Usman Park, Gabol Park, Peoples Stadium, Lyari Football Ground, Eidgah Ground and many similar places. At night, people gather at these grounds to watch the screening of the matches where big screens have been installed for people to come support their favourite teams in action. You get to see fans waving their favourite team’s flags, wearing jerseys of their favourite players with flags of their teams painted on their faces. One can say that they have a special traditional style and distinct culture. They start dancing on the echo of a special type of instrument, which is quite famous there. Every single goal sends them into an enthusiastic frenzy, especially if scored by their favourite team. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="448"] Photo: AFP[/caption] Brazil is an all-time favourite there, with motorbikes, houses and offices covered in Brazil’s flags. Germany, Portugal and Argentina follow suit. In terms of players, Lionel Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo and Neymar are liked the most; so much so that you even see young fans sporting Ronaldo’s signature hair style. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="448"] Photo: AFP[/caption] The extent of their love for this sport can be judged by the fact that, even before the match between Brazil and Mexico started, a rally was arranged without the supervision or inclusion of any political party, where the supporters danced and hooted for their favourite teams. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="448"] Photo: AFP[/caption] This under-privileged and misunderstood area is amazingly talented. Not only in football but the people of Lyari are equally talented in other sports as well, like cricket, cycling, donkey cart race, karate, boxing and various others. One will find many sports clubs and gymnasiums that are operated without any government assistance, where sportsmen train themselves. That is the reason there are a whole lot of sportsmen that have emerged from Lyari and the kind of enthusiasm these people have for sports is palpable. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone said that the greatest sportsmen came from Lyari. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="448"] Photo: AFP[/caption] I know that when you hear the word Lyari, the first few things to pop into your mind are civil war, thugs, gang wars, dangerous but this was my attempt to change the way Lyari is thought about. There are places and people who have hidden talents that don’t meet the eye, but if you search hard enough, you will realise that even a place like Lyari is gifted. It is so much more than just gang wars, guns and terrorism. Don’t believe me? Go see for yourself, visit the streets of the area and see how the people over there are full of life. Read the original Urdu version of this blog here.


No, I’m not a football fan – bite me Suarez

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I don’t follow football! Yes, I don’t have a favourite team – the closest I have ever gotten to it was when I played FIFA video games with my friends or back when Ronaldo had not gotten a hair transplant and was not such a Prince Charming lookalike; oh wait, that’s not the same guy – that explains a lot. By the way, we must limit the number of Ronaldos in one era, so that it’s easy to remember who is who. They are becoming the Khans of soccer. Exactly the way people from Rawalpindi think its cooler to live in ‘Pind’ rather than Islamabad, just because they have the GHQ. Or maybe how ‘Innocent Badshah’ from across the Clifton Bridge, comes for his weekly foreign tour to Pakistan’s equivalent of Jumeirah, every Saturday night, only to ride back at midnight with a loud silencer (oxymoron) and ripped skin tight jeans. A similar divide exists between the different kinds of football fans in Pakistan. The first one is the “Tony” fan. You will find the “Tony” sporting a Manchester United jersey as he walks into Ami’s superstore to buy food for Fluffy. No, that is not his hairy girlfriend but, in fact, his pet cat. His day doesn’t end till he sends her (the girlfriend not Fluffy) a selfie on Snapchat. And the girl responds with an audio message on Whatsapp saying,

“Oh my God, I love you my Messi”, as she yells at her maasi for ruining her ironed clothes.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, her maasi is the closest she had ever gotten to knowing about Messi before the World Cup, but then again, you can’t do anything about true love. It happens, just like an own goal. For the second kind of football fans, it’s more of a generational affair. Not only to watch football, but to dodge bullets and brawls to watch it as a group on a friend’s rooftop. This particular group will always support one team for ages. One wonders why the Lyari boys are still supporting Brazil after all these years? Do they think that if they change their favourite team now we will call them lotas? Or maybe it’s because they are dark skinned too, if so, then why not support the Ivory Coast or Nigeria? This is not politics; you can change your favourite team anytime you want. And then there are people who are standing on the LOFC (Line of FIFA Control) and don’t know jack about the sport but need to have an opinion. Why? Well, it’s simply, because everyone in Pakistan needs to have an opinion about everything. Be it is the timing of operation Zarb-e-Azb or whether Suarez should have been banned for his Bhakkar antics.
“I will support Iran because they are Muslims!” “But this is a sport, not whoever wins the World Cup rules the world tournament” “No! We should support our brothers in war and fun” “Okay…why don’t you support Ghana, it has several Muslim players?” “Because… they are… umm… not brownish like us?”
In the middle are people like us, who don’t really care but have friends who do, so now we need to be present in the match screenings and pretend that we care that Spain is out of the race. Even our local media has post and pre-match shows where they have gotten awkward looking teenagers to talk about the World Cup. Boys who probably didn’t even watch the match saying things like,
“My advice to Muller is to play more aggressively.”
For them my advice is – shut up and go treat your pimples! The only thing we have in common with FIFA World Cup 2014 is that players from all around the world are kicking our balls. Yes! We made the official ball for the cup, but, that’s it. So let’s wait for our cup, which is the cricket World Cup 2015! Because that, Sir, is our game! Even though it’s a British sport and the Brits played it when they got too tired of ruling us and we learnt it by being their water boys. But hey screw kushti and hockey, cricket yaayyy! Like Life & Style on Facebook, follow @ETLifeandStyle on Twitter for the latest in fashion, gossip and entertainment.

There is no Bhutto left to rebuild PPP, Mr Zardari

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Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) has decided to kick-start its campaign for the upcoming general elections. For this reason, and to prove that Lyari is still its stronghold like it has been in the past, the party organised a public gathering recently in Kakri ground. In a bid to gain local support for the coming local government polls and general elections, the party’s co-chairman, Asif Ali Zardari, during the public rally, announced multiple developmental projects. He said that the PPP government will build an engineering college as well as a housing scheme and promised that the people of Lyari will get jobs in public departments as well as a smooth supply of water to the area. I, for one, found this announcement rather odd. PPP has been in continuous power since 1988, in various capacities. It has led the federal government four times and has been part of the provincial government multiple times after it got established. And since the days of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s historic rallies, Lyari has been PPP’s so-called stronghold. So why is it that even after ruling Lyari for almost 30 years, the area does not have its basic necessities covered, such as clean water and provision of employment? This speaks volumes of PPP’s leadership in the area. And the question remains that if PPP was unable to provide these basic necessities to Lyari in the last 30 years, what chances are there that it would fulfil its promises now? Especially for a party whose slogan is ‘roti, kapra aur makaan’, such a situation is disappointing, to say the least. And the people of Lyari seem to think the same. PPP has lost considerable backing here and resistance was seen in the area before the gathering took place, as the party’s posters and banners were torn down. The party brought supporters from Gadap Town, Bin Qasim, Badin, Thatta, Jamshoro, Hyderabad and Sajawal to fill the Kakri ground to its capacity of around 35,000. But even after this, PPP’s importance seemed to have diminished in the area. Additionally, PPP minister Javed Nagori, who was elected from Lyari, was attacked a few days after the gathering in which his brother lost his life. However, there were no processions or exhibitions of sorrow from Lyari’s side. This has proved that all of PPP’s efforts, including their ‘jalsa’ to regain their support in Lyari, have completely failed. PPP is facing perhaps the most difficult time of its history. It has several challenges to face simultaneously – intra-party rifts, Bhutto family rifts, poor local government performance, fear of turning the on-going Karachi operation against it, law and order situation in Karachi, Uzair Baloch’s statements against the PPP leadership, losing support even in Lyari which had never happened in the past, and the biggest one, the highly serious allegations levelled by Zulfiqar Mirza against the party’s senior leadership. To muster public support, Zardari loudly extended support to Kashmiris in his speech. This is an indication that the PPP will use the Kashmir issue in its campaign for the next election. By doing so, PPP would be the country’s first liberal party to use this issue for polls. The poor situation of governance and progress in the province has reached to a point where people from the private sector have started taking matters into their own hands. They have initiated development projects, relief and compensation for victims of floods and bomb blasts as well as gathered ransom money for Somali pirates in order to release the Pakistanis held captive. These initiatives have raised a serious question mark on the existence and performance of the PPP-led governments, both at the centre and provincial levels in recent years. Another such example is Bahria Town, which is doing what the government was supposed to do in Karachi – create homes and develop the city. In order to truly revive the party’s image and regain the trust of the masses, PPP should learn from its past mistakes, reset its priorities and should focus on its performance in Sindh. Zardari should realise that there is no Bhutto left in PPP today who can help rebuild its tarnished legacy. Only tangible, visible progress can save PPP now. Reconciliation policy alone would not benefit him anymore. While mostly depending on alliances with other parties to remain in power in recent years, Zardari seems to have lost his faith in PPP. This is evident from the party’s consistent offers to Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) to join the Sindh government. This is a mere lack of confidence and depending on others not only damages the party’s image but also disheartens PPP leaders and workers alike. Many believe that the PPP has almost died while trying to keep Bhutto’s name alive. Today, PPP needs to follow Bhutto’s actions in order to be reborn as a political force and not just use his name in empty rhetoric.


Can ‘Shah’ box its way to the top?

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Pakistan is a land of talented and gifted people. We have people who have made something out of nothing. With barely any resources available, various Pakistanis have outdone themselves in recent times and have brought pride and prosperity to their motherland through their hard work and sheer determination. Shah is a movie which is based on one such individual, who rose from the cluttered streets of Lyari in Karachi. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2w9lyj[/embed] He rose from nothing and became the pride of Pakistan, but eventually, he was reduced to a mere memory in the minds of Pakistanis. Shah is a story based on true events about the journey of Pakistan’s famous national hero, Syed Hussain Shah. He became the only Pakistani to win a bronze medal during the Olympics in Seoul in 1988. The movie was released this Independence Day to pay tribute to Pakistan’s forgotten national pride. It is a sports biopic and the ideology and concept behind the film is brilliant and worth applauding. The movie starts with a journalist named Noor (Kiran Chaudhry) who inquires about Hussain Shah, the famous Olympian Pakistani boxer who won numerous gold and bronze medals for his country by participating in international boxing matches. She finally manages to find Shah who narrates his life story and the hurdles he faced on his journey to dominating Asian boxing for nearly a decade. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Shah official Facebook page[/caption] Performance wise, I feel the movie solely rests on one man’s shoulders, Adnan Sarwar, who is not only the director and writer but also the music composer. His accent and dialect throughout the film are quite impressive. Some scenes are worthy of applause; for instance, when he wins his first fight in Calcutta and the Indians tease him saying, “Jootay do Shah ko.” (Give him shoes) That particular scene with Pakistan’s national anthem playing in the background gives the audience goose bumps. Similarly, another superb scene is when Shah wins his fight in London. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="428"] Photo: Shah official Facebook page[/caption] Other than Sarwar, the other actor who manages to leave a mark on the audience is veteran Gulab Chandio. He portrays his character with complete gusto and is an absolute delight to watch. Most of the actors in the movie are locals from Lyari, which I feel may have been somewhat of a challenge for Sarwar, but it all seemed to work out perfectly. Apart from Sarwar and Chandio, the rest of the actors have limited screen presence. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Shah official Facebook page[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Shah official Facebook page[/caption] Shah sends the right message of pride, patriotism and aptly pays tribute to the great Shah. Unfortunately, the film does have its flaws and lacks quality and aesthetics in other departments. For instance, the editing by Tahir Ali seems to be the weakest part of the movie. Similarly, cinematography by Omar Daraz and Hassan Zaidi is nothing to write home about. This could be due to the fact that the team had an extremely limited budget to work with as compared to the other recent Pakistani productions. Other than that, Urdu dialogues should have been supported with English subtitles as some of the dialogues were a bit difficult to comprehend. However, it’s great to see that Pakistani directors have taken the initiative to delve into the lives of famous yet forgotten heroes. If you want to educate yourself about the famous Olympian and support the revival of Pakistani cinema, then I suggest everyone to go watch Shah.  [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Shah official Facebook page[/caption] Overall, even though the message of the movie was very strong, it lacked the finishing touches required to make a film go all the way. I would rate Shah a 2.5 out of five.


Will Uzair Baloch be treated as a political ally or gangster?

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After the arrest of Uzair Baloch, numerous questions have arisen which must be answered by those relevant to his political and armed existence in Lyari. I have personally been a part of various meetings which hosted Uzair Baloch as chief guest. These meetings included audiences with the likes of political individuals and renowned journalists. Surprisingly, these individuals have great relations with the gangster from Lyari. In a strange twist of fate, I had a personal encounter with this infamous man. I, along with a few of my friends were attending a Baloch cultural day in Lyari. During the event, I received a phone call from an unknown number. The caller warned me that I should watch my back at university (Karachi University) the day after. Baffled and shaken up, I wondered what I had done in order to receive such a threat, when I recalled an incident which had taken place the day before. Somehow, a few friends and I had gotten into a heated debate at Karachi University’s cafeteria. Unfortunately, the individuals who I had gotten into an argument with were student leaders of a political organisation, which explained the threats. As soon as I shut the phone, my friend, Zafar Baloch (late) noticed my face lose colour and asked me if everything was okay. Uzair Baloch was standing beside him and they both prodded me to tell them what the matter was. After divulging the details of the phone call, Uzair Baloch gave me a telephone number and told me to contact him on it. According to Zafar Baloch, he was a law enforcement agency officer and would help me out with my situation. Zafar Baloch assured me he would call Uzair before hand and remind him about my situation. He told me not to worry since Uzair would definitely help me out. I wondered how, since my issue involved individuals who had political backing. But suddenly it occurred to me that this was ‘the’ Uzair Baloch, the man behind People’s Aman Committee (PAC) and the man in charge of leading the PAC rally outside the US consulate in Karachi after the Salala incident, resulting in the martyrdom of our soldiers. It’s a well-known fact that Uzair Baloch is the leader of a militant faction, which has been blamed for criminal dealings including ransom, abduction, extortion and target killings. Most importantly, the seat he took over in Lyari was the seat of a notorious criminal, Rehman Baloch, popularly known as Rehman Dakaite. He became the sardar of PAC soon after Rehman Dakait was killed in a police encounter. Rehman Dakait was involved in various target killings in Karachi and had a bounty price attached to his name. Therefore, one of the first questions that need to be asked is; why is someone who took over a criminal’s seat allowed to freely roam the city, and that even with an entourage of security? Uzair Baloch’s main man is Habib Jan. Habib Jan led various protests against the police during an operation against PAC. The protests remained futile, but an FIR was launched against him. What became of Habib Jan? He is now a staunch supporter of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaaf (PTI) and is residing in London. Which leads me to my next question; where were our LEAs when Habib Jan succeeded in escaping Lyari and managed to flee to London? Since we are on the topic of these criminals coming and going from Karachi whenever they please, let us also look at how Uzair Baloch managed to leave Karachi, given that cases were pending against him. Somehow Uzair Baloch managed to return to Karachi upon Zafar Baloch’s demise and was successful in leaving Karachi yet again. After this, he lived in South Africa for a few months and we all know what happened after that. He was arrested by interpol, brought to Pakistan, and placed in a safe house. This incident gives birth to another query. Will there be any Joint Investigation Team or a commission to probe how Uzair Baloch managed to leave Pakistan in the first place? More importantly, who were his facilitators? Will Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) be the only political organisation to face the brunt? Will other political parties, whose leaders remained hand in glove with Uzair Baloch, for instance, Muttahida Quami Movement (MQM) who is known to have invited him to join the ruling party in centre, face the music as well? Let’s say Uzair Baloch’s link with political parties is somehow proven; who then would be held responsible for the massive killings during the MQM and PAC clash a few years back? Today, hundreds of young Baloch’s residing in Lyari are militants. They know how to pull the trigger of Kalashnikovs, but they don’t know how to hold a pen. They cannot identify the smell of roses, but will be able to smell and identify hashish instantly. Is Uzair Baloch the only man who should be held accountable for these issues? There are various factors which have led to the social and psychological construction of the Baloch youth in Lyari. Though it would not be justified to state that Uzair Baloch is the only man responsible for the conditions in Lyari. To begin with, who allows these drugs to be smuggled from Afghanistan? Where are the narcotics? How are government agencies overlooking such grave issues? When, on the very few occasions, these individuals were questioned about where they got their supplies from, out of fear, they barely responded. Whose job is it to pursue such cases then? A large amount of money was invested into Lyari during the tenure of former President Asif Ali Zardari. Where were these funds channelled? It is as undeveloped as it was since its inception. What ever happened to accountability and will the individuals responsible for mismanaging the funds, be questioned? Lastly, will a final verdict be passed against the tolerance of using PAC as a means to safeguard the interests of political parties and individuals? Let’s hope Uzair Baloch’s investigation report will remain private before being submitted to the courts and his arrest will be treated as the arrest of a gangster, rather than the arrest of a political ally.


Why isn’t anything being done about the 10,000 ghost madrassas in Sindh?

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Sindh, the southern province of Pakistan, has always been an epicentre of progressive political parties which keep a close check over the spread of religious militancy and violent extremism in their constituencies. Even though Sindh has been a secular and progressive region, where Sufi traditions have never let the militant mind-set prevail, the province still supports tens of thousands of madrassas (Islamic religious schools). There’s just one problem: many of these supposed madrassas don’t actually exist. A meeting, between the officials of Sindh, held in May at the chief minister’s house in the provincial capital of Karachi, was told by the inspector general of the Sindh police that over 10,000 ghost madrassas had been unearthed through physical verification. This verification was made after 7,724 actual madrassas were geo-tagged. Ghost schools have been a point of debate in Pakistan for many years but this new term, “ghost madrassas,” has stayed under the radar. Ghost schools exist only in government books, from which they receive annual funding from the education budget. As a result, individuals are able to pocket funds meant for schools that do not actually exist on ground. Recently, Sindh managed to largely root out many of these ghost schools; now it has to cope with the new phenomena of ghost madrassas. Ghost schools are supposedly government entities, and the provincial government provides funds for them. But who is funding these 10,000 ghost madrassas, and who is benefiting? What is the purpose of these ghost madrassas? After all, they exist only on paper, yet most of them are unregistered with the relevant authorities. Whatever funds they get don’t come from the state. To answer these questions, I spoke to police officers and other members of law enforcement agencies, including a senior official with an intelligence agency. These interviews revealed that ghost madrassas serve as revenue streams for various religious groups, most of which are engaged in militancy and violent extremism.  A few of the figures behind these ghost madrassas have political motives, while some are believed to run ghost madrassas to meet the needs of their families. Being a hub of Pakistan’s economy and home to the major port city of Karachi, the province of Sindh alone produces around 65% of the total revenue of Pakistan. As a result, it also provides an environment that’s conducive to those seeking to exploit religion to provide their own revenue stream — including militants. So how do these ghost madrassas generate money when they are not funded by the government, unlike ghost schools? Interestingly, I was told that the most active source of their revenue has been intercity bus routes. The most common method of fundraising is simply for a bearded man, carrying a booklet of receipts, to board a bus and ask passengers to donate to the on-going construction of his madrassa or mosque. Sometimes they resort to emotionally blackmailing the passengers by asking for their help in feeding readers of the Quran. Scores of ghost madrassas are promoted as an “additional room” for a mosque. These ghost madrassas also collect animal hides on Eid and gather funds by visiting businessman. Others, rather than collecting funds from bus passengers, have collection boxes in shops, gas stations, or shopping malls; they also operate online accounts and promote themselves on social media. Many ghost madrassas have bank accounts that they mention on their banners, which are usually hung during holy days. The major chunk of these ghost madrassas are established by a group of activists who run their collection drive in areas where the upper class congregates, such as Khadda market near the army’s housing development in Karachi. A senior intelligence officer revealed that ghost madrassas usually operate through bank accounts fusing their fake madrassas and registered non-governmental organisations. When asked to elaborate on the mixture of NGOs and ghost madrassas, the officer said the perpetrators want to keep their revenue intact, avoiding Zakat and tax deductions. Thus, they operate through a registered non-profit organisation. They use these bank accounts especially to generate funds from social media and members of the community living abroad. The official also said that the ghost madrassa fundraisers are often involved in money laundering. Through the money they raise, they have been investing in real estate. Ghost madrassas have been a successful endeavour because most Pakistanis pay the fundraisers without verifying if their mosque or madrassas actually exists. While I was investigating ghost madrassas, I took a bus trip from Lyari to Thatta and back, a distance of around 15 km. Sure enough, two boys boarded the bus and started requesting funds for their madrassa, supposedly being built at Cattle Colony bus stop. This made me remember the days when I used to travel by bus from Steel Town to Millennium Mall to reach my college. Every day, someone would board the bus asking for funds for the same madrassa, which after nine years is still supposedly “under construction”. Sindh’s inspector general claims there are around 10,000 ghost madrassas in the province; the real number may be far larger. And these figures are just for Sindh, our entire country faces the issue of unmonitored madrassas – who is to say if most of them are ghost madrassas or not. Under the guise of fundraising for religion, madrassas and mosques, the public is easily tricked. The majority of people don’t verify that the mosque or madrassa in questions exists before handing over their money to the ghost madrassa mafia — this is how we have been fuelling the thousands of criminals and militants who have taken up this lucrative business. And we need stop doing that now. This post originally appeared here.


Dear Shehbaz Sharif, what makes you think “Karanchi” wants to be like Lahore?

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Shehbaz Sharif’s pre-election visit and recent comments regarding “Kiranchi”, stereotyping an entire community, seem to have created some ripples in an already charged up political environment in Karachi.  At a time when Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) is badly fragmented; Pak Sarzameen party (PSP) is cementing its position in the upcoming elections; Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) is an utter failure even after two consecutive terms in Sindh; Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) is suffering from several in-house ticket issuance problems, Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) is trying to fill up the current void by Shehbaz’s visit to Karachi and quite recently, a jalsa in PPP-stronghold Lyari. After the systematic dismantling of MQM, due to some verbal vitriol by its London-based supreme leader, the party has lost its hold on areas that were once considered as its strongholds. Further fragmentation within the party has left the Karachi electoral battlefield open for some positive and healthy competition, which was earlier nearly impossible due to the element of fear and intimidation that prevailed during all the previous election years. After the fall of Nawaz Sharif and the rise of Shehbaz, PML-N seems to have taken a non-confrontational approach and the focus is entirely on the upcoming elections. Shehbaz’s claim to fame is the remarkable development he carried out in Lahore, which he intends to replicate in Karachi if given a chance from NA-249. But is it fair to say that he will turn Karachi into Lahore? I do not believe that it is. https://twitter.com/xSaimaAnsarix/status/1012675415486451712 Karachi is home to hordes of migrants, reaching the metropolis almost on a daily basis in search of work. This has caused an exponential rise in the population for which the city’s resources aren’t enough. Karachi has a population that is large enough to be a country with a separate government setup and several provinces within. While Lahore enjoys unity of command and not a very diverse populace, Karachi provides refuge to job seekers from north of Pakistan to interior Sindh and Balochistan. Moreover, the plethora of Afghan refugees have now started their businesses in Karachi and a number of them are also allegedly involved in crime in the city. The residents of Lahore own their city, while the residents of Karachi who originally hail from other provinces, prefer to associate themselves with their home towns and villages rather than fully integrating into the Karachi lifestyle. They then treat the city like a temporary abode and hence, that leads to a number of civic problems that this city has been facing. As if this wasn’t enough, the previous federal government directed most of its resources towards Lahore, at a time when Karachi was yearning for their attention. The Green Bus project is still moving at snail’s pace, the entire city is a garbage dump, and the water crisis seems to be getting worse. This criminal neglect by both the provincial and federal government has brought Karachi to the situation where it is today. The PPP government could not address the issues of sanitation, health, education and infrastructure even after staying in power for a decade. MQM was a complete disappointment, right after General (retired) Pervez Musharraf stepped down followed by the departure of Mustafa Kamal (the two gentlemen who actually did something for the city). Shehbaz needs to realise that Karachi is not the same as Lahore and it will not take the same things to build up this city. Unlike Lahore, the work will not start from ground zero; it will start from “underground”, thanks to the previous politicians who have dragged this city down to the drains, quite literally. Basing his campaign on turning Karachi into Lahore will not be fruitful because these two cities have always been at loggerheads. It is not very smart to appeal to Karachi by comparing it to Lahore; Karachiites will not take that well! Karachi has its own problems and its own identity. It does not want to be like Lahore; it just wants to be the city that it deserved to be. Who advised Shehbaz that Karachi wants to be like Lahore? Saying that he wants to fix and better the port city without any comparisons would have sufficed. During his campaign, he addressed the Urdu-speaking community as paan-eaters (betel leaf eaters) and mocked the funny pronunciation they have when it comes to Urdu grammar. Safe to say, Karachi was not pleased, especially because the comments were coming from a Lahori. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRb5E_YQ1Oc However, while many from the Urdu-speaking community are objecting to this, I would rather deem it as a wakeup call for the members of a community that once took pride in its manners, culture and language. Urdu speakers were known for being fluent in rich Urdu, exhibiting flawless grammar and nuances. That culture has been replaced by Urdu slang and distorted pronunciations. The “aareeya hai, jaareeya hai, tairay ko, mairay ko” has further caused a gradual decline in the quality of spoken Urdu in our neighbourhoods. Paan and gutka were never a symbol for us Karachiites but are now the identity of the Urdu-speaking community, hence the mention by Shehbaz in his recent statement. https://twitter.com/iam_sidrah/status/1011679303996755970 The people of Karachi will have to vote for people based on the candidates’ previous performance and not on the basis of language, caste, sects or peer pressure. Vote for the candidate's vision, his achievements. This city badly needs a complete revival and we need leaders like Musharraf, Imran Khan, Kamal, Naimatullah Khan, Shehbaz and so on to bring that change. In future, this city will have to be governed with a completely different strategy and governance model. The current provincial model, with a rural centric party managing the affairs of this great urban centre, seems to have backfired miserably. Our city needs experts and professionals for its revival, just like any sick industry that requires professional intervention to kick-start it back to life.



Like mother, like daughter: Aseefa Bhutto Zardari should be the future of PPP, not Bilawal

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In many ways, the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) has been a progressive political force for this country. The development and implementation of a democratic constitution by Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto (albeit flawed); the party’s staunch opposition against dictatorship; the fact that PPP gave Pakistan and the Muslim world its first female prime minister – all these factors have portrayed PPP in a forward-thinking, amicable light. Hence, it comes as a shock that a party that was led by a woman for more than 20 years is finding it difficult to provide her daughter a nomination ticket for the General Assembly. Recently, it was announced that Aseefa Bhutto Zardari has been given a Provincial Assembly ticket to stand for elections from PS-10 Rato Dero. However, she was not encouraged to stand for the General Assembly elections, unlike her brother Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, the chairperson of the PPP, who is contesting from two General Assembly seats, Larkana and Lyari, Karachi. https://twitter.com/MediaCellPPP/status/1015288183981072385 Living in a patriarchal society, this might not be an issue for most who dwell in Pakistan. This sight is all too common for them – the son getting a bigger platform to showcase his skills whereas the daughter is side-lined to a smaller stage, overshadowed by her brother. But should we expect the same trend from one of the biggest political parties in the country? Is this acceptable treatment for the daughter of a woman who broke the highest glass ceiling in Pakistani politics? It shouldn’t be. Moreover, this is unfair treatment towards Aseefa, not just by virtue of her being a woman or Benazir Bhutto’s daughter. Over the past few years, Aseefa has shown her merit to become a formidable leader for the party. She has raised her voice for party workers, questioned her father’s choices, and shown great interest in the politics of her country. The case is not the same for her other siblings; in fact, Bilawal was criticised during the 2013 Elections for his lacklustre presence, which might have caused further damage to the party, combined with his father’s dismal performance in the prior tenure. https://twitter.com/BakhtawarBZ/status/1015542482929627137 Aseefa has a more charismatic personality compared to Bilawal. Her sheer passion for politics and her ability to revolt against current party leaders shows she has a mind of her own that enables her to ask the right questions. Calling out Khursheed Shah, a senior PPP leader, for his sexist remarks against fellow female MPAs during a parliamentary session, showed that Aseefa was willing to challenge archaic and sexist notions, even when they stemmed from her own party. https://twitter.com/MediaCellPPP/status/1015544960395988992 Her public disapproval of her father’s choice to include Irfanullah Marwat, who has been a controversial figure for PPP workers because of his role against them in the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) government’s tenure of 1990-93, showed that she is not hesitant to stand up against her father and his rather shady approach to politics. This also highlighted her commitment to follow her mother’s legacy. In opposition, Bilawal has rarely been seen asserting his will or influence, even though he is the chairperson of the party. Additionally, Aseefa has tried to expand her role and discuss issues related to health and education. Having a Master’s degree in Global Health and Development, she has the technical knowledge required to push for developmental programmes that would benefit her people. Being the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) Ambassador for Polio Eradication, and being the first famous child to have been administered the polio vaccine as a baby, she has highlighted time and again the importance of polio vaccines, and tried to diffuse the taboo associated with it. Her surprise visits to schools in Lyari and her discussions with students about the grievances they faced also showed her concern for this sector. One will expect her to work on these issues if she gets elected in the Provincial Assembly in the 2018 General Elections. During her recent campaign for her brother, a few pictures were released that showed her interacting with her supporters the same way her mother used to mingle with them, making them feel special. Benazir, like her father, knew that it is the PPP workers and supporters that make the party a powerful force. Asif Ali Zardari and his party leaders did not place the same importance on their supporters, and this has led to the party’s decline in recent years. Perhaps with Aseefa, PPP has a new ray of hope to reconnect with its voter base. https://twitter.com/MediaCellPPP/status/1015636751279419392 Discarding Aseefa for her parents’ sins is unfair. She is young, and might be able to bring exactly the kind of new perspective that Pakistani politics needs today. Aseefa deserves a greater share in the limelight, because she is a much more promising leader than her brother might be or her father has ever been.


The political catch-22: How will PTI help Karachi if PPP stands in its way?

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The General Elections held over a week ago broke the shackles that had bound the city of Karachi for so long. The public came out and voted for Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) and rejected the mandate of two powerful political dynasties that have ruled at the federal level for the last three decades. Not only this, the public voted out the most prominent and influential party of Karachi, the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM). The city of lights has been voting for the Altaf Hussain-led MQM in all kinds of elections, be they general or local body. However, except for the brief tenure of former mayor Mustafa Kamal, MQM’s performance for Karachi’s betterment has remained below par. Before the elections, Kamal’s Pak Sarzameen Party (PSP) was said to replace MQM in Karachi, but they unfortunately failed miserably. According to the general public, since PSP was a part of MQM before breaking away from them, they would be more or less the same. Hence, they rejected the dolphin’s mandate. Additionally, apart from the jalsas and rallies carried out by Imran Khan, the local leadership of Karachi failed to connect with its voters or to establish a momentum. This is why people of Karachi, inspired by Imran’s charisma, turned towards him and voted for PTI in large numbers. Imran’s charisma first attracted the people of Karachi in the General Elections of 2013, when PTI, against all odds, bagged more than 500,000 votes in the city. In these elections, PTI managed to garner more than a million votes, which adds on to PTI’s success in Karachi over the years. What works for PTI is the fact that the party emerged as a one-nation party; it did not do politics on the basis of ethnicity, language or religion. In fact, once Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) was the only party that could garner votes from all of the provinces. However, PTI has replaced PPP in this regard, further proving it to be party of the entire nation. The elections are now over and the process of government formation is in full swing. Many people in Karachi are disappointed seeing PTI and MQM-P come together to form the government. They feel helpless to a degree, as the party they had voted out has reentered their lives. While it is understandable that PTI has no other choice and has to form coalitions by the second week of August, Karachiites still feel the change that was promised has slipped away from their fingers. Irrespective of MQM-P’s inclusion in the government at the federal level, I am of the view that the mandate of Karachi is now firmly in the hands of PTI, and it is their responsibility to solve the problems of Karachi. The city is back in the mainstream political arena after voting for a national level party, and this is a good sign for its future. Even though Karachi is the biggest city of Pakistan, it has suffered a lot of setbacks due to a lack of planning and non-seriousness of local bodies. Karachi has always been an important city; so important, in fact, that it was declared the federal capital after the creation of Pakistan. A lot of people migrated here from other parts of the country in search of better opportunities and better livelihood. Even though Karachi is no longer the capital, the influx of people in search of greener pastures continues to this day. However, because of the overflowing population, the city suffers from many shortages; electricity, water, health facilities and so on. This, along with the crime and violence, makes Karachi an obvious challenge for any government. The rural and urban divide of the leadership has also contributed in Karachi’s downfall. The city received the first jolt when a quota system was introduced by the first government of PPP in 1973, which proved to be discriminatory. In 1988, when PPP, led by Benazir Bhutto, came into power after a long reign of dictatorship, it signed a 20-point agreement with MQM for the betterment of Karachi; a development celebrated by the public. Abolishing the quota system was part of the agreement, however, no action was taken to remove it. After a year-and-a-half, MQM pulled out of the federal government, citing that the government was unwilling to fulfill its promises. The quota system was initially introduced for 10 years, but is still applicable in Sindh. Instead of helping the rural population, it has only deprived the population of urban Sindh and created a divide between ethnicities. Over the last 30 years, PPP has come into power on both provincial and federal level on numerous occasions. In fact, in 2018 they will be forming their third successive government in Sindh. Yet the people of Karachi have no hope from them. Due to poor performance in Karachi, PPP’s popularity graph is falling. The defeat of Chairman Bilawal Bhutto Zardari from Lyari, an area that has always voted for PPP, is the major example of its falling popularity. I believe the people of Karachi are at fault if they expect PPP to develop the city, when it has not even done anything concrete for the province that has always voted for them. Though PPP fared better in the provincial assembly in 2018 than it did in 2013, one knows its parliamentarians (many of whom reside in Karachi) will not be making any efforts to improve the quality of life for its people. Moreover, after the 18th amendment, health and education has also become a provincial subject. The PTI-led government will face a lot of problems as they would need the support of PPP’s provincial government to work in these sectors. If the federal government brings any improvement using its discretionary powers, then they will be blamed for disturbing the province’s autonomy. This will be a great test for the PTI government; how to help the people of Sindh and Karachi, if PPP does not allow them to interfere. Karachi saw humongous development in infrastructure during the tenure of its two city nazims, Naimatullah Khan and Kamal. Their success was only possible because the local body system introduced in 2001 gave more power to the city’s mayor. Unfortunately, the new system introduced by the previous PPP regime cut down the powers of the city government and enhanced the powers of the provincial government. Keeping in mind the success of previous local body systems, MQM and PTI, who are going to be allies at the federal level, should strive to introduce a new and more dynamic local body system, not just for Karachi but for other parts of Sindh as well. PTI’s manifesto also carries a clause to form a South Punjab province. I hope they are able to do this, as making one province may pave the way for other provinces in the country. In my view, dividing large provinces into smaller administrative units will help in running them in a more efficient way, reducing the suffering of the people living in far flung areas. Sindh has a lot of resentment about dividing the province. If the people of Sindh are stubborn about making more provinces, then in my view it is better to shift the capital of Sindh from Karachi to Sukkur. PPP has won major seats from interior Sindh, and shifting the capital will help in reducing the pressure on the depleting resources of Karachi. It will take a majority of the Sindh Assembly closer to its people, and maybe they will finally put efforts into development of interior Sindh. Karachi has suffered a lot due to the tug of war between MQM and PPP for the ownership of the city. Unfortunately both parties are only interested in governing, and neither has any interest in solving the problems faced by its residents. For the first time in more than three decades, a party will form government because of Karachi’s acceptance of its mandate. I hope PTI takes ownership of Karachi and works towards solving the problem of the financial hub of Pakistan.


The diaspora of Naya Pakistan: The time is ripe for us to pay back to the motherland what is due

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Some years ago, summer of 2012 to be precise, I hosted an informal morning tea for Maleeha Lodhi, and while discussing the upcoming 2013 elections, she said to me,

It is not the Pakistan that this diaspora may have left 20 years ago, it’s a different Pakistan. The public is more desperate, the crises are much more and the conscious awareness that every vote counts is on everyone’s mind.”
Hence, to me, her statement implied that Imran Khan was going to be elected prime minister in the 2013 elections, but history tells us a different tale. Imran fell, and with him fell all our hopes. But come this July 26, 2018, our fervour is back in business. Our zeal is all the more profound after listening to Prime Minister Imran’s first address to the nation, and the nation at large, as referred to the Pakistani diaspora. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ta-ANSAJ4bc He talked to us directly, and we understood everything he said. To the sceptics who have an issue with Imran, why don’t you listen to his speech? He’s talking like you and I do while sitting in our drawing rooms, he’s talking like an average Pakistani. Tell me one thing he said wrong, and I’ll tell you a thousand things he said right! I’ve heard him speak on several occasions, at intimate gatherings, addressing a small number of people in a drawing room, and what struck me most about his speech on TV was the sincerity and authenticity he displayed. It is exactly how he is in person. He appears idealistic, passionate, almost unreal, and on giving it a closer thought, I realised it is because he talks like a common man, something entirely alien to us when coming from a politician. He talks how you and I talk when we exasperatedly exclaim,
“You know what, if I was ever elected, this is how I would solve, or begin solving the issues that are facing Pakistan.”
And that is a powerful feeling. It’s a feeling of trust. It’s a feeling of relatability. It’s a feeling an average Pakistani understands and admires, because it’s their feeling too. He mentioned all the right issues plaguing our country like child sexual abuse, corruption, maternal health and even the stunted growth of children. Listening to him making all these promises, I thought to myself, if he’s able to deliver even one-fourth or one-third of what he’s saying, which is no less than delivering unicorns and rainbows given the time frame, it will be beyond anything I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. Imran referred to all the ills ailing my beautiful country, and said he’ll try to find a fix; he acknowledged all the menaces, and asked for my help. I understood him, as did all the others I spoke to before writing this blog. Here is what the diaspora had to say: Salman Akhtar, Cardiologist, Las Vegas, Nevada:
“I hope that we can contribute monetarily, or as direct investment in the new Pakistan. The new government should come up with a sensible plan with enough transparency that makes all the expatriates comfortable that the effort is not to fill the coffers of some professional politician, or his cronies. With a humanitarian at the helm of the nation, the time is ripe for all of us to pay back to the motherland what is due. I am what I am today because of all the opportunities that my country provided for me, and the free professional education that was available. Seeing the nation crippled by debt, and the looting by the two major parties over the last few decades, it’s been heart-wrenching. It is time we pitch in.”
Muneezah Hamid, Teacher, Houston:
We, the diaspora, support Imran not because he’ll fix everything in a jiffy, but because he’s the best choice at this moment in time. Lyari not voting for Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP), Karachi getting rid of Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM), and the emerging Jibran Nasir force are very positive changes! No popular leader is faultless; neither was Barack Obama just to give an example from recent history. Yet, a change (in spite of his faults) is better than the old corrupt order. Keep an open mind, support good effort and do our own civic duties, wherever we may live, is what is needed at this time. What surprises me is that there was no clamour for accountability for precious governments. Imran is not a saint, nor has he come from a different world, but he promises something no one has ever promised before. I have lived more than half my life in Pakistan. My two daughters were born in the US and we moved back to Pakistan to raise them there until they were in their late teens. We suffered through many governments and the injustices that came with each. We do not condone the blasphemy law, nor violence against minorities. Hold Imran’s feet to fire, by all means. We too hope for a better Pakistan, but all we are saying is that he seemed like the best option at this time. As for Aamir Liaquat Hussain, well, he is a despicable character, but maybe a necessary evil at this time to win over the MQM vote. Are you not rejoicing the loosening hold of MQM in Karachi? I certainly am. Let’s be fair and objective in our analysis. Imran’s speech was wonderful; I’m a big supporter for now.”
Ayesha Jamil, Banker, London:
‪“I am very surprised that I am writing this next line. I was impressed and moved by Imran’s speech to the nation after he was sworn in as the prime minister. There it is. I have admired Imran for his cricketing career and his philanthropy, but his politics has often confused me. However, that speech and the ideas he encapsulated, it was the first time I heard a politician speak about issues that have concerned me about Pakistan. The way he spoke was open, frank, and he used Urdu I understood. There was no air of superiority. As someone who has spent most of her life abroad, listening to the PTV news in my childhood was like listening to another language, which felt as if we were being pushed away. Hence, listening to the Urdu spoken by Imran was in itself a breath of fresh air. After having supported and believed Pakistani politicians in my 20s, in my 40s I have to admit I lost hope. However, Imran’s speech gave me hope again, and I truly pray that he can succeed and create a Pakistan that gives its citizens among other things, clean water, healthcare, education, equality, sanitation, religious freedom and prosperity. I do hope that right-wing elements in the party don’t hold too much sway over him, and that we can create what this country called Pakistan was truly meant to be.”
Amna Mumtaz, Lawyer, Singapore:
“We have to be realistic, Imran and his party are far from perfect, they are all from here and from us after all, but one cannot challenge the guts he has displayed. We are so down and out that Imran looks like a true hero just for saying the things he has said. No one has even done that, lest they be held to it! Let’s hold him and all after him to their words. The onus is on us as much as them.”
To all the cynics who are unwilling to give him a chance, or compare him to others in the past, it’s interesting to me how we admire heroes in history books, movies and fiction. Heroes, who are gutsy and warrior-like, but have personal failings. Heroes who shake up the corrupt status quo, but are fighting their own demons too. Heroes who are Robin Hood, they take from the corrupt and give to the weak in society. Heroes who are compassionate, and ready to face the battlefield, and the Goliath within the country, and without! We admire the kings, Akbar, Babar and Saladin. Gladiators who are ready to fight, brave-hearts who are patriots yet flawed humans. If we are ready to admire the characters we have only read about, why are we held back from supporting our real life hero, Imran. Give him a chance; we have nothing to lose and everything to gain. There are no losers this time. We are all on the same team! Pakistan Zindabad!

Suhai Aziz Talpur: Celebrated worldwide but mocked in her own country?

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A week ago, three armed men attacked the Chinese consulate in Karachi. Before they could reach the diplomatic staff inside, the militants were killed in a police operation led by SP Suhai Aziz Talpur. The encounter also resulted in multiple casualties, including two visa applicants and two policemen fighting on the frontline. From CNN to Reuters, the news made rounds worldwide. Talpur is being glorified as the daughter of Pakistan, representing the face of bravery and women power. Restoring Talpur pride, her pictures are being juxtaposed alongside Faryal Talpur, who is currently embroiled in a money laundering case. Chinese media too is in awe of Suhai’s courage and beauty, some even commenting on the similarity between her and a famous Chinese actress, and proposals of marriage have poured in from across the border. https://twitter.com/sherryrehman/status/1065890304744714242 https://twitter.com/chaudhry_nabeel/status/1065934149519908864 Meanwhile, a strong backlash surfaced on local news and social media, questioning Suhai’s real contribution and mocking her for what is being labelled a publicity stunt. In a rather distasteful attempt, a local artist came up with a cartoon showing Suhai flaunting a medal and basking in media attention while standing on top of two bleeding bodies of the policemen martyred during the operation. The cartoon blatantly discredits her contribution, while implying that she tried to steal the limelight otherwise deserved by her team members who lost their lives during the encounter. From the contented expression sketched on Suhai’s face, it almost seems as if she took their lives on purpose. https://twitter.com/SyedAliHaider13/status/1066345554089779200 On the contrary, Suhai has repeatedly acknowledged the efforts of the martyred policemen. In an interview, she explained that even though it was her team’s effort, the deceased played the most crucial role in resisting the attack. She has repeatedly stated that the real credit goes to Assistant Sub Inspector Ashraf Dawood and Constable Amir Khan for keeping the terrorists engaged. And yet, with a now familiar sarcastic undertone, people are asking if “mohtarma” (madam) Suhai was even there during the encounter. A news report went on to raise doubts if the pistol in her hand was anything more than mere pretence. Mocking her actions, as seen in the footage from the end of the operation, the anchor suggested Suhai was simply waving the pistol and walking in and out to attract the media’s attention. The anchor further questioned if Suhai was not wearing a bullet proof jacket because she reached the consulate when the operation was almost over, and hence there was no danger requiring protection. In a manner more akin to moral policing, the presenter claimed Suhai hadn’t even visited the families of the deceased policemen who, along with the injured guard of the consulate, are the real heroes. While the martyrs deserve their share of tribute and attention, blaming Suhai for the loss of their lives or the lack of media attention on them simply goes back to our patriarchal mindset. Would Suhai be getting mocked and criticised if she wasn’t a woman? Probably not, and here’s why. On October 4th, the Karachi police completed a “successful” operation against Lyari’s notorious gangster Ghaffar Zikri. The encounter also resulted in the shooting of his four-year-old son who, according to the police, was used as a human shield. This is how a Pakistani news channel detailed the police encounter:

“Karachi’s police chief, Amir Ali Sheikh, who reached the site later applauded the effort.”
The news ticker continued to state,
“Killing of Zikri is a huge success: Karachi Police Chief.”
Sheikh was repeatedly shown embracing other men at the encounter scene, and answering questions from news reporters. Nobody accused him of stealing the limelight. No satirical illustrations were circulated to judge his actions or statements. What’s worse is that even though a four-year old was killed by the police in this operation, nobody questioned the police. In Suhai’s case, however, the accusations are being levelled almost as if she killed her team members herself. Even those who haven’t blamed Suhai for the media attention she has unintentionally attracted, comparing her with the martyred policemen is no less demeaning. In all honesty, why is there a need to compare Suhai with other men in the operation as if it was a competition of genders? Trivialising Suhai’s contribution in essence goes on to reflect our cynical mindset topped with a patriarchy too ingrained and stubborn to be tolerant of achievements irrespective of gendered identities.

“Abey kaale”: It’s not only Sarfraz Ahmed

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I grew up in a neighbourhood near Civil Hospital. Being a government hospital, it was always thronged with people – most of them belonging to the poorest segment of the society – who come in bereft of hope to get their loved ones treated for free. Civil Hospital was more frequently visited by residents of Lyari, a squalid area that is home mostly to the middle, lower-middle and poor segments of our society. Now, if anyone has seen the denizens of Lyari, they know that most of them differ from others in their looks in certain ways. Their complexion is dark and their hair is curly. (Yes, I know how it sounds, but don't be so quick to judge; read on first, then judge) In local vernacular, they are referred to as ‘Makrani’, those from Makran in Balochistan. There is nothing wrong with the term per se, but locals use it as a derogatory term to mock them for looking different. I grew up watching people in my surrounding mock them, though not on their faces. This term was soon associated to them. As a child, I saw that it amused me too because apparently, it was fun for everyone else. So, I found it funny as well and picked up on it. It permanently changed my perception about them and eventually whenever I saw someone from Lyari with those features, my mind instantly recalled the term ‘Makrani’. Though I never said anything racist to their faces, what I learned in my childhood forever changed my outlook towards people just because they looked mildly different than me. This doesn’t make me or those who I learned it from racists, but is part of a deeper, more pervasive problem that is ingrained in our minds. A problem that is invisible – or glaringly visible at times – so much so that we don’t even realise that there is a problem. No, I'm not trying to justify racism under the garb of societal influence. What I'm trying to do is to make everyone understand that it is something deeply ingrained in us from a very young age but that does not make it okay. Once we can realise how wrong it is, change should follow.  I realised, and now I understand. So should the following guy. Pakistan captain Sarfraz Ahmed, during Pakistan’s second ODI match against South Africa, passed a distasteful and derogatory comment aimed at Andile Phehlukwayo. He said:

Abey kaale, teri ammi aaj kahaan baitheen hain? Kya parhwa ke aaya hai aaj?” (Hey black guy, where’s your mother sitting today? What have you asked her to pray for you?)
https://twitter.com/BarnabyRead/status/1087954476835713024 He not only mocked him for his colour but also referred to his mother. Though he didn’t abuse her, in our culture dragging mothers and sisters in our jibes is intolerable and the fact that Sarfraz did that was reprehensible and all the flak he is getting is justified. Racism is a serious problem and all the other sports bodies around the world are very conscious about keeping this bad practice out of the game. Thus, Sarfraz’s action should not go without consequences. He should face whatever punishment the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) or International Cricket Council (ICC) deem fit. PCB has released a statement denouncing the incident, but hasn’t stated any repercussions Sarfraz would face. https://twitter.com/shoaib100mph/status/1087938696756772864 Sarfraz’s words were problematic and why many of us see no problem in them is because of a deeper issue: our insouciance towards our racist attitudes. There is a besotted sense of revulsion in how we look at people who appear different from us. This comes from being in a culture where terms like maila, kala, chamaar, and various assorted terms are rife and common on a daily basis. People unconsciously utter these words and while they are belittling and condescending, they are considered 'jokes'. https://twitter.com/Mohsin51987636/status/1087952268652097536 https://twitter.com/FalahParvez/status/1087800115044237312 https://twitter.com/abd_2997/status/1088061699859628037 While racism is being addressed as a serious problem in the world, our society is not willing to accept that we have this problem too. We shrug our shoulders by labelling our racist attitudes as mere jokes or sarcasm and consider them harmless. Calling out people who don’t have a fair complexion, taking barbs at our friends who are slightly darker in colour while appearing trifle and funny, have great repercussions. https://twitter.com/Gotoxytop1/status/1087778535878680576 When our society keenly indulges in such acts, our kids adapt this behaviour and become incapable of respecting people who are different from them. Because of their vacillation, they imitate what they see. This ingrained revulsion while making them prejudiced also gives them this mild idea of being superior. Thus, this racist attitude becomes a part of them without them being conscious about it. This attitude stems from our fetish-isation of white colour and fair complexion. Beauty creams are thriving, and cosmetic business is burgeoning just because we as a nation have an inane desire of being gora (white). This contempt for dark complexion is why we are bridled with this derision and we very well know it, though are in denial. Matrimonial ads start with demands of fair complexion, rishta talks – even in the educated, affluent class – end with the demand of fair complexion. All because for us, white is normal and anything else is unacceptable. I am a student at the University of Karachi. It is one of the few universities in our country where international students still choose to study and most of them are from Africa. I know very well that many local students have a racial bias towards these students and use racist terms like ‘kaala’ and ‘habshi’, and African students will testify to this. Whenever they are seen on roads, people start whispering and snickering behind their backs. Our attitude immediately changes towards them. So, are we still not going to recognise racism as our collective problem? Being the captain of the Pakistan team and representing us internationally, Sarfraz should have represented himself and his country better. His comments while embarrassing also point towards our racist tendencies. Since the news came out, he has apologised for his comments; however, his apology is meek. It seems that he is more sorry for being caught passing racist slurs than actually feeling remorse for saying them. https://twitter.com/SarfarazA_54/status/1088100753208758272 https://twitter.com/SarfarazA_54/status/1088100807839498242 https://twitter.com/SarfarazA_54/status/1088100861534978049 We deny being racist because like many of our other problems, it’s something we don’t want to acknowledge and that saves us from the onerous task of addressing it. But things need to change. Saying that we are not racist, while time and again proving the contrary, is not going to solve the problem at hand. We should start at home. All the condescending terms should be eschewed. People shouldn’t be called by any names other than their real names or ones they identify themselves as. No distinct feature should be a reason for mocking anyone. Parents should teach their children to embrace the differences in a respected manner. They should be taught that there are people who might look a bit different than them but that shouldn’t be a reason to be disrespectful towards them. We must stop considering these snide terms as harmless because they are not.
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