Daily Times

My heart skips a beat or two every time I enter Lyallpur, which is incorrectly named Faisalabad for a very good reason; I have tons of fond childhood and youthful memories associated with this city. Be it the rising dust from our grandfather’s car on a dirt road being chased by village kids and stray dogs, or the serenity of the imposing mango trees of his orchard known as “doctoran da bagh.” It was located in Sant Singh Wala, Chak 207 GB, and named after my father and his three brothers, who held doctorate degrees in their particular fields.

It was a good start to have a rural background and English schooling under strict Irish priests in Burn Hall, Abbottabad. I developed an understanding and empathy for both ways of life that separate our nation: the haves and the have-nots. We were never rich, yet we were comfortable and secure. The joy of open fields and fresh air still enriches my soul nearly seven decades later. That was the feeling when commuting between Lahore and Lyallpur on the old Sheikhupura Road. It felt the same on the highway until we entered the city, where “following traffic laws” is as dangerous as committing blasphemy.

I was accompanied by Afzal Ghauri, my alter-ego, and my two nieces, Momina and Mahnoor Khayal, both High Court lawyers. We walked down Jail Road to the Agricultural University’s main entrance. I had a flashback of Pipal’s tree-lined main entrance, so calm and serene, a precursor to entering a great seat of learning. I lived there with my father, Dr Abdul Hameed Khan, who had retired as director of advanced studies after years of guiding PhD students who should now be senior professors.

The question is who in the past 75 years stood up to forces of status quo that protect the gut-eating power elite? Who has fought this battle of attrition for the people of Pakistan spanning nearly 27 years to break out of this stranglehold? Pakistanis have realized this and bought into this dream. I am convinced that people will prevail. For this herculean task, who is better equipped than Imran Khan?

I was there to assist my nieces, who are young and bright lawyers, reclaim their late father’s property that their paternal uncles usurped illegally through forgery and fraud. I got the assistance of friends to gain access to the concerned officials. We were well received and were able to get to the concerned department head. He called for the case file, and a quick review revealed the ugly side of our corrupt, lethargic, and dysfunctional bureaucracy.

My nieces’ case is ironclad. Forgery and fraudulent transfer of title are completely documented. This crime was committed with the connivance of crooked officials. Yet despite being lawyers, my nieces had been running from pillar to post for the last three years without any substantive results. The blockage was through the “baboo mafia” which really controls the operations of our broken governments’ bureaucracies. They rake in tons of money by fleecing millions of citizens who cannot access the insulated “brown sahibs” that replaced the British rulers. I narrated this case because it is a microcosm of the harsh reality that prevails at all tiers of our governance.

The Greek philosopher Plato’s saying came to mind. “No one is more hated than he who speaks the truth,” according to a quote recently shared by my friend Masood Ijaz, whom we affectionately refer to as “Nikoo.” I plead guilty to this charge. Stating the truth is embedded in my genes, and I have willingly paid the price for this fault of mine. However, I sleep well and can look people in the eye. Within this life, Allah has rewarded me with peace of mind, a loving family, and a comfortable life. Nearly twenty-seven years ago when I threw in my lot with PTI and Imran Khan, along with my late friend Ahsan Rashid and a few others; we were driven by the need for reform in this beleaguered nation. After a quarter century, that resolve has only deepened. This country is ruled by corrupt mafias in every sector of society, united by a common goal of greed; nation be damned.

As a student of societal behaviour, I see a very strong paradox that runs throughout our system of governance. Those who are honest are meek, cautious, and risk-averse. It makes them inefficient. The bright ones who deliver have also come to realize that morality is dead and the laws are unenforceable. Hence, they deliver, but not before extracting their pound of flesh. Honest officials, like the one we met, who can deliver, are withering away. They need to be valued. Out of more than 225 million Pakistanis less than 1% control all the levers of wealth, and power and control the destiny of this nation. Their absolute control has gone unchallenged for decades. We have experimented with so-called democracy, dictatorship, and a combo of both. The rulers, rather than giving respite to the 99% of citizens, have only reinforced the 1% mafia. Individuals continue to be stronger than the system.

In this darkened horizon Patrick Lawrence, a prominent sociologist, words ring loudly. Reality seen through the prism of logic leads to “pessimism of the mind.” To get out of this quagmire, he goes on to emphasize that “optimism of the will” is the sole way out. That “will” to fight back has been personified through the present struggle being conducted by Imran Khan. My comment is based on merit and not because I have a bias.

The question is who in the past 75 years stood up to forces of status quo that protect the gut-eating power elite? Who has fought this battle of attrition for the people of Pakistan spanning nearly 27 years to break out of this stranglehold? Pakistanis have realized this and bought into this dream. I am convinced that people will prevail. For this herculean task, who is better equipped than Imran Khan?

The writer is the director of CERF, a non-profit, charitable organisation in Canada.