Daily Times

My grandfather was an uneducated leader of his tribe who spent his entire life with a vision of ruling the tribal community through the power of weapons as taught by his mother. In his meeting with the political agent, just a week before his death, his only desire was to get an authority letter (license) to carry a cannon on his vehicle in the area so that he can proudly show his power to not just his people but the tribal elders as well.

He never demanded a school, hospital or a skills training centre. It is not surprising because he did not have that vision beyond “tribes and power.” More importantly, because he never had a chance to visit any other part of the country where he could have observed and learnt from the kinds of demands or the vision, which, for example, Chaudhry has from the DC and the kinds of aspirations that people inculcate in their children.

My father was somewhat lucky to be sent to a school. However, he could not continue after the primary level as there was no middle school available in the entire area. He was considered the “lazy” son of my grandfather who was weak to carry heavy weapons and not brave enough to face challenges in case of a fight with the other tribal elders. He was sent abroad so that he can earn money that can facilitate my grandfather in buying more and more weapons to show his power. My father served as a driver there and while providing the pick and drop service to his boss’s kids to and from school, he always wondered what it would be like to be in a uniform just like those children and continuing studies. Out of curiosity, he sometimes asked those kids what they wanted to achieve in life and what they were hoping to become and the answers were mind-boggling for my father. When the children said they wanted to become a pilot or a scientist or an engineer, my father could not relate and hence identified the gap in the aspiration, hopes and vision that the people outside of his tribal region possessed. He wanted to be one of those with brighter aims and bigger goals, not just for himself but his children, community and the country as well.

Hundreds of thousands of children in the erstwhile FATA still do not have access to quality education

My father was then married to my mother who did not know each other and had never met before they got married. My father though living abroad always instructed my mother to send us to schools so that they can become “officers” one day and can live the life that he started envisioning while interacting with his boss’s children. I started going to a private school where I was taught that maths and science education is important to compete in the modern world. I went to a private school because the state did not fulfil its responsibility for providing quality education. There were no state schools in my area besides the one school that had one room, negligible physical facilities and no teacher. Afterwards, I went to a private university because there was not even a single university in the entire FATA region. The one university that has been announced a few years ago may have a building structure but is still not equipped with the kind of facilities that can ensure the beginning of educational activities in its full swing.

I have seen students develop their personalities and embrace their identities during their college and universities. I failed, and my state failed me completely in that respect. People in Peshawar used to refer to me in words such as “Oye, Kahan se ho? FATA se Ho? Tribal ho? Ilaqa-e-ghair se ho! Acha, qabaili ho!”

These are the words I wish my children never hear. Hundreds of thousands of children in the erstwhile FATA still do not have access to quality education, and the state has failed to provide this basic right to its people in the tribal region of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. According to the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics, 75 per cent of girls are out of school in erstwhile FATA (Newly Merged Districts). People may wonder that it’s the parents who do not want to send them to school but it is not correct. The fact of the matter is that there are not enough schools in the area; wherever there are schools, they do not have teachers in them; if there are schools that have teachers, there are no books or basic facilities. If by chance there is a school equipped with all these facilities, the teachers are probably recruited on political/administrative will and do not have the actual capacity to teach their students. My grandfather, a tribal Malik, was also a beneficiary of this system. Whenever the administration wanted to extract any support out of the community, they used to provide favours and benefits to my grandfather and in return, he would ask the community to do whatever the administration wanted from them.

But, I do not want to follow the footsteps of my grandfather. His vision was confined to his area near the Pak-Afghan border of the country and my vision is inspired by a person working and living in the silicon-valley. But the only difference is, the person in silicon-valley has the rights to make his own life choices and decisions and lead a reasonable life whereas I am still living in the tribal region (erstwhile FATA) where I’m bound to live my life where I still can’t express my thoughts and feelings. I am still waiting for my fundamental freedom of rights. I still do not have freedom of expression. I’m always treated as a person from an unknown area. I still do not have access to education, health, communication and other basic facilities which are easily available to any person living in Lahore, Karachi or Peshawar.

Given these circumstances, any movement or any political party making even a bit of an effort to raise voice for my rights that should have been granted under the constitution already will have my support. I will stand by all such initiatives no matter who is the one raising that voice and who is sponsoring that effort. When I am not strong enough to voice my concerns, I will take advantage of anyone and everyone who tries to raise the issues on my behalf. This is exactly what is happening these days. Thousands of educated youth from erstwhile FATA are supporting The Pashtun Tahafuz Movement (PTM) because the speakers talk of the provision of their fundamental rights. Without knowing who the people behind the Movement are, the youth is benefitting from the opportunity to have their voices and demands heard by the world.

I am a supporter of The Pashtun Tahafuz Movement for a reason. I have always found myself isolated by others in my class, university and even today at my workplace. People sometimes would not talk to me because I am a tribal, they would not include me in the decision-making process, they would not share things with me and in other cases, they would not even hang out with me. I am not a bad looking guy but just because I am from the tribal region, I am present as a black image in the minds of the youth in Islamabad, Lahore and Karachi. Today, the only option that I am left with is to support the PTM because they raise my voice, they demand my fundamental rights from the state. I will continue supporting any movement/party in the country that raises voice for me; no matter if it is Muttahida Qaumi Movement-Pakistan, Pak Sarzamen Party, Balochistan National Party, PML-N or the nascent political party from Balochistan. The only problem is that none of these political parties has ever come forward to listen to my voice and understand my inner feelings. They have been busy for more than 70 years now working on different priorities.

Despite the hope that PTM has helped develop in me, I still feel lost. I do not know if I need to blame my parents for providing me with an education that helps me see the disparity that my people feel or should I blame my state for not providing me with the basic rights. When I stand for my rights, most of the people living in Islamabad, Lahore or Karachi blame me as a foreign agent but the truth is that these people do not even know the ground realities in the tribal region. They do not have an idea what the people of erstwhile FATA had faced during their journey through the war of terror after 9/11.

Today there is a disconnection between my inner soul and me. I cannot sleep for days thinking about the gap that needs to be filled but I do not see a way to help it. Just because I am a tribal person, I was not given my fundamental rights to speak up due to FCR Law. It is a kind request to the state machinery to give me my rights so that I can live a peaceful life and fulfil my dreams just like the person living in Islamabad, just like my batch mates living and working in the Silicon Valley. My tribal people and I might be financially poor, but my vision is as rich as anyone in the world. The only thing that can facilitate this vision is the space and an enabling environment that only the state machinery can ensure.

This is not a narrative of an individual – this is the story of all the youth belonging to erstwhile FATA and studying outside of FATA. Whenever they return to their hometown with bigger and brighter visions, they find themselves sitting in a dark room feeling exhausted by the system. They have degrees, most of the times without a decent job. They have laptops and smartphones but without wifi and 3G or 4G data connectivity. This is no surprise that they have now taken a rather radical route where they do not find it difficult saying “kill me…or give me my rights to achieve my goals.”

The writer is a public policy specialist and a resident of Kurram, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa