Remembering simpler times with Ma'am Tahira Qazi and Sir Saeed

The Army Public School originally had a single branch on Mall Road Peshawar, near the PTV station. During the mid-1990s, two more branches opened up – one near the old Mall Road branch and the second where December 16^th’s tragedy took place, on Warsak Road.

We used to call it the Army Public College, not school, because it was from the sixth grade onwards; so it was for the ‘big boys’, and it had become a degree-awarding college as well.

I started going to the ‘college’ in 1997. Sir Saeed was one of the first teachers I had. I was in the sixth grade; 6-B to be exact. He used to teach us Islamiat. Although fairly good at studies, I often did end up getting a fair bit of corporal punishment for one reason or another. My quota of beatings started with Sir Saeed’s slap. Being the first few days in the college, I was a bit shaken; I complained. Little did I know that the man had a heart of gold, he apologised and became a friend. I realised that he was an extremely decent, soft spoken and humble person.

Sir Saeed. Photo: Nauman Shah

Sir Nawab Ali became our Mathematics teacher when I moved to the ninth grade in 2000. I wasn’t really fond of him back then. He had a really hefty hand and he made us get our test scores signed by our dads if we had a score of less than five (out of 10). As luck would have it, I mostly scored a zero in his tests. He was a man of few words but a very dedicated and hardworking teacher.

But things were simpler back then. The only thing a kid had to worry about was a slap on the back or a zero on a Math test.

(From Left, in red circles) Sir Nawab Ali, Sir Saeed, Sir Zulfiqar, Ma'am Tahira Qazi, Ma'am Shahnaz. Photo: Nauman Shah

Ma’am Tahira Qazi wasn’t the principal when I was at the Army Public School. She used to teach English to undergraduate students, back in they year 2000 when the college started a Bachelors programme. An elegant and graceful woman, always speaking in perfect English, in a voice I still remember vividly, she reminded me of Shaista Zaid of PTV’s English news fame.

Tahira Qazi. Photo: File

These teachers are no more... in addition to many others whom I never had the fortune of knowing very well. Every one of them died or was grievously injured saving those children.

The school had a huge auditorium. It was our pride and joy and we boasted about it being the largest one in Peshawar, if not in Pakistan. We used to have a literary or dramatic event every Thursday in that auditorium.

However, on the 16^th, the same place hosted a blood bath. On the 16^th, that place which was a safe haven for us students turned into a slaughter house. On the 16^th, we lost many brilliant teachers and bright students. On the 16^th, every Peshawarite died a little inside.

If this tragedy doesn’t make us change our ways, I don’t think anything else ever will.