Who dare cast the first stone?

Organisers doubtful of civil participation in protest against Sialkot lynching are pleasantly surprised

ISLAMABAD: Five young men in orange mesh-vests sat on a bus-stop across the road from Mr Books shop in Super Market around 3pm on Tuesday, working diligently to create posters for a protest. More than 3500 people had confirmed participation in their protest on August 25 through Facebook, but they were not sure how many would actually show up.

“Facebook confirmations normally have a response rate of seven to eight percent, but it is Ramazan and someone changed the time on the group, so…” said Samad Khurram, a Harvard graduate.

The protest was to start at 5pm but someone had changed the time to 4pm on the Facebook page.

These five individuals were soon joined by other friends whom they had called in as reinforcements. And together the lot of them continued writing various messages on the posters- some in Urdu, others in English.

They were determined to go ahead with the protest.

“The numbers don’t matter. We will start at five with whoever shows up,” said Ahmad Azim, another organiser. “We want justice. The culprits should be punished according to the law.”

Hafiz Mueez Butt and Muneeb Butt, two teenagers, were brutally lynched to death in Sialkot on August 15 amid hundreds of onlookers and in the presence of more than 12 on-duty policemen. The mob had accused them of killing two of a family while committing a robbery- a crime for which they were never tried in a court of law.

One single man made his way across the road to see what these young men were up to. He stood beside them and observed. “My six-year-old son told me that if he were superman, he would have flown all the way to Sialkot to save the two teenagers,” he said.

Azim offered the businessman to join in the protest. He stole a glance at the eight friends working on the posters and hesitated, before going back to his shop.

Two young individuals slowly made there way towards the bus-stand. And then a few more came, in small groups of twos and threes.

Mohsin Ali Syed, a student of National University of Modern Languages, had bunked a class to be at the protest. “I saw the [lynching] clip and I couldn’t just do nothing. I had to be a part of something. I had to be here,” he said. “My mother couldn’t stop crying when she saw the clip on TV. I cannot even bring myself to see the uncensored version.”

After about 90 minutes, the preparations were complete and the banners were ready. There were about 30 people on the bus stand. Some more waited outside the Islamabad Press Club- their destination.

The young men in orange looked around, their faces ever-so-slightly drooped at the low turnout.

But it was time and they decided to move.

Ten minutes later, outside the press club, the group started to arrange itself for the protest. A few more came. Some people, who had planned to stage a protest of their own, joined this group instead. Now, a hundred or so protesters had gathered, instead of the 3512 people who had confirmed their participation.

The group waited for the Asr azaan to stop. They arranged and rearranged themselves.

One of the organisers picked up a microphone and announced that they were going to start.

And these hundred people, most of them students and social activists, stood together outside the press club, shoulder-to-shoulder and shouted, amid still and video cameras, with meek voices at first, until a girl in the crowd taunted them to do better.

Hundred people with dried throats, but one aim, answered the call and shouted on top of their voices. The protest lasted for half an hour. They shouted continuously- demanding justice, freedom and action.

Their numbers kept on swelling, with their voices growing louder.

Towards the end, Ahmad Azim looked at the 300 people that had now crammed into that small space outside the press club with a smile on his lips and relief in his eyes.

“It turned out just fine in the end.”

Published in The Express Tribune, August 26^th, 2010.