Four pieces of advice
Perhaps the saddest part is the loss of hope that seems to be prevailing among all social classes
The writer is a Howard Hughes Medical Institute professor of biomedical engineering, international health and medicine at Boston University. He tweets @mhzaman
Far from the markets where tomatoes are Rs15 per kilogram (kg), or where you can get 20kg of peas for a mere Rs100, there is another world — albeit one that is less dramatic and far less colourful. Too bad this is the real one. In this world operate people who have normal jobs, work hard to make ends meet, study with the fading hope that they may move up the social ladder with a decent education and sheer hard work. As someone who does not live in Pakistan, I miss out on a lot. But the opportunity to visit at regular intervals allows me to see things in ways that someone living there may perhaps miss in the day-to-day life. Last week offered me a similar opportunity in Islamabad and Karachi to speak to rickshaw drivers and sabziwalas, restaurant staff, booksellers, nurses and students. Some of the people I spoke to were affluent, others were having the hardest time of their lives. Compared to my last visit a few months ago, the people’s frustration is more palpable. Perhaps the saddest part is the loss of hope that seems to be prevailing among all social classes. I do not claim to have the pulse of the nation or that my sample size is statistically significant — but I do hope that we all get a chance to talk to the people around us, and not let the politicians’ brazen lies shape our world view.
As I spoke to these incredibly kind people — who shared their time and candid assessment with me — there were four pieces of advice they had for the government. I share them here without naming the people, but with an indication of where it came from.
My Uber driver in Islamabad told me he would like the government to remember the people who have suffered. He was extremely unhappy with the way the government dealt with the Sahiwal incident and the train accident near Rahim Yar Khan. There was no accountability of anyone anymore, he felt. Nearly all the promises by the PM before coming to power have long been forgotten. His advice: keep the promise, and remember the poor.
The restaurant worker in Karachi I spoke to thought the government prioritised the party over the country. He felt the government was not for all Pakistanis, but only for PTI workers. There was no longer any merit — it was loyalty above competence. His advice: seek merit, even if it comes from another party.
The student at Aga Khan felt there was no longer any way for a hardworking student to succeed. The top, she felt, was occupied by the same people we have seen before and the youth are losing hope in the future. She also felt that there was no channel for her to share her grievances with those in power. Her advice: listen earnestly to the youth, even if they say things the government does not want to hear.
Perhaps the best advice came from the security guard I spoke to while I waited for my ride. I asked him about his thoughts on the direction of the country. He was troubled by the inflation that was making it harder for him to send his children to school. But he also felt that in the entire political discourse, there was something precious that was being lost. People are no longer willing to solve problems, he said. It is all about revenge. Among all that troubled him, the most serious one was the loss of character and dignity. He said he would expect the leaders would treat everyone, even their political enemies with basic respect. His advice: above all, be a decent human being.
Published in The Express Tribune, November 26th, 2019.
As I spoke to these incredibly kind people — who shared their time and candid assessment with me — there were four pieces of advice they had for the government. I share them here without naming the people, but with an indication of where it came from.
My Uber driver in Islamabad told me he would like the government to remember the people who have suffered. He was extremely unhappy with the way the government dealt with the Sahiwal incident and the train accident near Rahim Yar Khan. There was no accountability of anyone anymore, he felt. Nearly all the promises by the PM before coming to power have long been forgotten. His advice: keep the promise, and remember the poor.
The restaurant worker in Karachi I spoke to thought the government prioritised the party over the country. He felt the government was not for all Pakistanis, but only for PTI workers. There was no longer any merit — it was loyalty above competence. His advice: seek merit, even if it comes from another party.
The student at Aga Khan felt there was no longer any way for a hardworking student to succeed. The top, she felt, was occupied by the same people we have seen before and the youth are losing hope in the future. She also felt that there was no channel for her to share her grievances with those in power. Her advice: listen earnestly to the youth, even if they say things the government does not want to hear.
Perhaps the best advice came from the security guard I spoke to while I waited for my ride. I asked him about his thoughts on the direction of the country. He was troubled by the inflation that was making it harder for him to send his children to school. But he also felt that in the entire political discourse, there was something precious that was being lost. People are no longer willing to solve problems, he said. It is all about revenge. Among all that troubled him, the most serious one was the loss of character and dignity. He said he would expect the leaders would treat everyone, even their political enemies with basic respect. His advice: above all, be a decent human being.
Published in The Express Tribune, November 26th, 2019.