It was Sunday evening, just before sunset, when having tea at a relative’s home I noticed an unusual helicopter flight near the premises. Usually on Sundays you do not see helicopters unless a VIP visit is happening. We started discussing who might be travelling at that time, that too on a holiday.
After two hours, I received a call from a friend who gave me the devastating news of the death of Balochistan’s solo rock climber Imran Ali Hussaini, whom we both had met for tea last year. My brain could not accept it, and I asked him the source of the news; he told me about the social media page where the news had been published. The news was posted with a voiceover of Hussaini’s death, showing a helicopter moving his body from the mountains, the same helicopter that I had seen earlier, and I had gotten curious about the purpose of its flight at that time.
To many of you, the news of his death might have been your introduction to Imran Ali Hussaini, just like we recognized Muhammad Ali Sadpara after he got stuck in the mountains. Atif Aslam rightly said that we make heroes of people when they are gone. Hussaini, the 38-year-old employee of a private hotel in Quetta, the solo rock climber of Balochistan, and to my knowledge, of Pakistan, was a fearless human being as the sport that he chose spoke for itself. I still remember that during our meeting in September 2021, he spoke about his ambitions related to rock climbing, his plans to conquer the highest peaks of Pakistan and then some foreign expeditions. The memory of a quiet person who seemed to be focused on what he was speaking as he related his climbing experiences is still fresh in my mind.
Among extreme sports, rock climbing is one of its toughest and dangerous form. Unlike mountaineering, this sport might not be as exciting as it appears to be in movies or documentaries. Last year, mountain climbing was in news when our legend Muhammad Ali Sadpara passed away while guiding two international mountaineers, but there are and were some unsung heroes whose achievements, if given some exposure, could make a name for Pakistan.
Living close to the mountains, Hussaini started climbing when he was in class eighth—an age when you are not old enough to know much about things around you, or things in your life seem positive to you, and you like challenges and are not scared of your environment. When Hussaini began to climb rocks, his family was probably not even aware of his activities.
Hussaini’s death was a shock to all those who knew him, especially his friends and colleagues. In our telephonic conversation a day after Hussaini’s death, Raza, one of his friends, said: “Imran was my childhood friend. We started hiking and going on expeditions in our teen years. Death and fear were not in his dictionary. His family and close friends were always concerned about his rock-climbing hobby. When I got married a few years back I stopped going to mountains, but Imran never stopped. I always had this fear in my mind that if anything happened to me, who would take care of my family. Imran used to invite me to join him whenever he attempted a new place, but I would find excuses to not go. Rock climbing is a very dangerous sport, and I wanted to discourage him so that he stopped. My concern was just like someone cares for their dear ones.”
Raza continued: “We both joined the Anti-Terrorism Force (ATF) in 2010; Imran passed all the physical tests with top positions. Everyone in the selection team was amazed to see such a gifted athlete. A few officers even said that they were happy to see such a great talent becoming part of their force. However, Imran left the ATF after one year as he was passionate about becoming an SSG commando, and ATF was not the same experience. Our mutual friends told me that one day Imran took thirty consecutive rounds of the polo ground in the cantonment area of Quetta, almost one kilometre per round. They said that he is not a human! And they even tried to break his record but the maximum anyone could achieve was sixteen rounds.”
Raza expressed deep sorrow as he remembered his friend: “The day before Imran passed away, he messaged me. As we had not been in touch for a while, he asked me to join him for a cup of coffee; he told me that the next day he was going for a climbing expedition for a documentary shoot. I couldn’t meet him because I was busy with a [death-related] mourning in our family. The news of his death will not pain me for the rest of my life.”
Another close friend of Hussaini, Mohsin Paracha, Focal Person to Balochistan’s Minister for Culture, Tourism, Archives, Sports and Youth Affairs, said: “Imran was amazing. I still remember the first time I met him a few years ago in the sports minister’s office where he had come to request for a sponsorship for climbing Mount Everest. His dreams were so big a normal human is not even capable of imagining them. A few days ago, he called me to tell me that he had applied for a K-2 expedition and had requested Chief Secretary of Balochistan and the Ministry of Sports to sponsor him three million rupees. Someone from his personal contacts had promised to sponsor some amount, and he called me to help him further. The government is not to be blamed completely as the sports Imran had chosen were unique and unfamiliar to most people. There is not much following of adventure and extreme sports in our country, and Imran was aware of that.”
Paracha continued: “I feel Imran went too early. He never seemed to lose hope. He kept requesting people around him and government officials to just give him one chance. I had seen his talent while shooting a documentary for our tourism department. Believe me, during the drone video shoot my heart kept sinking as Imran confidently climbed on a plain mountain. His confidence was commendable and energy level up to the sky.”
Hussaini had volunteered his name and number to local mountaineers and rock climbers for any kind of emergency rescue during rock climbing. He had rescued many mountaineers who got stuck in mountains in his area. Once a boy from Hussaini’s neighbourhood fell down a hole inside a mountain. Fortunately, his younger brother was with him, and he called Hussaini to rescue his brother. Hussaini went down the hole with his ropes and rescued the boy.
Raza, Hussain’s friend, said: “Imran had put on some extra kilos during his weightlifting routine, which I think was not suitable for rock climbing. His companions on the climb told me that he was struggling a bit in moving further up after already climbing eighty feet in the scorching heat. He wanted to rest for a little when he saw a space where he could land his feet and stand for a few seconds. Unfortunately, while attempting to jump to that place, Imran fell. He probably broke all his bones as he fell and passed away on impact immediately.”
Raza added with a great deal of pain: “Imran’s courage was so much that even while he was falling down, he did not make any sound of fear or for help. I asked his companions if he said something; we often hear stories of something strange coming from a person before they pass away. Imran was a man of few words, and he went away silently. He was quiet like the mountains he climbed, and he will always remain in the mountains for us.”
Movies like Free Solo, The Dawn Wall and Valley Uprising have all been supported by brands and received a huge affirmation, but shockingly, rock climbers in Pakistan will continue to suffer due to a lack of required resources and interest, both from government and the private sector.
Perhaps with Hussaini’s death, more attention will be given to extreme sports, but we as a nation truly need to appreciate and encourage people like Hussaini during their lifetime. Once in decades there is an exceptional person who makes us proud with their unique abilities and achievements. Imran Ali Hussaini will always be in our memories as an unsung hero. We wish that our government could present a token of appreciation to his family to reassure them that Hussaini’s bravery and feats were commendable, and that he had achieved so much that most of us can’t even dream of.