We are all dacoits! Aren’t we?

The dacoits of Sindh rule the interior towns and villages. They gained ascendancy in 1984 basically in response to the rise in urban violence. Their hold continued for 10 years. Police and even the army could not contain them.

Have they lost control after 1994, nobody thinks that way. For instance, last month the powerful army officers lost Rs14 million to dacoits right within the precincts of Pannu Aqil cantonment. The government is dependent on their support, the influential in Sukkur believe.

But since the present Sindh Home Minister Zulfikar Mirza  has declared a war on dacoits, they are indeed on the run. Floods have put them in an even tighter spot.

When we sat down on the rilli to interview the dacoit Gul Sher Jageerani, I had heaps of questions in mind. I knew I would hold a decent conversation with the man, whose location means so much, police would pay Rs2 million to know about it. Jageerani is tall and lean, but a man of few words really. His cohorts were more vocal, much to our irritation. Amid all the destruction, Jageerani was clad in pure boski silk shirt, cotton shalwar, broad-soled Baloch chapals and red Sindhi cap. A golden necklace dangled around his neck. He came across as a local pir rather than a notorious highwayman carrying a head-money of Rs2 million.

During our conversation he looked down deep into the floodwater. My cameraman was anxious to start shooting, fidgeting with the buckle of his bag. At last, he opened the bag and out came the camera.

Jageerani looked up and cast his eyes back on the floodwater.

“In 1976 we knew where the floodwater was coming from and when it would strike. But this time we had no idea when the water was upon us. It came from everywhere. Thousands were swept away most of them children. Cattle, grain, rice, nothing was spared,” he said.

“We lost everything. You can’t imagine the losses. We even lost our weapons and ammunition. We are hanging around on these makeshift platforms and don’t know how long will they support us.”

“But why don’t you surrender since you are in a precarious condition living like this?” I asked him.

“Unless the authorities take back the charges against me and my folks, we cannot return to normal life, it’s better to die here rather than beg for food in some relief camp. We are prepared to surrender but the government cannot be trusted,” he replied, adding, “Thousands have already perished in the kachcha, what difference would it make if I died with them.”

“But the government claims less than a hundred lost their lives to the flood” I argued.

“These figures are for the pucca area. Kachcha is a tribal society with no registrations. How would the authorities know how many died in the kachcha when they don’t have their writ here,” he pointed out.

During our conversation, he said, “We are all dacoits in this country.” Highlight of the talk it was, I thought.

“Since you are also a figurehead for people of the kachcha, would you like to help the marooned families?” I asked. Jageerani replied in the affirmative. “I will help the families marooned in the flood although this is the responsibility of the government.”

“The kachcha of Sindh has been swept away and the hideouts of many dacoits have been wiped out, what would be their future strategy,” I inquired.

“They will head for the big cities,” he said.

“Like Karachi?” I asked with a touch of nervousness.

“Yes, like Karachi,” he confirmed.

TO BE CONTINUED

Published in The Express Tribune, August 25^th, 2010.