Peshawar: A tragedy-struck but courageous city

The city has seen countless funerals of victims of suicide blasts and other acts of terrorism, in which flowers were showered on the deceased’s bodies. This, however, was the first time its residents, and indeed the world, saw grief in the form of a ‘funeral of flowers’, which took place in nearly every part of the city following the brutal attack on the Army Public School on December 16 which claimed the lives of around 132 children aged between six and 16.

Had this been any other city, its inhabitants would have demanded the government to construct a wall around it and prohibit entry without strict checks. Unfortunately, the attack took place in a city that has witnessed so many bomb blasts that its residents have become accustomed to acts of violence.

The city has perhaps offered more funerals than any other; doctors and nurses have treated countless victims, coffin makers have sold more than they would have liked to. The number of people shifted by rescue workers, the number of deceased and injured people making the news: these numbers have not been higher in any other city.

Peshawar has rendered sacrifices throughout history, at every step of the way. From giving shelter to Afghan refugees in the wake of the Soviet war to the internally displaced people from the tribal belt and Swat during military operations, the metropolis has never declined hospitality. We saw 10 blasts in just nine days in 2009, three in one day alone.

There is no part of the city from which a bomb hasn’t ripped through. From markets to the judicial complex to hostels and consulates, every place has seen more than its fair share of misery. After last Tuesday’s attack, the city has been shrouded in uneasy silence. The streets are deserted; it appears that every person in the city has lost a family member, and in a way they have. The devastating incident has jolted the whole world. Whoever went inside the school’s premises after the attack felt a surge of emotions. The scattered remains of the deceased and injured students was something no one could bear to look at. I saw journalists, medics, rescue workers, military and police personnel, drivers and hospital staff crying as they went about their heart-breaking jobs.

But even with broken hearts, the city has found the courage — more than ever — to take revenge from these so-called jihadists. Small children lying on hospital beds and showing the victory sign sends a strong message to these terrorists. They seem to be telling the militants that their actions have only made the students stronger. Those who survived the attack have vowed to go back to school with the same zeal. Such cowardly attacks will not break their spirits. Rather, it will strengthen their sprit. To the terrorists, here come our sons and daughters. Try and stop them.

Published in The Express Tribune, December 24^th, 2014.