Undeterred spirit: Tenth-grade survivor returns to smaller class
Hammad Afridi says massacre in the auditorium was over in 15 minutes
Speaking about security provisions at the school before the attack, Afridi said there was a checkpoint at the back wall and the soldiers manning it slept in the basement. PHOTO: INP
PESHAWAR:
Tenth-grader Hammad Afridi is among the dozens of students who were fortunate enough to make it out of Army Public School’s (APS) auditorium alive on that ill-fated December 16.
His life and his class, 10-B, will never be the same again. However, the brave teenager remains undeterred. When the APS opened its gates on Monday after an extended winter break, Afridi was patiently waiting outside to get back to school and resume his classes.
“Our class would be short of 10 students today because seven of my classmates died while three were injured,” Afridi who had come to school accompanied by his father told The Express Tribune.
Afridi knows he is lucky to have survived the massacre and feels the loss of this class fellows and schoolmates deeply. “The world is not like it used to be before December 16,” he said.
The view from within
Fifteen minutes is all it took for militants to turn the once bustling auditorium into a hall of death, said Afridi, while recalling the chilling events of that day.
“I was sitting in the fifth row that unfortunate Tuesday,” Afridi said. “There were at least 400 students in the auditorium, all from grades eight through 10. When the firing started our teachers locked eight of the hall’s nine doors.”
According to Afridi, the terrorists broke down one of the locked doors, entered the hall and began firing indiscriminately. Most of the students tried to escape and ran to the doors, but they were hit by bullets and died.
However, the teenager and his friends Hammad Khattak and Arbab Shujat Ahmad did not try to run out. They followed the drills they had been taught in school and laid down on the ground without moving.
“There were probably four attackers wearing camouflage-patterned ammunition vests worn by the security forces, while their faces were covered by a white cloth,” Afridi recalled.
Refuting media reports of how the shooters separated some students and had an altercation with teachers, Afridi said the militants fired at every living person in the hall. “I heard one of them say just one word when they entered, Odrega, which is Pashto for stop.”
According to Afridi, when he saw pictures of the piles of bodies in the auditorium after the attack, he immediately recognised them. “The children tried to escape through the exits. But the militants kept shooting and boys kept falling on top of each other.”
After satisfying their bloodlust for some 15 minutes, the attackers headed off to the rest of the school. Afridi remained on the ground quietly for five long minutes which felt like hell to him. When he had summoned enough courage, he raised his head and upon seeing no one there except for the dead, he crept out of the hall.
“My brother is in grade seven so I went looking for him. I came across a classroom where the teacher had hidden many students but there was no space for another person to hide,” he said. Afridi kept moving and finally made it to the grade seven classroom where he found his brother and classmates safe. “We hid there for an hour and were evacuated when the army arrived.”
Speaking about security provisions at the school before the attack, Afridi said there was a checkpoint at the back wall and the soldiers manning it slept in the basement. “However, the basement was turned into a library and guards were forced out of the school building. Militants used the very same back wall to enter the school,” he said.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 13th, 2015.
Tenth-grader Hammad Afridi is among the dozens of students who were fortunate enough to make it out of Army Public School’s (APS) auditorium alive on that ill-fated December 16.
His life and his class, 10-B, will never be the same again. However, the brave teenager remains undeterred. When the APS opened its gates on Monday after an extended winter break, Afridi was patiently waiting outside to get back to school and resume his classes.
“Our class would be short of 10 students today because seven of my classmates died while three were injured,” Afridi who had come to school accompanied by his father told The Express Tribune.
Afridi knows he is lucky to have survived the massacre and feels the loss of this class fellows and schoolmates deeply. “The world is not like it used to be before December 16,” he said.
The view from within
Fifteen minutes is all it took for militants to turn the once bustling auditorium into a hall of death, said Afridi, while recalling the chilling events of that day.
“I was sitting in the fifth row that unfortunate Tuesday,” Afridi said. “There were at least 400 students in the auditorium, all from grades eight through 10. When the firing started our teachers locked eight of the hall’s nine doors.”
According to Afridi, the terrorists broke down one of the locked doors, entered the hall and began firing indiscriminately. Most of the students tried to escape and ran to the doors, but they were hit by bullets and died.
However, the teenager and his friends Hammad Khattak and Arbab Shujat Ahmad did not try to run out. They followed the drills they had been taught in school and laid down on the ground without moving.
“There were probably four attackers wearing camouflage-patterned ammunition vests worn by the security forces, while their faces were covered by a white cloth,” Afridi recalled.
Refuting media reports of how the shooters separated some students and had an altercation with teachers, Afridi said the militants fired at every living person in the hall. “I heard one of them say just one word when they entered, Odrega, which is Pashto for stop.”
According to Afridi, when he saw pictures of the piles of bodies in the auditorium after the attack, he immediately recognised them. “The children tried to escape through the exits. But the militants kept shooting and boys kept falling on top of each other.”
After satisfying their bloodlust for some 15 minutes, the attackers headed off to the rest of the school. Afridi remained on the ground quietly for five long minutes which felt like hell to him. When he had summoned enough courage, he raised his head and upon seeing no one there except for the dead, he crept out of the hall.
“My brother is in grade seven so I went looking for him. I came across a classroom where the teacher had hidden many students but there was no space for another person to hide,” he said. Afridi kept moving and finally made it to the grade seven classroom where he found his brother and classmates safe. “We hid there for an hour and were evacuated when the army arrived.”
Speaking about security provisions at the school before the attack, Afridi said there was a checkpoint at the back wall and the soldiers manning it slept in the basement. “However, the basement was turned into a library and guards were forced out of the school building. Militants used the very same back wall to enter the school,” he said.
*Interview taken after taking permission from Hammad Afridi’s guardian
Published in The Express Tribune, January 13th, 2015.