Our courageous children
The children of APS showed us the courage that it takes to move on
The pictures of children smiling as they went to school were both heartening and heartbreaking, and as a country we can be proud of their courage. PHOTO: AFP
It is time for the children of Peshawar to be brave again. And so brave they were, the students of the Army Public School (APS) in Peshawar on January 12, their first day back after it shut down following the carnage that killed more than 140 people on December 16. As students walked in through the metal detectors to enter the school premises, they were no longer just students; they were survivors of that nightmarish day.
The school that the children so bravely went to will now also be forever remembered as the school where children lay dead, lay slaughtered, where teachers could not be given a final farewell because hurried burials were necessary, where for days and months and longer children will recount the horrors of arguably one of the greatest tragedies this country has seen. At this time, we must also remember the children who would not have made it to school on January 12; those who are still injured, and whose wounds may never allow them to forget the tragedy that struck.
The pictures of children smiling as they went to school were both heartening and heartbreaking, and as a country we can be proud of their courage. But beyond the smiles are some terrible, forever-wounding truths. Truth that the worst has happened, that memories of school projects and sports days will now be overshadowed by memories of best friends killed, of playing dead when you are the only one left to play. Pakistan has taken pride in the courage of its children for far too long. Finding solace in children’s bravery, from Malala Yousufzai to Aitzaz Hasan, to the 132 whose names we will not remember, is an escape too easy.
The children of APS showed us the courage that it takes to move on. It is no longer enough to be just proud of our children; it is no longer okay to support them with hollow slogans and promises of bravery awards. It is time Pakistan’s adult population, its civil and military leadership, also has the courage to take ownership of their countless failings. Going to school should never again be an act of bravery.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 14th, 2015.
The school that the children so bravely went to will now also be forever remembered as the school where children lay dead, lay slaughtered, where teachers could not be given a final farewell because hurried burials were necessary, where for days and months and longer children will recount the horrors of arguably one of the greatest tragedies this country has seen. At this time, we must also remember the children who would not have made it to school on January 12; those who are still injured, and whose wounds may never allow them to forget the tragedy that struck.
The pictures of children smiling as they went to school were both heartening and heartbreaking, and as a country we can be proud of their courage. But beyond the smiles are some terrible, forever-wounding truths. Truth that the worst has happened, that memories of school projects and sports days will now be overshadowed by memories of best friends killed, of playing dead when you are the only one left to play. Pakistan has taken pride in the courage of its children for far too long. Finding solace in children’s bravery, from Malala Yousufzai to Aitzaz Hasan, to the 132 whose names we will not remember, is an escape too easy.
The children of APS showed us the courage that it takes to move on. It is no longer enough to be just proud of our children; it is no longer okay to support them with hollow slogans and promises of bravery awards. It is time Pakistan’s adult population, its civil and military leadership, also has the courage to take ownership of their countless failings. Going to school should never again be an act of bravery.
Published in The Express Tribune, January 14th, 2015.