Tales from the sidewalk: The child who grew up too soon
Forced to abandon their house by gangsters, this mother-daughter duo refuses to give up on life
Laiba, 11, and her mother have been living on the sidewalk outside Karachi Press Club for the last seven months after they were forced to abandon their house Lyari gangsters. PHOTO: ATHAR KHAN/EXPRESS
KARACHI:
Each morning, she goes to school. Every afternoon, she joins her mother, Fatima, at the protest camp on the footpath outside Karachi Press Club (KPC). Her evenings are spent doing her homework. The mother-daughter duo has been living in the makeshift tent for the last seven months.
At her tender age, 11-year-old Laiba Ali has seen life the way no other child deserves to. “Two weeks ago, I appeared for my grade two exams. The results are to be announced on April 6,” she says, as she turns to look at her mother who is cooking their evening meal on the make-shift stove.
“I had a lot of friends when we used to live in our house in Nawabad, Shah Waliullah Road, Lyari. But the bad men came to our home, took away our all belongings and forced us to leave the area,” she says nonchalantly, referring to members of the gang led by Wasi Lakho, a notorious criminal who is wanted by the police in several cases of crime.
The then IG, Iqbal Mehmood, recalled a woman from Lyari had once met him and he had ordered the police to address her grievances. Soon after this, he was transferred. “Till my transfer, the woman did not return. I have no idea if she received the relief or not.”
In Lyari, Laiba’s life was anything but comfortable. Yet she had a roof over her head, attended a private school and had lots of friends to play with. It is the latter she misses the most. He father, a drug addict, was almost an absent figure in her life. Yet the mother and daughter made do with what little they had. Life wasn’t perfect but they still had plenty of reasons to be grateful for.
But then the gangsters took over. Initially, they took refuge in a relative’s house in the same area. The situation took a turn for the worse when Fatima registered a complaint with the then police IG, who ordered strict action against the criminals and for the property to be handed back to them. The police raided the house. Lakho’s aides hit back with full force, launching several attacks against the family.
Helpless, the mother and daughter were forced to leave the area. They set up camp in front of a Rangers picket near the ICI Bridge. “The Rangers personnel asked us to leave due to the frequent clashes between the gangsters and the police,” recalls Fatima. “They suggested us to take our camp outside KPC.” She heeded their advice, hoping someone would notice their condition and take pity on them. No one has.
Not giving up yet
Despite their ordeal, Fatima and Laiba have refused to give up hope. Fatima’s main priority is her child’s education. As soon as she set up camp outside KPC, she started looking for schools in the vicinity. “Someone advised me to enroll Laiba in the government school adjacent to Governor House.” Initially, the school administration was reluctant to admit her. Fatima’s persistence, however, finally paid off and the headmistress allowed her to appear for the entry test. Laiba passed with flying colours. “All this happened last Ramazan and we have been living in this camp since,” says Fatima.
At the dingy, cluttered camp that Laiba has come to call home, she proudly shows her school books and her test results that she has aced. She wants to become a lawyer. “It is my mother’s wish that I become an advocate to plead the cases of the poor,” says the young girl. She has even purchased a second-hand lamp from the market to study during the night. “I cannot sleep properly on the footpath and the protests disturb my studies,” she laments.
Safety concerns
Even more than her studies, however, Fatima is scared for their safety. One night, two disabled persons from a nearby protest camp entered their tent and tried to harass them. The mother screamed for help and ran out to seek assistance from the employees of a nearby petrol pump. “The next morning I had to appear for my mathematics paper, which did not go very well,” she says sadly. They have now purchased a shape-edged knife that they keep under the pillow to protect themselves.
Laiba misses her home. She misses her friends. She misses having a roof over her head and not being scared in the middle of the night. But most of all, she misses humanity; for no human would remain unmoved after seeing her plight.
Published in The Express Tribune, April 1st, 2015.
Each morning, she goes to school. Every afternoon, she joins her mother, Fatima, at the protest camp on the footpath outside Karachi Press Club (KPC). Her evenings are spent doing her homework. The mother-daughter duo has been living in the makeshift tent for the last seven months.
At her tender age, 11-year-old Laiba Ali has seen life the way no other child deserves to. “Two weeks ago, I appeared for my grade two exams. The results are to be announced on April 6,” she says, as she turns to look at her mother who is cooking their evening meal on the make-shift stove.
“I had a lot of friends when we used to live in our house in Nawabad, Shah Waliullah Road, Lyari. But the bad men came to our home, took away our all belongings and forced us to leave the area,” she says nonchalantly, referring to members of the gang led by Wasi Lakho, a notorious criminal who is wanted by the police in several cases of crime.
The then IG, Iqbal Mehmood, recalled a woman from Lyari had once met him and he had ordered the police to address her grievances. Soon after this, he was transferred. “Till my transfer, the woman did not return. I have no idea if she received the relief or not.”
In Lyari, Laiba’s life was anything but comfortable. Yet she had a roof over her head, attended a private school and had lots of friends to play with. It is the latter she misses the most. He father, a drug addict, was almost an absent figure in her life. Yet the mother and daughter made do with what little they had. Life wasn’t perfect but they still had plenty of reasons to be grateful for.
But then the gangsters took over. Initially, they took refuge in a relative’s house in the same area. The situation took a turn for the worse when Fatima registered a complaint with the then police IG, who ordered strict action against the criminals and for the property to be handed back to them. The police raided the house. Lakho’s aides hit back with full force, launching several attacks against the family.
Helpless, the mother and daughter were forced to leave the area. They set up camp in front of a Rangers picket near the ICI Bridge. “The Rangers personnel asked us to leave due to the frequent clashes between the gangsters and the police,” recalls Fatima. “They suggested us to take our camp outside KPC.” She heeded their advice, hoping someone would notice their condition and take pity on them. No one has.
Not giving up yet
Despite their ordeal, Fatima and Laiba have refused to give up hope. Fatima’s main priority is her child’s education. As soon as she set up camp outside KPC, she started looking for schools in the vicinity. “Someone advised me to enroll Laiba in the government school adjacent to Governor House.” Initially, the school administration was reluctant to admit her. Fatima’s persistence, however, finally paid off and the headmistress allowed her to appear for the entry test. Laiba passed with flying colours. “All this happened last Ramazan and we have been living in this camp since,” says Fatima.
At the dingy, cluttered camp that Laiba has come to call home, she proudly shows her school books and her test results that she has aced. She wants to become a lawyer. “It is my mother’s wish that I become an advocate to plead the cases of the poor,” says the young girl. She has even purchased a second-hand lamp from the market to study during the night. “I cannot sleep properly on the footpath and the protests disturb my studies,” she laments.
Safety concerns
Even more than her studies, however, Fatima is scared for their safety. One night, two disabled persons from a nearby protest camp entered their tent and tried to harass them. The mother screamed for help and ran out to seek assistance from the employees of a nearby petrol pump. “The next morning I had to appear for my mathematics paper, which did not go very well,” she says sadly. They have now purchased a shape-edged knife that they keep under the pillow to protect themselves.
Laiba misses her home. She misses her friends. She misses having a roof over her head and not being scared in the middle of the night. But most of all, she misses humanity; for no human would remain unmoved after seeing her plight.
Published in The Express Tribune, April 1st, 2015.