Living to tell the story, against all odds
The region has been difficult, unpredictable and more prone to natural disasters, making job of reporter all difficult
The region has been difficult, unpredictable and more prone to natural disasters, making job of reporter all difficult. PHOTO COURTESY: JOE FOR AMERICA
PESHAWAR:
It was a sweltering night of June back in 2011. The sound of an
explosion broke the silence of Peshawar’s Khyber Supermarket.
I left my apartment to enquire the nature of the blast, which had
taken place at a local restaurant. An injured employee of the
eatery told me it was caused by a gas cylinder. Relieved it was
not a terror attack, I returned to my apartment, only to be jolted
by another ear-piercing sound. The lights went out and shrieks engulfed the stiff night air. Around 50 people, including journalists,
were killed in the deadly blast. Welcome to a reporter’s world in
Peshawar.
Life here is punctuated with such narrow encounters with death
and a mad race to stay in touch with cataclysmic happenings.
I was the first staffer to join The Express Tribune in Peshawar as a
reporter back in March 2010, the publication’s only reporter in
the city to cover the Northwest in the midst of a nerve-wracking
insurgency.
So dreadful was the situation that I heard a fellow journalist from
Swat introducing himself at a security workshop in Karachi back
in 2011 saying, “I am [so and so] from Swat and have covered
40 suicide attacks.”
I traveled across the province and tribal belt to cover stories of human suffering and valour in the face of adversity. However, a trip to Shah Hassan Khel village of Lakki Marwat on the New Year’s Eve of 2010 was one experience I wasn’t prepared for.
The village had lost most its youth to a devastating suicide attack
targeting a volleyball match. I still can’t forget the deserted look of
the besieged town, haunted by memories of its dead young sons.
The next day, the editor personally called me to appreciate the
story.
It was not until two years later that I was joined by other colleagues
at the Peshawar office and the city got its own edition. Despite a bunch of relatively young and inexperienced staff, the
newspaper’s coverage of the region was impressive—even when
compared to its well-entrenched competitors.
The region has always been difficult, unpredictable and more
prone to natural disasters, which makes the job of a reporter all
the more difficult.
Take the last decade and a half. It leaves you in awe of the mind
boggling tapestry of events. From the Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal’s
landslide victory in the 2002 polls, followed by the deadly 2005
earthquake, a decade-long insurgency, floods in 2010, killing
of Osama bin Laden, to the brutal massacre of schoolchildren in
the Army Public School attack last year. These unfortunate series
of events also make the region one of the most happening in the
world. Explaining what is happening and why is itself a difficult
job, but it’s worth the effort. And this is probably why we are still
doing our bit as journalists, against all odds.
It was a sweltering night of June back in 2011. The sound of an
explosion broke the silence of Peshawar’s Khyber Supermarket.
I left my apartment to enquire the nature of the blast, which had
taken place at a local restaurant. An injured employee of the
eatery told me it was caused by a gas cylinder. Relieved it was
not a terror attack, I returned to my apartment, only to be jolted
by another ear-piercing sound. The lights went out and shrieks engulfed the stiff night air. Around 50 people, including journalists,
were killed in the deadly blast. Welcome to a reporter’s world in
Peshawar.
Life here is punctuated with such narrow encounters with death
and a mad race to stay in touch with cataclysmic happenings.
I was the first staffer to join The Express Tribune in Peshawar as a
reporter back in March 2010, the publication’s only reporter in
the city to cover the Northwest in the midst of a nerve-wracking
insurgency.
So dreadful was the situation that I heard a fellow journalist from
Swat introducing himself at a security workshop in Karachi back
in 2011 saying, “I am [so and so] from Swat and have covered
40 suicide attacks.”
I traveled across the province and tribal belt to cover stories of human suffering and valour in the face of adversity. However, a trip to Shah Hassan Khel village of Lakki Marwat on the New Year’s Eve of 2010 was one experience I wasn’t prepared for.
The village had lost most its youth to a devastating suicide attack
targeting a volleyball match. I still can’t forget the deserted look of
the besieged town, haunted by memories of its dead young sons.
The next day, the editor personally called me to appreciate the
story.
It was not until two years later that I was joined by other colleagues
at the Peshawar office and the city got its own edition. Despite a bunch of relatively young and inexperienced staff, the
newspaper’s coverage of the region was impressive—even when
compared to its well-entrenched competitors.
The region has always been difficult, unpredictable and more
prone to natural disasters, which makes the job of a reporter all
the more difficult.
Take the last decade and a half. It leaves you in awe of the mind
boggling tapestry of events. From the Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal’s
landslide victory in the 2002 polls, followed by the deadly 2005
earthquake, a decade-long insurgency, floods in 2010, killing
of Osama bin Laden, to the brutal massacre of schoolchildren in
the Army Public School attack last year. These unfortunate series
of events also make the region one of the most happening in the
world. Explaining what is happening and why is itself a difficult
job, but it’s worth the effort. And this is probably why we are still
doing our bit as journalists, against all odds.