We live in an age where showing outrage on social media and passing around links for petitions sum up our efforts to affect change. We console ourselves by attending demos or putting photos up on Instagram and Facebook, then sleeping soundly because we have done our bit. And yet here I am, unable to do anything other than to write about it on an online platform. Shall I call it irony or hypocrisy?
There will never be justice for children like Zainab, or Zeenat who has burned alive by her mother, or the millions of unreported children, and women, and elderly (because these twisted inbreds don’t consider the age or even species of their victim). There will never be justice, sadly, for all of those victims who are kidnapped, raped, abused, and murdered on a daily basis across the world. There is no such thing as justice. At least not in this lifetime.
I wonder what the founders of Pakistan would think today about the pak sar zameen they so diligently worked and sacrificed for. This is what they envisioned, no? A land where Muslims would be free from subjugation and slavery, to live by the declaration La ilaha il Allah, and to do so by committing every single act of sin that vehemently opposes this sentence. We were freed from the shackles of slavery to become slaves of a different kind.
Sometimes I feel as though I have a huge problem: maybe I am too critical of Pakistan and Pakistanis and God knows I write about male privilege all the damn time. I think perhaps my upbringing in a tight-knit Pakistani community, my relatives, this emotional baggage, all of it has scarred me for life. Then a reminder like this blasts me back to my senses and I realise that no, I am not the one with the problem.
Village heads who see to it that an ignorant and backward ideology about the place of women and the privileges afforded to men is maintained: you are the problem. When you see to it that a woman is raped or made to walk naked through a village, for the crimes of her father or brother, you are strengthening the problem.
Pakistani mothers who mollycoddle their sons and fail to provide a proper Islamic upbringing to both genders: you are the problem. When you are pregnant and you buy talismans and go to peer fakirs to pray for a boy and view your daughters as a burden, you are perpetuating the problem.
And every time one of you maa k laadle, good-for-nothing products of male privilege says, “Yaar bachi check kar,” you are a problem. Your entire thought process is a problem.
A police system that looks to grease its palms thereby allowing innocent children to continue to be abducted and raped on their watch: you are the problem.
Our ‘modern’ and ‘liberal’ Pakistani actors and actresses and TV anchors who so brilliantly divide their professional and private lives and who are the first to condemn crimes like this, I have news for you my dears: you are an immense part of the problem!
The country’s leaders who are all busy thinking of savage one-liners for one another: your inefficiency and inability to lead a country plummeting to new depths of degeneracy is a major problem.
I could go on for days. Sometimes, it eats me up inside thinking about whether or not I really want to bring my daughters into this world: a world where there is no justice.