KARACHI: Putting their weaving tools aside, the Uzbek refugees from Afghanistan have bolted majority of their carpet weaving workshops in Camp Jadeed citing “rising expenses”, and “fear of harassment”, it emerged on Sunday.

Many still have carpet looms inside their homes for orders on the side, says Haji Nadir, 55, a respected elder of the community involved in the craft of carpet weaving for more than 30 years. “But it’s not like before,” he adds while squinting in the afternoon sun.

The carpet weavers replaced their craft by selling and buying goats, working as labourers in the nearby Sabzi Mandi or working at tandoor. “It was meant to happen,” says Abdul Mateen, 38, another carpet weaver from Afghan Basti who assisted this scribe in finding Haji Nadir. “It is not yielding enough profit anymore. So, we are looking for alternatives.”

Three years back, it was easy to find the Uzbek community. Usually sitting outside their mud houses, after finishing their work at the carpet loom from dawn till noon, or busy weaving another rug before lunch, they were approachable. Now, they avoid making themselves “too visible” after a few people from the area were recently arrested during the ongoing operation across the city. As a result, many people in the surrounding areas are scared of associating with them and when asked about their accommodations, curtly inform that they have left for Afghanistan.

Being far from the truth, there are around 67,000 Uzbeks living in Karachi’s Afghan Basti near Al Asif Square and Camp Jadeed, also known as Afghan Basti, off Northern Bypass, says Haji Nadir recounting the last count that was done by the government. (The numbers may not have increased, he insists, as many people keep moving to Afghanistan). Another reason for the sudden closure of workshops is the lack of registration process for the carpet weaving business itself, specifically the ones done by Uzbeks, which according to them makes them an “easy target” when a crackdown by the law enforcement happens.

The third reason is lack of business opportunities due to an uncertain situation around the borders with Iran. As Abdul Mateen explains, it is easier to send carpets to Iran from where it goes to Azerbaijan and Turkey, eventually making its way to Europe. The order for a carpet usually comes from Greece and Holland, with the customers at times making a trip to the area to make sure the authenticity of the wool being used, Haji Nadir adds.

Right now, the carpets are limited to being sold around Peshawar and Lahore unless an order comes from a European country. But that, too, has been limited to once or twice a year, claim the carpet weavers.

The Uzbeks, who came along with the Afghan refugees during the Soviet war in the 1980s from Balkh, Kunduz and Jawzjan provinces, brought their craft of carpet weaving with them. Ten family friends started carpet weaving in Afghan Basti, which includes Haji Nadir and two of his closest friends, Haji Rehmat and Aziz Rehman apart from the Baig and Bukhair clans who dominate the carpet weaving business.

Other clans, such as Mughals, Chughtai and Furganchi are mostly hired for their aesthetic sense in picking the most intricate designs. The carpets have various designs including dagger and birds which are most famous in the European markets, Haji Nadir explains. Known as naqsh, the designs adorning the carpet is usually made of out of six characteristics, he says. Counting the designs on his fingers, he adds, “It includes Khal Mohammadi, Bashri, Mawri, Chanar Gul, Pilpayi and Akhlika. Khal Mohammadi is named after a man in Afghanistan’s Balkh province, who introduced the design of an individual, among various others on the carpets. Chanar Gul, as the name suggests itself, is a flower from the highest tree, which we try to intricately design on the carpets.” The colours usually involve a combination of beige and red or cream and emerald green, depending on what the order of the day is.

Before a wedding, the Uzbek women embroider tapestries and weave carpets in a group, while men provide the necessary thread and wool leaving the choice of the cloth for the women to decide.

But recently as 10 workshops closed down one after another, the Uzbeks have started looking for alternatives. Abdul Mateen explains, “The pashm (wool) which we bought for Rs120 is now sold for Rs 250. And the wet wool which was sold for Rs250 is now sold for Rs450. As a result, training an apprentice also costs Rs1,500 per head.”

Since the craft is their own, they still teach it at home and make it a part of an early lesson a seven-year-old in the Uzbek family receives. As Khair-ud-Din, 25, a recent apprentice working with Haji Nadir added, “We know this craft and irrespective of what we do for our survival, it will go with us wherever we move next.”

Published in Dawn, September 28th , 2015

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