JHULKE village is a world apart from the main Lahore-Kasur thoroughfare where cars whizz by on its smooth and paved road. A large school building sits on this main road and next to it is the office of a construction company, offering luxury houses in the suburbs.

Out of sight, tucked behind the façade of these two buildings there is a turn which leads to Jhulke.

An uneven road stretches into the heart of the place. On the edge of the village are fields of corn that flutter steadily in the wind, alongside Haji Naimat’s brick kiln that smokes its black breath into the open sky.

In the middle of the Muslim and Christian community is Saleem Masih’s simple white church, its steel cross gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Today the church is to hold an event — the first of its kind, where schoolchildren will be given gifts. It is a small gesture aimed only at Christian families, but something is better than nothing, says Saleem.

“It is meant to motivate them to stay in school, while those who don’t go to school won’t be getting anything,” he says as the pastor of this church.

Saleem himself has only completed his matriculation, but for him education always comes first when it comes to children. “I have been made in charge of this village and I want to make the lives of its future generations better by making sure they learn something. But unfortunately it is very difficult to persuade families to send their children to school.”

Out of a total of 20 families in Jhulke, 10 are Christian. While there is no economic segregation based on religion, most of the Christians do in fact work at the brick kiln. Poverty forces children to work there too.

“The kiln owner was good enough to follow government rules and have our children admitted to a nearby government school,” says Saleem. “He made their documents and ID cards — everything — until unfortunately a lot of families moved away from this kiln to another.”

This kind of displacement has caused so many children to be taken away from schools they were registered at. New families who move here will have to start from scratch.

“With brick kiln workers this is the norm,” says Sarwar, who has been working at this kiln for ages and has three children working too. His eldest son is also studying for matriculation — rather trying to.

“He has failed thrice because he has to work at the kiln and at the same time study. It becomes very difficult,” says his father.

It is past dusk now and families gather with their children at Sarwar’s home to meet his father who is ill. Almost all the children suffer from malnutrition. These are the children who will not be attending Saleem’s event for gifts.

“What can we do? Poverty is what rules us,” says Sarwar. “It’s like a cycle. School may be out there, but children can’t go there because for us it’s important to earn enough to have food by the end of the day.”

For those who work in the fields, the story is no different. Some brick kiln labourers live alongside peasants on the other side of the village. Their condition is more or less the same.

Kiln workers lose their only subsistence during the rainy season when the kilns are closed down.

But the villagers who buy and sell buffaloes are better off than the others.

This is a profitable business and since Waqas’s father has been in this sector for long, he has been lucky enough to go to school. But he is the only one who is so educated.

“The trend in the village is for parents not to give their children any kind of education,” he says. “And even if they do send their children to school, it is mostly boys. Unfortunately, girl’s education is not their priority.

“The priority is that they get their daughters married off as soon as possible.”

Waqas feels that the government can only be blamed to an extent. Mainly it is the villagers’ own attitudes that have caused them to lag behind.

He points to a place beyond the cornfields, bathed in darkness. “Beyond that is a place called Saanpon Wali Haveli (snake mansion), an abode of ‘saints’,” he says.

“It is believed that these saints are bestowed with divine powers and if someone is bitten by a snake they can save their life with a few spells.”

There are no statistics as to how many people have died from snakebites, but these saints in Saanpon Wali Haveli hold sway over the illiterate villagers.

According to Waqas, there are around 6,000 registered voters who live in the village. The village falls under the NA-134 constituency, where Rana Mubashir Iqbal from PML-N has won yet again.

Waqas himself has completed his Masters in English literature from a well-known Lahore-based college and is now studying further. His aspiration is to open a couple of schools in the village so that studying becomes the norm, not a choice.

Meanwhile in Saleem’s church, additional rooms cater for anyone who wants to acquire vocational skills.

“It’s meant to teach children or teenagers skills like embroidery and stitching ,” he says. “Sadly they have never been used because no one showed any interest.”

Inside the church, with music blaring, a handful of children are jumping with joy because their names are being called out for distribution of prizes. Children from classes I to VII are being handed school bags and stationery.

Saleem, just a painter himself, has four children and lives from hand to mouth. He lives in a one-room house in a backward area near Gujjumata. In spite of his meagre means, he is determined to send all his children to school, especially the daughters.

Although it is a tall order, he sets aside a little money every month to utilise for the education of other children in the village.

“I bought these school bags with my own savings,” he says proudly. The cost was around Rs6500 — it must have taken him months to save. “These bags and stationery will encourage children to go to school. It will remind them that they are doing the right thing.”

Published in Dawn, August 22nd, 2018