Police at their best, again
It is not clear whether the passengers in question actually tried to stop the Airport Security Force from the performance of its duties, as they were charged by the security agency in the FIR that was swiftly registered against them. They were certainly not miscreants acting at the behest of a dreaded political party or any such thing. The passengers in question had gone to the airport and they had checked in at three in the morning, only to discover that the plane would not take off until 11am. Instead of showing empathy and understanding, the ASF took on them as if they were a bunch of terrorists.
There was also a mention of some VIP on the scene, who was on his way to boarding an Islamabad-bound flight at the time of the commotion. The man reportedly ‘ordered’ the security personnel to discipline the rowdy passengers as they were ‘disturbing the peace’. Then, all hell broke loose. Even women passengers were beaten up by the security staff. In any civilized society, this would have called for an investigation into the incident; not here. Not a chance unless, of course, a well-connected person happened to be among the victims or a top government executive were to be prevailed upon to order an inquiry.
The latest unfortunate incident was one of many that routinely take place in the city. You need only to step out on to the road to see how the police harass motorists. The bikers are their pet peeves, and it’s not only the traffic police but also the regular constables who could be seen pulling terrified young bikers aside for little or no apparent reason. This kind of ‘provincial’ attitude on the part of the law enforcement agencies is inexplicable; it certainly defies the city’s size and stature.
If this is the state of affairs in the Punjab capital, you can well imagine the stranglehold of the police in smaller towns and in villages. All this, while crime has gone skyrocketing: there are more than 10 armed robberies in the city on an average every day. Cash-snatchings at gunpoint have also become a regular feature of daily life. But, quite obviously, the police have other priorities.
AN impromptu visit to a number of reputed educational institutions in the city the other day left one with mixed feelings. The National College of Arts and the Government College were seen buzzing with academic activity, the atmosphere you expected to see at these seats of learning. The Punjab University’s Old Campus and the Oriental College, by contrast, looked worn out and tense without a tangible explanation.
Students at the first two institutions looked smart and interested in their pursuit of studies, as they swiftly moved from one class to the next or exchanged notes in the corridors. Many of those seen in the cafeterias were also upbeat; some indulged in academic polemics, others just lounged around, listening to intense group debates with interest. The atmosphere inspired much hope. After all, not all has been lost just yet, so thank God for these pockets of enlightenment, you would say.
The scene at the university and the Oriental College was totally different. Students looked just ‘out of it’ and bored. It seemed as if everyone was under pressure to mind his own business and drudge along another weary day at college. The tree trunks on campus had religious sayings and prayers inscribed on tin plates pinned to them. Other signs warned you of what you should not be seen doing.
The university cafeteria, too, looked utterly chaotic where no one could sit down to a cup of tea or to have a conversation. There was just too much hurrying and scurrying about, the kind of scene witnessed in a busy roadside cafe or those at the lorry stand. The funny thing is that all the four institutions are run in the public sector, with the NCA and the GC now being autonomous entities. The two can teach the university administration a lesson in how to create and sustain an academic atmosphere on campus.
A FLURRY of cultural activities has descended on the city. The International Performing Arts Festival kicked off on Saturday, with foreign troupes comprising musicians, vocalists, dancers, drama artistes and puppeteers from 38 countries participating. The gala will continue for 10 days, with several events, including seminars and talks planned on a daily basis.
The city had never quite seen such a cultural bonanza before 1992 when the first international puppet festival, the forerunner of the current one, was held here for the first time. Since 2002, the performing arts festival, of which puppetry is an integral component, has become an annual event. This year, the organizers have decided to donate proceeds from the first 10,000 tickets sold to the earthquake relief effort.
On the sidelines of the festival, individual countries are also taking advantage of their respective performers’ presence in the city to arrange shows on their own. These are essentially invite-only affairs, but given the Lahorites’ disdain for exclusivity, efforts have been made by the host embassies to make passes of these shows available to the general public too.
Visual art events have also come out of their summer-long hibernation, and the city’s art galleries are decked up with the season’s fresh work. The prices this year are a bit on the steep side, but then there are buyers, say gallery curators, who would pay to get a piece of art that takes their fancy into their homes. Many art galleries are also chipping in with their bit and contributing to the quake relief effort.
DR Tariq Rahman, who made a presentation on ethnic politics and Pakistan’s language policy at the NCA the other day, revealed that the state spent some Rs2,000 odd on each secondary school student on an annual basis. By comparison, the amount spent in the armed forces-managed public schools was over Rs10,000 per student per annum. The latter schools, the professor said, were more advanced, and the emphasis there was more on imparting empirical, scientific knowledge rather than on ideology and state rhetoric. It’s good to know that at least someone is deriving some benefit from the taxpayers’ money. — Observer
Even most sensitive zone lacks security
The most sensitive zone is under focus, not just in our conversations, but even Sindh Chief Minister Arbab Rahim, says a news agency report, has “called for a round-the-clock patrolling on horses and motorcycles covering the area housing Governor’s House, Chief Minister’s House, Muslim Gymkhana, Sindh Secretariat, Sindh High Court, Assembly building, Rangers headquarters, PIDC House, major hotels, Frere Hall, US Consulate-General and Qasre Naz”. One may add here that there are in this vicinity also the Sindh Club, the Karachi Gymkhana, the chief secretary’s residence, the Goethe Institut, and many multi-storeyed buildings housing major companies and organizations.
The state of security and safety has assumed the highest priority in this elitist part of Karachi, following the blast, which one may point out wasn’t the first one in this vicinity. What has worried and disappointed citizens is that in this particular case the surveillance cameras installed at the PIDC intersection were not “functional”, and as such, it is reported, it failed to record Tuesday’s terrifying blast. This, as my friend underlined, was the “disappointment of the year 2005”. That was his way of expressing his resentment. He asked about the other security measures that have been introduced in Karachi, and sounded sceptical. I pray that he is wrong.
The chief minister has reportedly asked the chief secretary “to initiate an inquiry into the matter and submit a report to him in the next few days”. I am sure that the public would like to know why those cameras were not functional, and who was responsible for their operational maintenance?
From the look of things to come the owners of the five star hotels and buildings were being asked to install more cameras to monitor the situation outside. My friend heard this “good news” and then spoke in some detail of the overall environment and aesthetics around the highly sensitive zone. He recalled that 25-30 years ago, for example Dr Ziauddin Ahmed Road and its adjoining areas, residential and commercial included, was a neat, clean and peaceful area where the addition of the Bagh-i-Jinnah was heralded as a symbolic change.
Citizens felt that this garden would bring in more positive environmental change and improvement. For a variety of reasons, this particular PIDC House area has suffered an official downgrading in terms of environmental quality. Its insecurity, is an additional minus, lamented my friend.
I heard him in speechless silence as he created a vivid picture of what daily life in this upper class locality of Karachi is like. First, he mentioned the fact that at one time the presence of the Government College of Commerce and Economics on Dr Ziauddin Ahmed Road was a matter of prestige and gave to the area a reputation. Now that very same college is almost unnoticed. Now what matters are the other buildings, and offices, and the fact that there is both high security and VVIP presence in the area.
This VVIP presence in town not only leads to a closure of roads (Club Road, M.T Khan Road and Ziauddin Road) but also aggravates the suffocating traffic context. Ask those who work in this area of what it means to do without car parking space. This handicap has become a nightmare after the bomb blast. Quite understandably the parking around the PIDC House has been brought to an end, and more no-parking zones are being considered. An amazing (read disappointing) option is that the sports ground of the commerce college is being considered as a parking lot. That would mean a permanent loss to the students, and yet another sports ground would stand eliminated. But in a city poorly planned and in a society hopelessly commercial, it wouldn’t matter. Not even a whisper of resentment really.
Of course, after the 15th November bomb explosion there is much to whisper about. But overlook that and contemplate the fact while no building in this area, five star hotels included, have sufficient car parking space, thereby creating problems for others, no one located here bothers about the quality of the pavements, walls, roads, side roads, and the cleanliness and aesthetics on the aggregate. And that PIDC House, whose pan shops are known all over the city, and that corner which has a cluster of small retail outlets and Suzuki vehicles selling burgers, corn soup, and chips, is such a dimly lit, shabby place otherwise that it is hard to believe there are five star hotels in the vicinity.
Even in normal times there has been an insecurity born of assorted crime. Those who work here tell stories of how cars have been stolen and snatched in this area. Parking cars on the roads and lanes in the locality is exposing the vehicle to car thieves, big and small recalled this friend, who was speaking from personal experience. He’s had one new car stolen, plus accessories missing from his cars from time to time. And keep in mind that the citizen has the illusion that this being a VIP area would have VIP security too. No such deal, my dear!
And as there are even today at least seven commercial banks in this area, (there used to be nine a couple of years ago), individuals have tales to tell of how they have been held up at gunpoint for amounts as small as Rs5,000 to Rs10,000. In fact, the area around the PIDC House and stretching out in all four directions is not only poorly lit but inhabited by “shady people” making walking as a pedestrian very vulnerable, and utterly risky. My friend said he could tremble at the thought of walking alone after sunset here, or drawing cash from any bank during the day, and crossing the road to return to his office.
This bomb blast has evidently brought to the fore more issues than could be imagined. Obviously, security concerns outweigh the others in a society where both official and private armed security appear to inadequate at times. Community policing is what is being stressed. And with such optimism, it would be a very good proposition if the corporate sector, say in areas like PIDC House, assembles and adopts a locality in a comprehensive manner. With the way we are going, it is needed, sooner than later.
But let us end with an ordinary citizen’s thought to the kind of town planning that we have been doing in Karachi. In a radius of a kilometre or so are located and housed such sensitive offices, VIP residences and five star hotels in an ambience of such growing vulnerability and a security cover, where even the cameras for surveillance are questionable. And as we have realized our readiness for disaster is thin and fragile.