She ran out in a trance, crying uncontrollably and calling out for help. The woman who had never stepped out of her house without a burqa, was now running barefoot sans her dupatta, from door to door calling out for help.
The neighbours fearing for their lives turned a deaf ear to her cries.
On March 27, 2012, 62-year-old Noor Jehan Begum witnessed the slaying of her two sons Mohammad Maqsood Mukhtar and Mansoor Mukhtar — who was to be married in three days.
This atrocity, according to Noor Jehan Begum’s eldest son Zaffar Mukhtar, was witnessed by his mother, his slain brother’s wife and their three-year-old daughter. The incident, he believes, has left deep marks on the psyche of the child who screams out in fright even if a camera is positioned at her for a photograph. “Don’t kill me; don’t kill my Baba,” she hysterically cries. The sudden killing of the two brothers has left the family distraught. “My mother cries all day,” says Zaffar who has lost his zest and desire for life. We have no hope for the future,” he says, as each passing second adds to their fear, insecurity and grief.
According to 20-year-old Arif, whose father, Imam Ghulam Mohammad Amin, was targeted on his way back home from Nori Aman Masjid in Nazimabad, “Animals roaming the streets of Karachi are more secure than the people living there. The very fact that you belong to fiqah Jaferia in this country is a threat, however, when a family member is targeted the sense of insecurity becomes worse,” he says.
Arif is the second eldest amongst his eight siblings, the youngest of them all is Atiqa Batool is seven. Arif laments the fact that despite his best efforts, he cannot bridge the gap created by this incident in the little girl’s life. His 18-year-old sister Arifa too experiences bouts of depression. The only positive aspect to come out of all of this, he says, is their mother’s strength of will, as she now stands as a pillar of strength for the whole family.
“Life-changing incidents, especially those in which a loved one loses his life are harder to explain to younger children,” Arif says.
Mehrunisa, a young widow, lives with her extended family in a shanty town in Karachi’s Rizvia Society. Mehrunissa’s husband Mohammad Tahir — alias Sajid, was killed six months ago while returning home from work. Her eldest child who is six constantly asks about her father Tahir. Her two younger children hug and kiss their father’s photograph endlessly. “My husband had many dreams for his children,” reveals Mehrunisa trying to choke her tears, “he wanted our daughter to become a doctor and both her younger siblings to become noha khawan, just like him.”
Shafiq 28, in his last semester of training at the Police Academy in Khairpur, decided to visit his family when, two weeks ago, he succumbed to a trail of bullets shot at him in front of his house. A Master’s degree holder, he was also in line for the first or second position at the Police Academy. Shafiq’s mother was in Swat at the time of his killing. “My son made me proud both in life and death. He lived as a ghazi and died a shaheed,” she says.