Sound of bombing, not school bell, rings in children’s ears

Pakistan’s new generation too lives or dies by its national sport. With education lacking for all five children of Haroon’s family, bowling, batting, running and fielding is the major focus of their day. Haroon enjoys it like all villagers in his small mountain village in the district of Buner. Now he is not home anymore- two weeks ago, he and his family took refuge in the house of a generous countryman, when their home village was hit. They walked seven hours through the mountains to get there.

The province has been transformed into a warzone with the Pakistani army launching a fierce campaign against militants, who in turn have fought back intensely. The result? More than 1 million people have fled their homes, scared of the rebels, who show no reservation in pursuing their objectives to keep control and gain more influence.

...He has no money to bring in a doctor or to go to the hospital. In Pakistan’s terms, that means dishonour Running to safe places, full of fear, stress and confusion: was it not the Pakistani soldiers they so trust, who were supposed to protect them? It was that Pakistani helicopter which made the boys put mud in their ears. In the end the bombs inflicted serious wounds on their legs and arms. Haroon talks about what happened, but his elder cousins Waqar (14) and Iftikhar (11) remain silent, only showing their physical wounds.

The mental scars one clearly senses in one of the small rooms a host family has graciously offered to the extended family, now displaced without any belongings. But Razzi, father of Iftikhar and head of the household of five children has another immediate problem to deal with. The serious wounds of his three children are still not treated, 15 days after the attack. A friend who is a maintenance engineer in a distant hospital has dressed their wounds with some bandages and plasters. But the legs are swollen where shrapnel has not been removed and a deep wound in one of the boy’s back has not been treated. Clearly, the boys are in physical pain. Their father struggles with his anguish; he lacks the means to give the children the medical care they need. He has no money to bring in a doctor or to go to the hospital. In Pakistan’s terms, that means dishonour.

Asked about his struggles, his face shows a painful smile: “You will never know what it is to have that deep pain inside. Only God knows what is in my heart.” He smiles, hiding his deep sorrow, adding his sense of tragic reality and some flavour of optimism: “Perhaps tomorrow we go back, but we will still be uneducated*. It will all be the same”.

Perhaps tomorrow we go back, but we will still be uneducated...it will all be the same World Vision knows for his children at least, it will not be the same: the organisation is setting up child-focused activities in tents, to help the children and others cope with their terrifying ordeal. “A ray of hope, which will also reflect on the parents is what we want to give them”, says Imran Chishti, who is involved in the design of the overall relief response.

On top of this father’s misery which is fuelled daily by the bleak prospects of returning home, Ragi Gul is fighting Hepatitis B. World Vision registered him as an eligible recipient of emergency aid relief after meeting the distribution criteria the organisation applies to avoid complaints or exclusion. He came to World Vision’s small village distribution for 55 displaced families, but was unable to carry the package of cooking utensils, buckets, hygiene articles, hygiene supplies, gas cooker, quilts and bed sheets, plates, soap, mosquito nets, candles, towels and underwear. The relief team has ensured the family kit is delivered to his home, while a doctor from the Pakistani Red Crescent is called to assure a rapid visit.

The atmosphere in the small room was filled with a strange mix of gratitude and pain. Feelings of dishonour – in a culture where family honour and respect underpin community life – seemed to take over. Joy was tempered by the reminder that they had to abandon their land and property: stripped of what gives a Pakistani family its identity. It was again Haroon who broke the ice: “I had hoped for a bicycle”, he said with his most charming voice and smile.

Nephew Waqar shares how he fled his home, which came under fire: “I could not walk, so they put me on a tractor. The other wounded children were pushed into a “ching-chi” (motorcycle taxi) for which my father paid 2,000 Rupees (US$25). But I lost my family and was only reunited with them at 9 pm”. Seven hours of separation must have seemed like an eternity for a wounded boy, with the sound of bombing still ringing in his ears.

I have no income, no job. I depend on my brothers. I wonder whether I can make their dreams come true The family used to survive on subsistence farming and tending some livestock. One of the two cows was killed: another cow and a calf remain to feed the family. Pointing at his children, while asked about his major concern Ragi says: “I have no income, no job. I depend on my brothers. I wonder whether I can make their dreams come true”.

His children in the midst of their anxiety share their vision for the world: “That they [all children in the world] do not live like this, have peace. In’shallah [God willing]” says Iftikhar (11) while his brothers and nephews nod. He comes across like the cricket referee. The neutral and somehow stable factor in a turbulent cricket match. World Vision is actively pleading to all parties in the conflict, within and outside Pakistan: let the children go home safely. As in the cricket match: the ultimate goal of the players is to run home without being hit. And the world’s ultimate responsibility for the Pakistani children.

"We will stay with the children and their parents upon their return and with the host families. Using the potential and creativity of the Pashtun people, we will give them the key resources and knowledge to use the potential of children, men and women to create a future of dignity, where health care, income security, education and seeds for change will prosper”, envisions Shaharyar Bangash, Operations Manager for World Vision Pakistan in NWFP, who ironically planned to start to work with communities in the Buner district before the crisis hit.

...children will never forget the sound of a helicopter –whether it is dropping a bomb, or life-saving aid Bangash is currently overseeing a vast number of small scale village distributions of basic supplies and planning for crucial services such as temporary schools, health services, water and sanitation projects, and livelihoods projects for the displaced.

World Vision has been working in Pakistan since 1992, focusing on emergency relief and response, child protection, HIV and AIDS awareness, sustainable economic development through programmes like organic farming, health & hygiene, and empowering women through vocational training and literacy programmes.

Importantly, World Vision provided extensive assistance to people in the Mansehra district, neighbouring Buner district in NWFP, immediately after the 2005 earthquake. World Vision staff, who are predominantly local to the area know what it takes to respond in an emergency here – and sadly, why children will never forget the sound of a helicopter –whether it is dropping a bomb, or life-saving aid.

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For security reasons we have not mentioned the names of the villages and the family names.

*Throughout the NWFP the school system is broken and teacher absence is a big issue. The teachers who do work often exploit children for their own benefits and physical punishment is common. On the other hand many children are engaged in domestic work and farming the land or herding the cattle. With minimum financial means, all able hands are needed, especially when the father seeks work elsewhere in cities like Mardan or Peshawar.