In the lives of many nations, renewal has seldom meant the shedding of the old, the building of the new, and the awakening of a collective consciousness, which takes that nation frontward. In the life of our nation we materialize to be destined, to continue to acquiesce in the tyranny exercised by those who have wrested power by force or chicanery and then legitimized it by the mind-numbing chanting of one mantra or the other. Democracy is the latest mantra in our land, demons mocking a system that allows voices to be heard, voices buried by those chanting the slogan of the day
We are the ones who go without adequate sustenance, without sufficient clothing or housing, without the education necessary to open up the potential, which lies within each one of us. We are the ones who do not receive the healthcare, which eats into already impoverished budgets. We are the ones who walk for miles to carry water for the home and the family, beaten once home, often not feeling the agony of calloused feet and hands which runs beneath the searing pain of fresh wounds.

That is why a girl child is not allowed to read and write, just in case she manages to express her desire through these empowering tools, threatening the fragile egos of those who believe they possess her body and her mind. That is why she is not allowed to make decisions for her own life; decisions which would loosen that tyrannical control tightened like a noose around her neck. That is why women are repeatedly beaten, burnt, and buried alive for in most cases the graves of women are not dug after the heart has stopped beating; they are dug the day the birth cry of a girl child shatters the stranglehold of patriarchy’s tyranny.

Many years ago, in a village in the interior of Sindh, we learnt that natural gas pipeline would be starting in this area after a long wait. I asked the women gathered around me if the provision of natural gas would make their lives easier. There was a long silence, and I asked the question again, fearing that concepts of modernity may not have reached this part of the country. It was then that one woman spoke; her words have haunted me since: “It is not as if we are not aware of the ease this gas pipeline shall bring to our lives. It is just that in the smoke of a wood fire, we could weep our tears. But this fuel, it does not give off smoke, so even if the burden of our chores is lighter, it shall not ease the burden of our hearts.”

I have never forgotten those words, as I cannot forget the image of a terrified woman being pushed into a hastily dug grave. For those who have defended this heinous crime, I can only say that “I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning striding behind you, or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”