IN these times of despair, even the dead can give us hope and inspiration. That is the powerful message that emerged from the Orangi Pilot Project-Research and Training Institute’s forum on Jan 22. It was organised to commemorate the birthday of Perween Rahman who was shot fatally in March 2013.
Why was Perween killed? It might sound bizarre but the fact is that there are vested interests in our society who feel threatened by people who work for the poor. That was confirmed by SP Akhtar Farooqi who said on the occasion that the murder was not motivated by personal enmity but by economic factors. Continue reading “Message of hope?”
I remember Sister Mary Emily as ever humble and a sympathetic figure in the St Joseph’s College and Convent. Dr Hamida Khuhro
My association with her goes back to the fifties when I joined the SJC as a student. Then after finishing with the University I came back to join the college as a lecturer. I was always so impressed by Sister’s efficiency and thoroughness in every thing that she did that probably some of it rubbed off on me as well and has stayed with me all my life unto this day.. That is the greatest tribute to sister Emily that any student can give. On learning of her passing away last night I spent a long time pondering over my association with the college and with Sister Emily and felt that they had been such wonderful years. May her soul rest in peace. Rashida Wasti (nee Hasan)Continue reading “Tributes to Sister Mary Emily”
IT was 1957 and we had returned to college after a restful summer
vacation. We had braced ourselves for the discipline that was the hallmark of the St Joseph’s College for Women (SJC) under the watchful eye of Sister Mary Bernadette, who was the principal.
As I entered the college premises, I saw a petite figure in the nun’s white habit walk briskly before me. It wasn’t the principal, who moved slowly with a stoop that comes with age. We didn’t have to wonder for long. At assembly we were introduced to our new vice-principal, Sister Mary Emily. She sailed into our lives like a breath of fresh air and departed equally quietly last Sunday.
Sister Emily revitalised us. But more than that she infused dynamism into this premier institution that she was to head four years later. For me it was the beginning of an association that lasted 60 years, during which she guided not just me but also several generations of Karachi’s young women through stormy times giving us a sense of security and stability. A recipient of the Sitara-i-Imtiaz, Sister’s wisdom, her scholarship, her tact in handling students, her administrative skills and above all her humanism, made her an institution in Karachi’s academia. Continue reading “Sister Mary Emily”
This question has been debated ad nauseam with no definitive conclusion being reached. It has been conceded, though, that there is something wrong with the process by which public policy is formulated. Self-serving rulers – both civilian and military – have projected their style of governance as being democratic, whereas in reality, both have ruled with a heavy hand.
Take the case of education. It would seem strange that after the experience of formulating 10 education policies dating back to the very inception of the country in 1947 – none of which were fully implemented – the present government has failed to announce the eleventh policy which was due in January 2016. Continue reading “The politics of public policy”
Edhi’s six secrets that won him people’s love and trust
1. He loved the poor which means he lived like them and among them.
2. Was humble to the core and very approachable.
3. His integrity was never in doubt yet he ensured it was visible.
4. You could call his enterprise love-&-charity-without-borders. Everyone was reached whatever be their faith, class, age, gender or ethnicity.
5. He was the “ruler” of his sprawling “empire” yet he acted like the humblest worker performing with his own hands what he expected his workers to do — be it to wash the unclaimed corpses or drive an ambulance to reach a scene of crisis.
And most importantly
6. That is why in his last illness which struck him in 2o13 he turned to the Sindh Institute of Urology & Transplantation — a hospital where the poor are loved and not allowed to die because they cannot afford to pay for their treatment to stay alive.
EIGHT years ago, a young woman from Khairo Dero (Larkana district) was so touched by the plight of her people that she decided to work for their uplift.
She had been fortunate to receive a privileged education abroad, was doing a lucrative job and had all that one could wish for in life. Today, she has renounced these privileges to work for her people. .
The pronounced lack of interest in the public health system in Pakistan is not difficult to explain. Public opinion in a country as stratified and uninformed as ours, is created and moulded by the so-called privileged classes, comprising those members of society who have the means to pay for private health care. Hence they are not affected by the abysmal state of health care in the public sector on which the poor depend.
The general attitude is: what is the role of the poor in our society? They are useful only for domestic labour in the homes of the rich or for menial work in public places and factories. And, of course, to vote at election time. A higher birth rate among the impoverished ensures there is never any shortage in the labour force. If they fall sick, they are easily replaced. With limited skills and training, none are really indispensable. Continue reading “A Global Conglomerate of Oppression”
The Children’s Literature Festival in Karachi ended on Saturday 26 Feb 2016. Where were you Naushaba? We used to be the two “senior juniors” in this event ever since it was launched by Baela Raza Jamil in 2011. We travelled together to Lahore, Islamabad, and Quetta and enjoyed the company of the youth. This time it was lonely without you.Your family and friends miss you. Here is how they remember you.(ZM)
OUR MOTHER WHO WANTED TO BE THE BEST … AND WAS
By Samya Burney on behalf of her siblings
AMMA always worked when we were kids as she enjoyed the stimulation and also needed the money. However, she worked part-time for quite a while when we were young so that she could balance her career and time with us. She finally decided to go back to working full-time when she accepted a job at PIA, writing speeches for the chairman as well as articles for Humsafar, among other things. Continue reading “Memories: Tributes to Naushaba Burney”
SHE was a fellow traveller in our journey in journalism and before long we became friends. That was Naushaba Burney whose death last week has robbed many of us of a valuable supporter who infused moral strength in us during critical times. She began her career as a teacher, and as good teachers do, she knew the art of bringing out the best in those she interacted with.I can’t even recall the first time I met her. She seems to have been around in the wide and colourful canvas of friends I have cherished all my life. Having launched on her professional career before I did she had already made a mark and was recognised for her talent. After graduating in journalism from Berkeley in the 1950s, she began teaching at the University of Karachi. Although she left the University after a few years at heart she remained a teacher forever. Continue reading “My friend Naushaba”
JAN 22 was Perween Rahman’s birthday. Had she escaped the assassin’s cruel bullets she would have turned 59. But that was not to be and this devoted social worker, a friend of the poor, was snatched away from us three years ago on March 13, 2013.
Not that she has receded into oblivion. The poor are not ungrateful. Nor have those who feared her mended their ways. OPP-RTI, the organisation she headed, wanted to observe Perween’s birthday and celebrate her life and achievements. Such events help imprint on the public memory the work of selfless and lovable personalities who have made an impact on the lives of those they worked for. Thus alone will many Perweens be born. This is absolutely necessary if this society is to be saved from the avarice of the selfish. Continue reading “Unsilenced voice”