Story
#TharDiaries #RamadanAppeal #ChroniclesUntold #TharCriesUnheard: Can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
Since 2014, I have been trying to initiate work in the deserts of Tharparkar that can make lives of those battling the scorching heat and drought year after year. To help those, who do not have a proper roof above their heads, for those who live on food items that we use as starters.
Finally, after a struggle of two years, I am glad I am here, celebrating the month of Ramadan with those who are the most deserving in the whole of Pakistan. Believe me, I do not feel any problems whatsoever to fast in this area. After witnessing their problems, I can't get hungry or thirsty anymore.
The question that has been bothering me and I have lost sleep tonight is: Can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
I heard their every day meal is a 1 roti and a glass of lassi (yogurt milk). They have meat once a year during Qurbani.
Question is can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
I heard their women battle out blisters on their feet, walk 40 minutes to one hour every day to fetch water. Since they are not able to leave the kids alone back home due to safety issues, the little children walk with their mothers every day.
Question is can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
To keep themselves well-fed, all they need is 50mm of rainfall, once in June, once in July and once in August every year. Well-fed means one roti and a glass of lassi for every meal they take every day. They can manage it if the drought spell is not more than a year long. Since the past 3-4 years, the drought spell has increased to 3-4 years, killing their resilience to fight it anymore.
Question is can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
I had Iftari today. Was not born in aristocrat family, but I have been raised with the best. And today, I was served the best at my guest house. It was difficult to gulp down the best food available in the area. The quality of grain, oil and everything was of such a low standard, that I wanted to let that one drop fall of my eye. But, ALHAMDULILAH, I still ate meat, no matter how it tasted, it was still a meal I was having the rest living around have access to once a year.
Question is can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
I asked them if they would send their children to school. They said yes. I asked them if they would send their girls to school if we make one for them. They said yes. In fact, they said, we will give you 20 rupees per month if you can do this for our children. They wanted to take ownership. They want their problems to be solved.
Question is can I cry? Or does that make me less of a man?
Yes, I could not cry in front of them, but I cannot hold my tears anymore.
If that makes me less of a man, then so be it. No fist pumps, no thumping of the chest, nothing can help me to console myself. I am alone in my room and I can let myself out, but I am making sure that I write this down to you all, even if my fingers are trembling at the moment. I can't let these secrets hidden in me, I am not the sort of person who can live with these secrets.
Can you imagine that they were still smiling and pointing towards the heaven even after going through this ordeal generations after generations? No hardship in life is bigger than what I experienced in the last 12 hours or so and I have to face this and more horrific stories in the next 48 hours. I do not know when I would be able to sleep again.
I simply do not know.
Therefore, I am making this appeal for a solution that the community has agreed to adopt.
We are going to make 3 water hand pumps and built a school in each village we are going to adopt. It costs Rs. 240,000 to solve their water issues completely, it takes another 400,000 rupees per year to operate a one room school/year for a maximum of 50 students.
80,000 rupees for each pump. 670 rupees for each child, each month, to ensure they attend school and bring a change, a change the people have been waiting for over 6 decades. I am aiming to raise Rs. 2 Million to initiate the development program in three villages in Phase 1.
This is not an appeal. This is my cry. Please do not let it go unheard.
Please do not let it go unheard.
PLEASE, DO NOT LET IT GO UNHEARD.
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