Seedlings of glory

Aamina, like many of her fellow countrywomen, does Pakistan proud

P akistan woke up last Friday to another reminder about how its kitty has a pocket full of dynamic talent to beat the world. Seedlings (Lamha) germinated into a richly deserved honor at the New York City International Film Festival — the People’s Choice Award for Best Film.

Leading the fray was the beautiful

Aamina Sheikh, who won the Best Actress award, beating the likes of Academy Award winner Tatum O’Neill and Chinese superstar Xiaolu Li.

Aamina’s feat is all the more creditable considering this was her maiden silver screen appearance, and reinforces the belief that given the opportunity — and a supportive system — Pakistani women have the talent and skill to be the best in the business. Produced by Mehar Jafri, the film was in competition with a hundred others at the NYCIFF.

Sadly, the Pakistani media did not set much store by what was in store, and it wasn’t until the seven nominations came along that we so much as took notice that we had a decent bet here.

While the contrast with filmmaker Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy’s Oscar-grabbing feat earlier this year is palpable when column inches filled thick and fast, great symbolism is attached to the latest odds-defying story from Pakistan that keeps the foreigner spoiled. For now, it would seem even a rhapsodic note wouldn’t fall in the realm of overstatement.

The Oscar won by Obaid-Chinoy, who directed Saving Face — a stunning work on the harrowing lives of victims of acid throwing — with Daniel Junge, was a first for Pakistan.

The recognition won by Obaid-Chinoy and Aamina comes at a time when the country is caught in a maelstrom of troubles, mainly from a draining war-on-terror with seemingly no end and extremism to a struggling economy — with a government whose grip on the state is tenuous at best.

But that is stating the political economy. For a country whose better half of the population is female, the environment is hardly conducive for creative work. Crimes against women have increased manifold — forming part of the subject of Obaid-Chinoy’s Oscar-winning work — making it difficult to pursue causes that are at great risk of drawing the worst possible consequences at the hands of obscurantist elements.

Since we are on the subject of films here, it is so easy to forget that while there is no dearth of rich content waiting to be explored by the best of their trade, Pakistan is practically a dead hunting ground for its own industry.

For once, this has little to do with issues of security — that bane of many a Doubting Thomas. The moribund state of cinema has contributed to a general decline in exploring the medium as a vital instrument of expression.

This disenabling environment has led to a spectacular decline in the number of cinema houses, which has fallen dramatically from more than 1,300 countrywide in the Seventies to only dozens now. The arrival of a few Cineplexes half-a-decade ago have retrieved cinegoing to an extent but it is all down to Bollywood and Hollywood fare.

Every four years, a decent local flick does make a happy round but it is a bit rich to suggest that it would revive Pakistani cinema — somewhat coquettishly branded Lollywood after its favored seat of culture, Lahore.

It is against this backdrop that a Muslim, female documentary filmmaker and model-actor from Pakistan have made a significant statement. Their feats have done wonders to lift the morale of a nation badly in need of heroes.

However, to suggest that these two stories are the only ones worth their speck of stardust would be underrating the heroics of other female of the species this side of Indus. Pakistani women have fired the imagination of the nation before in both academic and sporting arenas.

Ninth grader Malala Yousafzai, 15, defined courage in her own way as a blogger — then only 13 — for BBC, writing from Swat during the heady days of Taliban. Championing the rights of the people of the bloodied valley, she was nominated by Kids Rights Foundation, an international advocacy group, for — and narrowly missed — the International Children’s Peace Prize last year.

The tragic death recently of Arfa Karim, the world’s youngest Microsoft Certified Professional, drowned the nation in sorrow but her achievements — she was still shy of her 17th birthday when she died of cardiac arrest induced by a sudden epileptic seizure — are legion, drawing both state and private entities to honor her work with several rounds of dedication.

The world was also left stunned last year when Sitara Barooj Akbar, an 11-year-old girl from Rabwah — home to Ahmedis, the most persecuted community whose sect has been constitutionally excommunicated from the fold of Islam in Pakistan — became the world’s youngest to pass O’Level.

Sitara passed five papers including English, Physics, Chemistry and Biology and given her age and petite frame was at first mistaken by an IELTS examination officer for the daughter of a candidate!

No private sector institute was initially willing to admit Sitara, who still has to commute 60km from home each day to school and back. Her father was forced to leave his government job and open a private school to educate her when no-one would admit her because of age.

Sadly, the international media is too preoccupied with stereotyped coverage of news events surrounding the war-on-terror in Pakistan to note these incredible stories of human endurance and courage.

The writer is a senior journalist based in Islamabad and can be reached at [email protected]

Aamina Sheikh