We want justice for GI
We would like to announce with utmost sorrow and grief that our good friend Late Gumnaam Insaan (1947-2013), aka GI, died last night in another blatant episode of violence in the country. We’ve made it clear to the media and the law enforcing authorities that we won’t rest in peace until and unless we get justice for GI, whose death epitomises the depths to which the law and order situation in Pakistan has sunk. GI had become the victim of an assortment of injustices, faced the most gruesome of tortures and had been squashed under the most patently unwarranted status quos, as he experienced his latest demise. The Shahzeb Khan case showcases precisely what you need to do to approach justice in this country, and after learning a thing or two from the case and similar predecessors, we’ve decided to follow their lead.
We have launched a Facebook page called “In memory of Shaheed Gumnaam Insaan”, to clamour for justice on behalf of an individual whose father was not a police officer, did not have educated friends, was born in a poor family and whose death did not ‘awaken’ enough protestors to emotionally blackmail the Supreme Court into taking notice. We are hoping for a strong response from every single person who is vociferously demanding justice for Shahzeb Khan. Since barring Shahzeb’s close friends and family – whose struggle is commendable – I don’t see how GI is any different to Shahzeb Khan for the remainder of the 120,000 people on the Facebook page titled “In memory of Shahzeb Khan”.
The biggest stumbling block with not having a cop in your family while dreaming of justice is that even filing a report against a hotshot culprit is next to impossible, a fact we’ve learnt the hard way in GI’s case. Hence, we’re looking towards the social media to generate racket, which would eventually be loud enough to reverberate on the eardrums of the president, prime minister, chief ministers, the chief justice, journalists, and social activists of the country. And we know precisely what we need to do to ensure that the armchair revolutionaries jump aboard our bandwagon, which is more of a tricycle as things stand.
We have created a bunch of fake profiles on Facebook and Twitter that would be used to ‘like’ and retweet every status update and tweet of the “social activists” that join our page. We’ve also hired a Photoshop expert who will design your Facebook display pictures, covers and Twitter backgrounds to give your profiles the “revolutionary” look that you crave. And of course the complimentary Che Guevara t-shirts would be delivered along with the “I am Gumnaam Insaan” wear, that’d help you muster more Twitter followers and Facebook friend requests, as well as make you even more appealing to the opposite sex. We’ve also ensured that our peaceful demonstrations do not take place during daylight to attract a higher percentage of female participants, who can flaunt their designer wear and expensive makeup without any fear of skin damage – all for a noble cause of course. An increase in the number of women, that’d make the protests seem like Pakistan Fashion Week ramps would obviously result in an increase in the number of men that’d join the cause. And so, fashion photographers have also been hired to capture your rebellious moments on the streets, which you can upload on Facebook as proof that “you were there”, as you bellow for change in Pakistan.
Once we have enough following to catapult us to social media prominence, our cause would then become sufficiently “cool” to attract the average Pakistani Facebook user, and sufficiently “cashable” for the media and journalists to exploit. We’d also add Shaheed – a term that once had a momentous meaning and is now synonymous with ‘deceased’ – to further add momentum to our movement. As the “protestors” snowball to a continuously increasing number, TV shows would then exclusively cover GI’s case to increase the channel’s ratings and the TV host’s following. Leading writers, journalists and ‘thinkers’ would then sympathise with GI in their columns and castigate the party, authority or agency that pays them the least to get more acclaim from the ‘cool’ brigade and more dough from their backers. As the circus would continue to generate hullabaloo the matter would then come into the notice of the government and the Supreme Court, who’d then treat it like a unique case and orders would be sent left, right and centre asking for the perpetrators of the crime to be dug out from oblivion. By then GI would become the courageous hero, radical leader, symbol of hope and the face of revolution in the country and our job would then be done.
GI has been butchered in religious ethnic cleansing movements in Balochistan, raped in Upper Sindh mansions and Central Punjab farmhouses, burned under blasphemy charges, murdered by village goondas, stabbed on the streets, shot by town gangsters, killed in bomb blasts, abducted by the bhatta mafia and slain by rival tribes. GI also had a family and quite often familial animosities. He was also hard done by courtesy lawlessness, had a multitude of mourners and left a void in scores of lives that nothing on this earth can possibly fill.
We really need all of you who are remonstrating for justice in the Shahzeb Khan case to come forward and raise your voice in favour of justice for GI. For, you see, unlike Shahzeb, the entire country isn’t aware of GI’s victimisation; unlike Shahzeb, the grief of GI’s death isn’t shared by millions; unlike Shahzeb, GI’s friends do not know the power of social media; unlike Shahzeb, GI’s family isn’t aware of the route that could lead them to within the proximity of justice; unlike Shahzeb, GI’s life was never given its due value. And more crucially, I hope you all realise that unlike Shahzeb Khan, GI would be killed again tomorrow, and the day after…
The writer is Editor, Business/City (Karachi), Pakistan Today. Email: [email protected] Twitter: @khuldune
