Category: 1. Pakistan

An anti-terrorism court (ATC) in Lahore on Saturday granted the police a five-day physical remand of PTI founder Imran Khan’s nephew Shershah Khan in a case pertaining to the Jinnah House attack during the May 9, 2023 riots.

The Lahore Police arrested Shershah, son of Imran’s sister Aleema Khan, from outside his home on Friday. His brother Shahrez Khan, who was picked up on Thursday, was also handed over to police custody yesterday for eight days over the same allegations.

ATC Judge Manzer Ali Gill presided over today’s hearing, where PTI Secretary General Salman Akram Raja appeared as Shershah’s counsel and Imtiaz Sipra as the prosecutor.

The prosecution sought a 30-day physical remand, while the defence counsel requested that the suspect be discharged from the case. Judge Gill then granted the police Shershah’s five-day custody.

On May 9, 2023, PTI supporters, protesting Imran’s arrest, staged violent protests throughout the country, vandalising military installations and state-owned buildings, while also attacking the Lahore corps commander’s residence.

Following the riots, the state launched a crackdown on the PTI, with thousands of protesters and top party leadership arrested. Scores of PTI leaders have recently been convicted in cases over the riots and disqualified from their parliamentary roles.

Addressing a press conference outside the Lahore ATC, Aleema said her sons had not committed any crime to warrant arrest.

“What is their crime? Their crime is that they are Imran Khan’s nephews … that they are Imran Khan’s family,” she said.

She said that the arrests aimed to put “pressure” on Imran and his family, but added that they were not succumbing to this pressure.

“This is a fight of every Pakistani — it is a duty of every Pakistani — that for this country, its freedom … they play their part,” Aleema said.

She added, “We can play our part by standing with Imran Khan, because he is standing for Pakistan.”

With both Shahrez and Shershah now in police custody, the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) said it was “alarmed” by the arrest of Imran’s two nephews.

“The fact that the arrests were made 27 months after the incident is difficult to understand for any independent observer, having occurred at a time when the trials of other accused persons have been long underway or already concluded,” the HRCP said in a statement.

The commission said it was “deeply concerned about the further backsliding of citizens’ rights and expresses its disappointment in the policing and legal system, particularly when it comes to dealing with political opponents”.

“We demand that the authorities ensure transparency and the rule of law in all such matters,” the HRCP added.

Shahrez’s wife, Maria, wrote on her newly made X account that the triathlete was in Chitral on May 9, 2023 at her family home.

She shared a purported image of the metadata of a group photo taken in Chitral that day of Shahrez with her family and friends.

Imran’s son Kasim Khan, who along with his brother Sulaiman has been more vocal in recent months about his imprisoned father, had termed his cousins’ arrests as “blatant state repression”.

Minister of State for Interior Tallal Chaudhry defended the arrests yesterday, saying they could not be chalked off as “fake, fabricated [or] politically motivated”.

He asserted that both siblings were present at the scene of the Jinnah House vandalism.

ATC hearing

Similar to the request made in Shahrez’s case, the prosecution today sought Shershah’s 30-day physical remand in the Jinnah House attack case registered at the Sarwar Road police station.

“The suspect was present at the crime scene. A weapon was used at the site,” Sipra told the court, adding that Shershah was allegedly seen in a video from the incident.

“The suspect’s social media accounts have to be recovered,” he contended.

On the other hand, Raja argued that the arrest was “illegal”, noting it was made 27 months after the incident.

“The suspect had appeared in this same court yesterday with Shahrez and was arrested the same day,” the PTI counsel said. “Where was the police for 27 months?” he asked.

Raja, citing the Supreme Court’s previous directives related to videos, contended that a video had “no value [as evidence] till the person who recorded it appeared in court and spoke of its authenticity”.

Aleema’s lawyer, Advocate Rana Mudassir, detailed that Shershah was arrested while on his way home after appearing for his brother’s case hearing.

“This case is like Shahrez’s case. We request that the court discharge Shershah from the case,” Mudassir pleaded.

The Pakistan Meteorological Department (PMD) has forecast heavy rains in Sindh and eastern and southern Balochistan from August 27 to 29, as a fresh monsoon system moves in from the Arabian Sea and Bay of Bengal.

According to the PMD, Karachi and other parts of Sindh are likely to be affected from August 27. Rainfall is also expected in Mithi, Tharparkar, Umerkot, and Mirpur Khas from Saturday evening until August 26, with intermittent gaps. Similarly, districts including Barkhan, Musakhel, Loralai, Sibbi, Zhob, Kalat, and Khuzdar in Balochistan are likely to receive showers during this period.

The PMD earlier predicted torrential rains with wind and thundershowers across upper and central Pakistan between August 23 and 27.

Meanwhile, the National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) has issued a weather alert, warning of heavy rainfall in Karachi and Hyderabad between August 24 and 28. The authority cautioned residents about the risk of urban flooding in low-lying areas and advised citizens to avoid travelling on waterlogged roads and to stay away from electric poles and exposed wiring during downpours.

The NDMA also directed all relevant departments to remain on high alert and ensure emergency response measures are in place.

At least 15 people have already lost their lives in Karachi due to rain-related incidents this week, as the city once again faced urban flooding and infrastructure failures in the aftermath of heavy monsoon showers.

Islamabad [Pakistan] August 23 (ANI): A recent evaluation conducted by the humanitarian organisation Islamic Relief indicates that 60 per cent of families in the severely affected regions of Buner and Swat have experienced a loss of their livelihoods due to flash floods, alongside significant destruction of homes and agricultural land, as reported by Dawn.

The emergency response team from Islamic Relief is actively distributing food and water in the area, and their assessment reveals that 73 percent of residences are either destroyed or partially damaged; 60 percent of individuals in Buner and 53 percent in Swat can no longer provide for their families; 80 percent of the farmland in Buner has suffered damage; and almost half of the livestock has died or been swept away, according to the Dawn report.

The assessment also points out that 40 per cent of households are already reporting occurrences of diarrhoea, with water-borne illnesses spreading due to contamination from the bodies of victims and livestock, along with the destruction of sanitation facilities.

Raza Narejo, the acting country director of Islamic Relief Pakistan, stated, “While the flood waters are now receding, the consequences are significant and will impact the community for an extended period. The most vulnerable populations have seen their jobs and incomes devastated almost instantly, with 60 per cent of workers in the Buner district now unable to support themselves following the floods,” as noted by Dawn.

Pakistan’s National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) has warned of heavy rainfall and possible flooding in various regions of the country between August 23 and August 30, as reported by Geo News.

The NDMA’s advisory forecasts that Gilgit-Baltistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa will experience scattered showers and thunderstorms. The authority warned that localised heavy rains could lead to flash floods, landslides, and glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) in mountainous areas.

Districts including Chitral, Dir, Swat, Shangla, Mansehra, Battagram, Abbottabad, Malakand, Peshawar, Charsadda, Nowshera, Mardan, Tank, Bannu and Lakki Marwat are likely to be affected, as per Geo News. (ANI)

(This content is sourced from a syndicated feed and is published as received. The Tribune assumes no responsibility or liability for its accuracy, completeness, or content.)

A major network of Indian intelligence agency, RAW, involved in terrorist activities in Karachi and other Pakistani cities has been busted, reported 24NewsHD TV channel. 

Addressing a news conference in Karachi on Saturday, Additional IG Counter Terrorism Department (CTD) Sindh Azad Khan and DIG Captain (retd) Ghulam Azfar Maheesar said the outcome was the result of a joint operation by the CTD Sindh and federal intelligence agencies.

AIG Azad Khan said they were able to pick the first lead while investigating murder of 45-year-old Abdur Rahman from Badin, who was a victim of target-killing on May 18 in Matli.

“During our investigation we found evidence of RAW’s involvement,” Azad Khan said and added “RAW provided massive funds for terrorism and target killings in Pakistan.”

The CTD officer said they also have the travel history of the accused.

“Abdur Rahman’s murder was orchestrated by an Indian agent identified as Sanjay Sanjeev Kumar, also known as Fauji. The suspect, believed to be operating from a Gulf country, allegedly hired Salman, a resident of Sheikhupura, to carry out the killing,” Azad Khan said.

The CTD officer said the arrest of suspects linked to the network has provided crucial evidence about RAW’s activities in Pakistan. Further investigations were under way to trace other members of the group and their local facilitators.

It was almost deja vu. We’d walked through this foul water before. Felt our way through barely recognisable streets from memory. When you live in a city like Karachi, it almost begins to feel normal. And yet, nothing can get you used to the fact that you — the privileged you, who has made a living out of writing on the city’s myriad governance issues — will be among the thousands stranded in water-clogged streets as you experience it in real time. Time and again.

In 2020, when Karachi witnessed one of its worst floods in decades — it can’t definitively be the worst because we like beating our own records — my dad and I walked back home, to Garden West, from I.I. Chundrigar Road in waist-high floodwaters.

At 55, my father was surprisingly surefooted with the stride of a mountain goat. He dragged me through the deluge, all the while making sure to keep an eye open for potholes, ragged stones and bare electric wires. He even cracked a joke here and there to ensure that the neurotransmitters in my brain remained balanced.

Five years on, as we relived the ordeal, wading through a mix of sewerage and rain water on the night of August 19, it suddenly dawned on me how drastically things had changed. The roles had reversed, and I hadn’t even realised it until we were in the thick of the storm.

Over 150mm of rain and Karachi had once again sunk. Why that happens every time and what the authorities are doing about it are questions all of us Karachiites ask every monsoon season. By now, we have come up with newer and better questions: Why does the mayor keep pretending all is well even as thousands of Karachi’s citizens remain stranded? Why can’t we plan better? Is it getting worse with each passing year? Is this the new normal?

Unfortunately, nothing has changed about the responses. It is a tale told and heard a gazillion times: “Jab zyada barish ati hay to zyada pani ata hay.”

I have been told I don’t learn from my mistakes (I get that from my dad), and so, living up to the reputation, I was at my workplace at 10am sharp on Tuesday. It had already begun raining before I logged onto my computer. The weather apps flashed red with warnings of rain that was going to last the entire day. But I was unfazed.

When are these predictions ever accurate? So I got to work, resolute and focused to file the story that was sitting in my drafts for days. At around 1pm, my boss came in and cautioned of an impending rainstorm. “Leave now,” he warned.

I brushed him off initially, but then it did start raining quite heavily. By 3pm, the sky was hidden behind thick and dark clouds, intimidating us. I immediately called my dad. “What’s the plan?” I asked him. He told me to stay put, his soothing voice devoid of any worry or anxiety.

And that’s exactly what I did. Even when nerves got the best of my colleagues, I remained calm. “Abba hain naa,” I thought to myself. You see, my father and I are partners in crime and despair. And in my head, it was supposed to stay the same forever; he would handle everything, he was invincible, and age, well, that was just a number.

Little did I know that this city was going to prove me painfully wrong. It gets to the strongest of us.

By 6pm, panic had started to settle into our building. There was a mess outside — a massive traffic jam, inundated roads and a downpour that just wouldn’t stop. And then, to make matters worse, the power went out. As the clock struck 8pm, the water levels on the main arteries had risen significantly, and it was pitch black.

I got a call. Father was downstairs. I was told to leave my bag upstairs and come with essentials — mobile phone and spectacles — tightly packed in a plastic bag. I did as told, and when I got to the main gate of our building, my lanky dad stood in drenched clothes and jeans folded up to his knees. He had already done some walking.

He was smiling his usual toothy smile, but the stress lines were evident on his face. There was no way to get home but to walk. He gripped my hand and we began the long journey ahead of us.

As we waded through the waters in front of Shaheen Complex, mixed with a bit of everything from rainwater to raw effluent, a feeling of disgust crept through me. Immediately, my father’s hand tightened around mine, this time not to give support but to take it as his foot got entangled in a floating plastic bag.

At 60, he was recently diagnosed with Carpal tunnel syndrome — a condition caused when the median nerve, in the carpal tunnel of the wrist, becomes compressed.

He kept losing his footing, almost falling twice if I hadn’t caught him in time. When he almost stepped on a bare electric wire, I didn’t hold back in scolding him, and henceforth made sure to make a small announcement every time I saw one.

These announcements continued even when a slope or steps came along the way. “Acha acha, baap ko mat sikhao,” he would say, laughing it off while also listening intently. At some instances, especially when we moved from a footpath to the main road, I took the first step to make sure that the ground beneath was solid, feeling with my feet where the eyes couldn’t see through the murky water.

In a few spots, I fumbled and almost fell headfirst into the water, but, miraculously, I ended up restoring my balance and that of my father. Later at night, I saw how these instances had left red scars on my feet.

In other places, when I faltered, strangers, who were probably as vulnerable as we were in that moment, signalled an open manhole, a leaking drain or a rocky crater. Even when nothing was said, their presence alone was comforting.

We were all one, abandoned in our struggle against a force we had no control over. A man dragging his wife on a motorcycle through the inundated streets. A group of chador-clad women walking back home, cursing at every passing car that splashed water on them. A father and daughter, walking almost two hours to get home, otherwise a 20-minute drive.

When we finally got to the road opposite the Pearl Continental Hotel, the water on the roads receded from our waists down to our toes. At first, we tried to stop a rickshaw, but every one of them was occupied. Some stopped in a frenzy, not to give us a ride, but to ask for directions.

So we continued our trek. There were moments when I would walk fast, too fast for dad to keep pace. I could see him heaving, out of breath, but not saying anything, and so I would slow down, the same way he did five years ago.

After walking for 10 more minutes, we stopped outside a shut-down bank along the route to take shelter under a leaky makeshift shed. By then, the rain was accompanied by gusts of strong wind, and so a break was necessary. We stood there, both looking intently at the road and the cars passing by, trying to gauge the velocity of the rain droplets.

Suddenly, a man, attired in the uniform of a security guard, walked up to us. “Sir, ma’am, please take our seats,” he offered in the sweetest tone. We refused politely, but he was so insistent that my father had to give in. A few minutes later, he brought two glasses of water. It was later that I realised how this small act of kindness helped dad cover a long distance on foot.

To think of it, he understood it before I did — I was the one in charge now; looking out for potholes, stones, and bare electric wires, cracking a joke now and then, and criticising the administration that was nowhere to be seen.

When we finally reached the Abdullah Shah Ghazi shrine — which is just a few kilometres from my current residence — we stopped. I was tired and worn out. So was he, but he tried his best not to show it. We decided to get a ride home. Fortunately, we were lucky to find one.

Had my father been in the lead, he would have made sure that both of us walked all the way, that he didn’t show his fatigue to me, and that he reclaimed his title of being the saviour for the umpteenth time. I may be his daughter, but I am not him, no matter how much we resemble, both physically and in personality.

“Baap to baap hi hota hai,” he joked later that night at the dinner table when I shared details of the journey with my family. And while everyone giggled, I couldn’t help but feel the invisible weight of living in a city where everything changes but nothing changes.

And this isn’t just about me or my dad. It is about the sister who called me a dozen times, worried sick, because she couldn’t reach my 25-year-old colleague. It is about the stranded Foodpanda rider I saw near Teen Talwar. It is about my friend whose newly bought car, a white Alto, was submerged in water on Sharea Faisal. It is also about our maid who didn’t have electricity for nearly two days.

It is about us, the citizens of Karachi, called ‘resilient’ every year, but fast running out of resilience … and hope.