Posts Tagged: pakistan

politics — 1 Comment
5
Dec 09

An education in terror

David Blair’s coverage of education in Pakistan – more accurately, the lack of education in Pakistan – threw up some interesting stats in the war on terror.

This year the central government will spend 66 per cent of its budget on defence and debt servicing, and only 2.5 per cent on education. Throw in the immense burden of corruption and there is precious little money for schools. The central education budget is only £478 million, or about £6 for each school-age child in the country. Defence, by contrast, receives £2.6 billion according to the official figure – and probably more in reality.

As Blair points out, over the border in Afghanistan primary school attendance for boys (although not for girls) is higher at 66% to Pakistan’s 23%. The situation for girls in Afghanistan is of course dire compared to boys purely because of ideology rather than finance, which is one reason why I don’t share Una Vera’s relative optimism about the position of women.

An entire generation of girls has not missed the opportunities afforded by basic education, and the current crop of female activists in Afghanistan is from the previous generation. Blair’s article is fair-handed about the role that madrassas play in offering rudimentary education to the poor, but he doesn’t look too far to the future. I can’t blame him – it’s not a pretty sight.

Lack of educational opportunities in Pakistan is the single biggest problem the country faces, a timebomb waiting to happen no matter who happens to be in power once the dust of the war on terror settles. It drives an even bigger wedge between the Pakistani elite and the people who they govern, and it closes the door to future growth for Pakistanis in every area of life.

The article does mention that DFID and other actors are investing in the educational system, but that the funding tends to go through the government, which creates problems due to corruption. So here’s an alternative suggestion: why not channel funding through the madrassas, an already existing network of educational facilities?

This gives Pakistan two opportunities. First, it won’t cost as much as starting from scratch, although obviously in areas where there are no facilities, scratch is all we got. Second, it creates more pathways for dialogue between the government and the people, undermining the monopoly that religious groups currently have.

For success, the key thing would be to work with madrassas to expand the curriculum beyond religious study, into relatively non-controversial areas such as science and languages. There’s no reason why, if it’s handled properly, at a future date madrassas could become integrated into the national education system. Not ideal, but better than what exists now.

I have no illusions that this would be ridiculously difficult to pull off, and that neither the government of Pakistan or the madrassas is likely to engage with it quickly, given their ideological antipathy. The tragedy of Pakistan is that nobody else seems to have alternative suggestions – it’s just business as usual, as if state-based education was the only meal on the menu.

politics — No Comments
5
Apr 09

Taliban to crowdsource mining operation

The Daily Times:

SHANGLA: More than 70 Taliban attacked the famous Gojaro Kalay emerald mine in Shangla on Wednesday and took control of the mining operations…

The Taliban took positions around the mine on Wednesday after the security guards fled. They announced to take control of mining operations and offered the locals to work with them and share the profits. They bought mining equipment from the nearby Kotkay Bazaar…

Sher Bacha, the nazim of the area, and the locals confirmed the report and said more than 1,000 people worked on the mine on Wednesday. Only 100 people worked at the mine before the Taliban takeover.

Here Comes Everybody!1

  1. Apart from women. [↩]
travel / writing — 15 Comments
16
Jul 08

So you want to leave Pakistan?

It’s not easy.

I love Pakistan; loved it so much, I never wanted to leave. Luckily, the Pakistani authorities felt exactly the same way – they never wanted me to leave either. Let’s take the checks one by one, so you know exactly what to expect:

1. The Bouncers. They check your ticket to make sure that you really have a ticket. Presumably some Pakistanis turn up at the airport with bags packed, but sans ticket – just in case they’re booked on a flight, but forgot. The bouncers also take on the additional responsibility of beating off any members of your extended family who managed to get through airport security.

2. Customs. They rifle through your luggage listlessly; when quizzed, they seem unsure what they’re supposed to be looking for. Once they reach a certain level of uncertainty, they give up. Having removed the entire contents of your suitcase, you must repack everything while the extensive queue behind you grows progressively more bloodthirsty. Once you’ve finished, they’ll scrawl something illegible in your passport and tell you to sod off.

3. Customs (Second Attempt). One pompous ass checks your passport to make sure that his more uncertain colleagues have done their job correctly and scrawled something illegible in your passport. If he’s happy with the level of illegibility, he’ll wave you through imperiously; if he’s not happy, he’ll call all of his colleagues over for a short conference lasting no more than 15 minutes. You may be required to repeat Step 2.

4. Security, Part One. This comprises:

  • A large and clearly hazardous scanning machine that occasionally breaks down, leaving your bag trapped inside.
  • A scanning machine operator who has come to terms with his mortality and is fully prepared to get inside the radioactive monster to force your luggage through.
  • A back-up operator who is ready to take over at a moment’s notice, should his colleague still be inside the machine when it starts again (which would presumably require his immediate hospitalisation, or possibly burial).
  • An attractive but unsmiling woman who will check your bag for metal objects, and radioactivity.

5. Security, Part Two. If your bag gets trapped in the machine, it must be dangerous. Therefore it will be searched.

6. Check-in. Finally we get to the actual check-in desks. Service varies depending on the will of Allah. There may be some confusion amongst the airline staff regarding which airline you are flying with, which desk you should check in at, and what they’re supposed to do with this piece of paper you’ve handed them. Use this opportunity to steel yourself for the next series of checks.

7. Embarkation. I hope you remembered to fill out the Government of Pakistan Embarkation Card, because this man wants to take it and stamp your passport. What do you mean, nobody told you about the Embarkation Card? You’ll need to go back to Step 6 (Check-in) and see if they have any left. It is possibly but not likely that your Embarkation Card will be stored alphabetically with the other 8,000 Embarkation Cards he has taken that day.

8. Random Step One. I’m never entirely sure what this guy is doing, and neither is he. Mainly, he wants to see your passport and boarding card. I guess they just gave him a stool and told him to find himself something to do. He seems happy enough.

9. Random Step Two. These guys are in a similar position to Random Step One. The only difference between Random Steps One and Two is that the lucky devils at Random Step Two were given a big desk to be random behind, rather than just a stool. With a dandy flourish, they’ll stamp your boarding card for you, whether you want it stamped or not.

10. Security, Part Three. The scanning machine is smaller, but this is much the same deal as Security Part One (see above). At this point, you will start to experience an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

11. Security, Part Four. Identical to Security Part Two, above.

12. Clickety-Click. Another stamp on your boarding card AND on your hand luggage tags. What, nobody gave you any hand luggage tags? It’s back to the Check-in (Step 6, above) for you!

13. The Gate. Once you’re into the waiting area, there’s only one gate – but it’s a treat! As per normal airport practice, they’ll check your boarding card when your flight is ready to depart. The catch here is working out when your flight is ready to depart, since announcements tend towards the incomprehensible. At first I thought that this was because the announcements were in Urdu; but when I listened more closely, I realised that they were in English. It was the ancient PA system that made them sound like Urdu.

14. Random Step Three. This man checks to make sure that your hand luggage has been tagged (step 6) and then stamped (step 14). Why does he do this? Who cares at this point. Just let me on to the bus to the plane. No bus today? Fine, I’ll walk. Just get the hell away from me. GET AWAY FROM ME.

15. One Last Check, For Terrorists. You thought you were free. At the steps to the plane, another uniformed guard will check your boarding pass to make sure that you’re not an intruder who has managed to get past the other 14 checks. God knows, if I were a terrorist in Pakistan, I’d pick an easier target. America, or the Moon, or something.

16. Boarding Card, Please. Your soul destroyed, you trudge up the steps to the plane, where an airline steward will check your boarding pass and let you know where to sit. You can breathe a sigh of relief – you have finally managed to leave Pakistan. Unless you’re flying with Pakistan International Airlines; in which case you have another 8 hours to enjoy Pakistan’s rich tradition of service and hospitality.