THE morning of March 8 was sunny and bright but it brought no glad tidings, no heralding of great joy.

News arrived that an old friend, Muhraj Goculdas, had died in Bombay, that another old shipowner friend, Fakhruddin Milwalla, had been taken to the Aga Khan hospital and was on a ventilator in the CCU; that yet another old friend, Omar Kureishi, was on a ventilator at the Ziauddin Hospital; that a younger friend, former politician, former sole woman ship-breaker in the world, attractive socially active Salma Ahmed, had been arrested by NAB and locked up in a women’s cell with criminals, druggies, and hookers in totally inhumane and horrible conditions; and that an even newer friend, Shaukat Aziz, had descended on Karachi which bode sheer disaster, a day of frustration and rage for those who had to use our roads.

This last, I of course knew, his expected arrival having been announced in the press.

The day before an invitation from Ishaq Khan Khakwani, friend, polo player, politician, party-hopper, and now our minister of railways, had been delivered to my house. With it came the message that he would be most pleased if I could be present at the revival of Karachi’s Circular Railway to be presided over by the unnamed ‘chief guest’ who was programmed to arrive at the City Station at 1145 hours. Obviously, it was the prime minister who was to ‘grace the occasion’.

What a waste of time. To get to the railway station, one had to plough through closed off thoroughfares, lines and huddles of policemen and security men, mobiles full of rangers. To give Minister Khakwani his due, he arrived soon after the appointed arrival time of 1130, accompanied by his understudies and staff.

We all waited, and waited, and went on waiting till finally at 1330 I walked over to Khakwani to bade farewell and left in search of my car. Impossible to locate it amidst the thousands of parked cars, the crowds, the law enforcement men, and even more impossible when the sirens and whistles started to blow, and along the blocked roads rolled the prime ministerial motorcade of bullet-proof tinted-glassed Mercedes with its escort of armed vehicles.

At this stage the only sensible thing to do was to cross the road on foot and visit my banker, and sit it out with him while the thoughtless, selfish and inflated officials did their bit ‘in the larger national interest’. Having received an invitation card to yet another inauguration by an unnamed ‘chief guest’ at the Tabba Heart Institute which informed me that access to the premises would not be possible after 1415 hours, after half an hour my banker friend sent his men out to locate my car. It was not to be found, so he kindly sent me off in his car so that I could get to Azizabad-Karimabad in due time.

There was the usual delay, the usual speechifying, but Tabba has built an excellent facility and the people of Karachi must be thankful to him and to his family. The institute will run on a no-profit basis, but even then it is hard to imagine how the poor will be able to afford the charges.

Shaukat Aziz is a reasonable man — or at least he was until contaminated by the rarified air of Islamabad which does the strangest things to those who occupy its various power houses. However, something must still remain, and he should be able to tell the hordes of sycophants and tufthunters who pursue him to persuade him to ‘grace’ their various inaugurations, laying of foundation stones, unveiling of plaques, etc, that apart from the absolute futility of these occasions and the utter waste of money, his presence can cause nothing but misery for the people of the city he visits. He should spare a thought for the thousands of unfortunate road-users whose lives he disrupts.

One suggestion, as far as Karachi is concerned, is that if he must continue to ‘grace’ occasions, if he is compelled to do so, then he could air-lift or helicopter himself into Malir Cantonment, and base himself there in a specially constructed secure bunker. Those who feel the need for his blessings and photo-opportunities could visit him there, carrying with them the foundation stones or plaques or what have you, so that Shaukat could mumble a few words over them and perform a token ceremony. This, of course, also goes for all future prime ministers who may follow him.

Now, to revert to the plight of Salma Ahmed, she is in great distress. Her problem revolves around a very expensive plot, which many a land grabber would love to grab, and to certain unreturned loans. The workings of our governments, this enlightened and moderate one included, can be exceedingly strange. Many of our grand larcenists and loan defaulters sit today in the great cabinet stadium, or on the benches of the assembly, drawing fat salaries and allowances, enjoying many perks and privileges, and making hay while the Musharraf sun shines on them. They are sacrosanct. They can get away with it all. For now, for sure, but we can only hope that it will not be for ever.

Salma’s plot allotment story started way back in the days of wily old Ziaul Haq, in the 1980s. Investigations began only after the arrival of NAB, and her case is now sub-judice in the Sindh High Court. At one stage, her name was put on the ECL, but was removed last November. Since then she has attended various enquiries and answered whatever questions were put to her.

She was summoned to Karachi’s NAB headquarters on the afternoon of March 7, supposedly for a discussion. She was kept waiting for around three hours and then presented with a warrant of arrest which had been faxed in from NAB, Islamabad. She was taken to the women’s police lock-up in Civil Lines and put in a room which she shares with some 20 other unfortunate women. Facilities are less than basic, they have been provided with a hole in the ground which is also used by their male guards.

Salma has a 90-year old mother, who is helpless. Two married daughters and a poet-philosopher brother are running around seeking help. According to law, she must stand innocent until proven guilty. Her bail application has been filed in the High Court. The all-powerful NAB generals should make random visits to the lock-ups they use to see for themselves the conditions in which their subjects are held. Have they no mothers, wives, sisters, daughters? They should have some consideration for human values.

E-mail: arfc@cyber.net.com