I want to be a pilot when I grow up,” says 12-year-old Ghazala from Saidu, her eyes lighting up. But within seconds hope is replaced with doubt.
The children of Swat still live in an environment of fear and uncertainty. They fear both the army and the militants, says a teacher at Ghazala's school.
Fear, she says, has contributed in a big way to the low turnout of students and could have an adverse impact on the upcoming Oct 1 exams.
Swat was once the centre of learning not only for the Swatis but also for students from neighbouring Shangla, Dir and Buner. With the rise of the Taliban, some 300 out of 1,500 educational institutions were razed to the ground.
But now, with the military claiming that 90 per cent of the territory has been cleared of the terrorists, why are the children still afraid?
There is no major change, says Farwar Khan, principal of the Swat Public School and College. He says that the army's presence has done little to benefit education in the region.
Schools are occupied by the military and the ongoing shelling by the army in many parts has a damaging effect on children.
A lot of tension still exists; it is just that the source of fear has shifted now — from the Talib to the army.
A. Hussain, the principal of a local boys' school in Balogram, says Before the military offensive bullet-riddled and blood-stained bodies were a common sight.
He alludes to the ominous spectacle of bodies lying at Green Chowk referred to as 'Khooni Chowk' or 'bloody intersection'.
The same is true today, he says. First the Talib were responsible, now.... He is silent.
With a spree of revenge killings it is not uncommon to see the corpses of alleged Taliban supporters. This sight too has traumatised children of the area as has the sound of shelling that echoes from the hills of Kanju, Kabal and Matta.
These sounds keep us awake all night, says Hussain. Many children are afraid to venture out of their homes and consequently not many students turn up at school.
Children dread the return of the Taliban. Very recently two schools were set ablaze in Timergarah, says Naseema Bibi (real name withheld on request), who recently travelled from Karachi to the Maidan area in Lower Dir, where she was teaching at a girls' school before fleeing the conflict zone.
Such activities, she says, have strengthened the local belief that the Taliban remain a potent force. Fazal Mohammad, principal of the High School in Qambar — Qambar was once considered a Taliban stronghold — echoes her views as he talks of how he found a bomb on the school premises.
Many students were frightened, he says. They were convinced that the Taliban were still lurking in the area.
Although the return of 1.8 million IDPs within four months (since their displacement) can be viewed as a positive measure, yet the writ of the government which is still challenged in certain pockets of Swat, is causing locals to have little faith in the authorities.
We were expecting this, says 17-year-old Fahad who resides in Qambar. He says that his family and others were being misled by the government when they were asked to return home — just as they misled the people of Bajaur, he says, referring to what he perceives as the lack of government support for tribal Lashkars or village defence committees.
With the situation still somewhat unstable, some parents have contemplated leaving their daughters with their extended family in safer areas.
Ruqqiya Wahab, who came to Karachi with her husband and two daughters from Matta following the launch of the military operation, isn't prepared to take her girls back home.
My daughters will remain with my mother in Karachi, she says. Taking them back to Swat at this point would be tantamount to signing their death warrant. I cannot ruin my children's future. In Karachi, they at least have a chance to go to school.
But what about the ones with fewer options?
Eleven-year-old Fatima has no choice but to go back. As she boards the bus in Karachi to journey back to Timergarah, she is unsure if her home still stands. She asks her mother what they will do if the shelling continues.
With no reply, Fatima's thoughts drift towards her school, Ma, she asks, fear lurking in her blue eyes, will I be able to go to school, will I be able to study?
Keeping in view what the children of this war-torn valley and its adjoining areas experienced the fears of Ghazala and Fatima cannot be dismissed. But the re-opening of cinemas in Mingora this Eid (another sector that was sorely targeted by the Talibs) can be seen as a harbinger of change and although uncertainty and fear prevail, there is hope that if the authorities do not go for another compromise, and continue to push back or eliminate the militants, then things may improve tomorrow.
Dear visitor, the comments section is undergoing an overhaul and will return soon.