UMERKOT: In the early hours of dawn, Mannu escaped on foot from the feudal landlord who had made him and his family hostage and was demanding a Rs300,000 payment for a loan that Mannu did not borrow for their release.

He knew the police were under the landlord’s influence so his destination was elsewhere. Walking for miles, he arrived at Dr Ghulam Haider’s two-room makeshift office. Haider heads a human rights organisation which helps modern-day slaves like Mannu in Sindh’s Umerkot district.

I was interviewing him when Mannu arrived. Haider excused himself and got straight to business with the peasant, who looked tired and wore tattered clothes.

“What’s the problem?” he asked Mannu as he opened his complaint register.

“My landlord is demanding Rs300,000 in exchange for the land he gave us to live on and for food, even though we agreed that he was going to pay me for working on his fields and give me free food and shelter. We just want to leave now but he is not even allowing that,” he said, as Haider scribbled down his story.

Haider said Mannu could stay the night in one of the rooms at his office but the peasant refused. “If the landlord finds out I am missing, my family can get into trouble. He has already threatened to kill us if we try to leave,” he added fearfully, before heading home with a promise to return whenever Haider called him.

The next step, Haider told me, was to file a habeas corpus petition at the local court. Following this, the judge gives a written order to the police to produce the enslaved peasants in front of the court. This process, which takes a couple of days to complete, is not filed under the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1992, because of the pressure the police face from the landlords, Haider explained.

According to a recent global slavery survey, of which Haider has a copy, Pakistan ranks third in the world with two million plus slaves. The report says that efforts in Pakistan to eradicate slavery are “token at best and non-existent at worst”.

In a couple of days, Haider heard from the judge’s office, and called me and Mannu to the court, where Haider handed Mannu the court orders. We decided to leave for the police station right away. At the police station, Peer Bakhsh — the officer in charge— greeted us all and went through the documents. “He has no choice but to help now,” Haider happily whispered to me.

There was a further round of discussion among the policemen as to how to rescue his family because of possible resistance. Peer Bakhsh called his superior officer and was instructed to take as many men as possible and conduct the operation around dusk since at that time the landlord’s men were usually not around.

“Things can get out of control at times,” the officer explained as he instructed his men to prepare.

Moments later, the policemen with their guns jumped into their van and headed to the farm where Mannu worked. Luckily, there was no resistance. However, Haider told me about a recent raid in which armed men attacked the police team and the enslaved peasants. An eight-year-old boy from the bonded labourer’s family was killed in the shootout.

Later, the police caught two suspects involved in the shooting whom I also met separately. They were being held at another police station. Both men denied their involvement, but acknowledged there was a monetary dispute. “Those peasants wanted to leave without paying the money they owe us so things got heated,” one suspect claimed, adding that it was the policemen who opened fire.

Although Mannu and his family were fortunate enough to be rescued safely, Ghulam Haider, who offered to take him and his family to the organisation’s shelter home, was not too optimistic about Mannu’s future.

“We’ll be rescuing them again from somewhere else. This goes on being repeated because the landlords have political connections with Sindh’s ruling elites and they continue to use debts to trap them,” he said, before disappearing into the night with the police and the freed family.