In his early 60s now, Mr Hafeez is a soft-spoken and kind man but he smiles rarely or not at all.
Although sleep-deprived and fatigued, his eyes glimmer with memories of times that were, and hope for the days to come. He travels 200km every week, from Rajanpur to Multan, to meet his eldest son in incarceration.
Mr Hafeez’s son is no ordinary inmate — his name is Junaid Hafeez, formerly a visiting faculty member at Bahauddin Zakariya University (BZU), Multan’s, Department of English Literature.
He was arrested on March 13, 2013, after an FIR was registered accusing him of having committed blasphemy. It was while preparing Junaid’s legal defence that human rights activist and lawyer Rashid Rehman was gunned down. The case is sub judice.
Junaid has been lodged in the high-security ward number 2 of New Central Jail Multan. The on-duty policemen at the jail are often rude to his father; they don’t let him meet his son on any day other than Monday.
His son tells him that he is not even allowed to meet his lawyer for consultation in private; in a separate room where no prison staff monitors them and listens to their conversation. Despite his lawyer’s repeated requests for privacy, officials have denied them this right on the pretext of security.
When the case first came to prominence in 2013, finding a lawyer to defend Junaid wasn’t an easy job for his father. “I found a lawyer named Mudassir but on his first day, he was harassed by some 200 lawyers who had gathered to protest against him,” recalls Mr Hafeez.
At this point, director of Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP), I.A. Rehman, referred him to the late Rashid Rehman — a Multan-based lawyer who was also the HRCP’s organiser in Multan.
Mr Hafeez still remembers how Rashid had reviewed the case even before he was approached. “He had studied the case thoroughly, went on campus to find the facts, and was totally prepared.”
Later on, while talking to the BBC, Rashid had stated that taking such cases meant walking into the jaws of death. It was Rashid who had provided legal defence for Senator Sherry Rehman in a blasphemy case registered in Multan; he was physically assaulted for representing her.
At one hearing in the Junaid case, the prosecution lawyer, along with two third-party lawyers, threatened Rashid in open court to “leave the case or he wouldn’t be able to come to the next hearing”.
Despite the history and nature of active threats, no heed was paid to complaints lodged by the defending lawyer with the Multan police. Nor was any attention paid to a letter of concern sent by the HRCP to the Punjab government in April that year, expressing apprehensions about threats to Rashid’s life not being taken seriously.
On May 7, 2014, Rashid was shot dead in his office. With him gone, all hope for Hafeez’s family was crushed as no one else in Multan dared to defend Junaid in court.
But hope did arrive, some four months later, in September 2014, when the current lawyer (who prefers not to be mentioned by name) decided to take up the case — albeit from Lahore and not in Multan.
The lawyer now travels almost every other week from his hometown and has since been able to dissect claims and testimonies being made in the court.
Two years have passed since the murder of activist and lawyer Rashid Rehman, but there has been little progress in the case that he died defending
And yet, defending Junaid has not been easy for this Lahore-based lawyer as he is constantly forced to look over his shoulder for any potential assailants. It is only recently that police cover is provided to him whenever he visits Multan for case proceedings in the Central Prison.
Back in September 2014, he had petitioned to move the case from Multan to Lahore — a practice recommended by the law if the life of anyone involved, especially on the side of the accused, is in danger.
The then chief justice of the high court rejected the petition, commenting that there was not enough evidence to support the contention that the life of the accused or anyone representing him would be at risk.
To consult with Junaid privately for a critical hearing the next day, the lawyer travelled to Multan — only to find that prison staff on duty wouldn’t allow him to enter the prison because it was past noon. Prison officials refused to let him talk to his client over the wireless and he had to return.