Shahrag - the Pakistani town where boys aren't safe from men. Dawn
report.
Sometimes, in some places, wherever you look, you can only see wolves pretending to be human.
The town of Shahrag is one such place.
Situated in a valley in Harnai district in Balochistan, Shahrag
boasts “300 to 400” coal mines that are mined by “over 30,000 men.” There are
children working the mines, too, but an official count does not exist.
The district is predominantly populated by Pashtuns but a sizeable
population of Marri Baloch are also scattered across its mountainous areas.
Pashtuns own the majority of tribal lands in Shahrag and also live in great
numbers in the town. The southern part of the Shahrag tehsil is where
coal-laden mountains exist. And it is also here that the Marris live and work.
“In Shahrag,” in the words of a local Pashtun dweller, “one cannot
remain jobless thanks to these mountains. If someone brings 200 men to me this
very instant, I can appoint them straight away at the coal mines.”
This is why most workers here are from Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and
Punjab. There is also a chunk of workers who come from across the Afghanistan
border. Together, these constitute about 80 percent of the workforce while the
remaining 20 percent workers are locals and Baloch, especially from the Marri
tribe.
Shahrag in Balochistan is known as a coal-mining town. But it also
hides an ugly secret
On the face of it, Shahrag is a traditionally patriarchal society
and fairly religious, too. Women hardly come out of their homes and men tend to
rule the roost around here.
But Shahrag is also completely cut off from the rest of
Balochistan. Nobody there quite knows what is happening in the rest of the
country. Nobody in the rest of the country cares much for Shahrag either.
In this isolation, Shahrag has managed to hide its big, ugly
secret: its boys are not safe from its men.
In the name of
'responsibility'
When 13-year-old Kaleem* reached the coal mines from Dir earlier
this year, he didn’t expect much fanfare upon his arrival. But a colony of
miners was waiting for that day to arrive.
And as soon as he set foot on the Al-Gilani branch of the
mountain, where some eight coal mines are situated, the excitement became
tangible. News that Dir’s coal miners had brought in a new guy to the mines
spread like wildfire. He became the talk of the town and even miners from other
coal mines arrived to take a look at the new boy. Kaleem wasn’t quite the new
bride but quickly became the new boy that many men were lusting after.
I left Shahrag city to head to the mountains early one day to meet
Kaleem who I had been told about by locals. Along with about 20 others,
including two boys around his age, Kaleem is housed in a mud-and-stone cottage
at the top of a mountain. There are only two bedrooms and one kitchen. In the
room where we sit down for a chat, there is no light other than whatever little
comes from the burning stove.
Kaleem is wearing a black shalwar kameez over a yellow sports
shirt. Fortunately, he is alone in the house at the time, around 3pm, because
his elder colleagues are working “probably 1,700 feet below surface inside the
coal pit.”
There is a big, black teapot on the stove filled with water which
is boiling. He tells us that, over the last week, the weather has become frigid
in Shahrag. Sitting alone next to the stove, he looks neat and clean, his black
hair combed through the middle. After welcoming us, he does not utter a single
word; instead, he goes out to wash two cups. Without saying a word, he pours
black tea to serve us.
Kaleem is quite shy. He evades almost all questions put to him.
After a series of monosyllabic answers, he blurts: “I do not have a father. I
have come here to work to financially support my family back in Dir.”
What kind of work?
“I am a cook here,” he replies with a grim smile.
[Parents] turn a deaf ear to any complaints on the basis that
these children are earning money ... This is why Shahrag’s children have
“friendships” with people as old as their parents.
Kaleem has come to Shahrag to replace his brother. They are four
brothers. According to him, they belong to a very poor family. He studied till
primary back home but had to leave school because the family was reeling in
poverty.
“All children, including me, work here because we either do not
have elders [parents, uncles] or they are disabled and senile,” Kaleem adds. “I
am paid 10,000 rupees monthly.”
Herein lies the ugly reality of Shahrag’s coal mines.
Children such as Kaleem are brought here from Khyber Pakhtunkhwa
and even from Afghanistan for the sole purpose of sexually abusing them. They
are used as sexual partners by mature coal miners — these boys are either
unable to say no to unwanted advances or need the cash offered in exchange for
providing sexual services.
At first, even Kaleem does not want to talk about his situation.
When asked if his body is used for sexual services, he does not reply. He
simply leaves the room.
The first shift at the mines ends just after 3pm and the miners
begin to emerge. All of them come to sit with us and we quickly change the
discussion. The talk is now about the vulnerability felt by the coal miners in
the mines. As we are about to leave, I spot Kaleem sitting on a big rock and
chatting with a tall man.
“He [Kaleem] is their special guy,” relates a local miner
accompanying me. “The monthly payment he is given is remuneration for
satisfying their lust, not to work. They do not let him in the coal mine
because he will get blackened.”
Such treatment is not meted out to Shah Farman*, a 16-year-old who
arrived from Swat in 2017. Since then, he has been working as a coal cutter
against a monthly salary of 35,000 rupees. But while he is at the mines, he has
been routinely raped by adult men. Nobody bats an eyelid at what happens to
Shah Farman almost every day. They tell me, “It’s all normal.”
Abuse as a way of life
Sexual abusers come in all forms and sizes. But they present
themselves as ordinary human beings with an ordinary lifestyle.
For example, take Saqib*, a local coal miner in his early 40s. He
is a tall man. There are white patches in his black beard and moustache. On the
day we meet him, he wears a white cap and an old chador with which he has
wrapped himself up. He has been in the mining business for the last 15 years.
Saqib meets us at a playground situated away from Shahrag city,
near the Harnai road.
“The information you want to extract from me is strange,” he
shouts when I ask him the question. “How can I tell you that we sexually abuse
boys?”
But once he has settled down, he begins talking.
“Yes, I have had sex with boys in coal mines and even outside,”
says Saqib. “This is not new. Swatis and other Afghans have chhothus [young
sidekicks] who are their sexual partners. I do not have one because I am a
local. I cannot afford that.”
The coal mines are approximately up to 6,000 feet deep. According
to Saqib, children are also not spared there.
“We do have two to three children working inside the coal mines
with us,” discloses Saqib, “At the time of coal cutting, deep inside the coal
mines, we, the elder coal miners, have had sex with them, too. And [all this]
is routine.”
He pauses to stare into the distance.
“The more you work inside the coal mine, the more you start hating
it.”
He seems to imply that abuse is a form of escape.
The Red Cat and the mutkuli
children
Central to most activity in Shahrag is a bus stop — those bringing
coal from the mountains into the town or those leaving the town all tend to
make a stopover at the adda for tea and refreshments.
We are seated at a restaurant in the adda. Around us are dozens of
trucks, big and small. Some have already made the trip to the mines while
others are about to embark on the journey. Amidst the bustle, we are waiting
for a man known as Sira Pishi or ‘Red Cat’.
Boys volunteer their services at the
Shahrag bus stop. ─ Photo by author
Sira Pishi is actually a 56-year-old man who is a notorious child
abuser in the area. In the adda, he is known as Red Cat because he is
red-skinned and has a red beard and moustache. He emerges out of a corner,
wearing a black chador, a red Afghani cap and a beige coat. He greets us and
then says nothing. I put my cup of tea in front of him which he refuses. Instead,
he retrieves a few almonds from his kameez pocket, breaks their shells one by
one with a stone, and starts munching on them.
“Do you think I am a lunatic that I will speak to a man holding a
pen and notebook?”
Sira Pishi kept on eating his almonds as he waited for me to put
the pen and notebook back into my bag. Eventually, like Saqib, he too confesses
to having sexually abused children.
“Sometimes children come themselves,” claims Sira Pishi. “If not,
then I can smell which children can be lured [into having sex.]”
Although children, by and large, get some kind of work at the
adda, but when they don’t, sex work is always available as their fallback
option.
A teenager is the centre of
attention for adult miners. ─ Photo by author
His line catches me off guard. There are scores of children at the
adda. As we find out later, most are aged between seven and 18 years. How many
of them are vulnerable?
If Sira Pishi is to be believed, almost all these children have
been sexually abused by someone or the other. One of his victims is
nine-year-old Zulfiqar, who works as a mutkuli separating clay, sand and stone
from the coal. He has been working since he was six years.
“This [sexual abuse] is nothing new,” Zulfiqar waves the question
of abuse away. “Because all that we want is money. Our parents send us here to
earn money, no matter what it costs.”
Zulfiqar has four brothers and one sister. His father is unable to
work in his old age.
And he ended up at the adda because his mother wanted him to start
earning a wage as soon as possible.
“My mother once saw a neighbour’s children going out to work,”
describes the nine-year-old. “She saw that these kids would hand their mother
money for whatever work they could find at the adda. And so she also started
sending me to work.”
Zulfiqar’s main job is to help load trucks — everyday, he carries
at least 60 kg of coal on his little shoulders.
“I do so all on my own. Sometimes, I load four trucks along with
other children,” he claims, while wrapping himself up with a chador to save
himself from the cold.
“There are four children required for each and every truck.
Against it, we are paid 400 rupees per day.”
But such jobs require the boys to mingle with the men. In most
cases, they are supposed to work with mature men. This often means that they
give up their agency over their body as the men tend to inappropriately touch
them and spank them. This is the least of it; the more extreme form is rape.
“I want to become a truck driver,” shares Zulfiqar, “not more than
that.”
More probing into the whys of this dream reveals an uglier
reality: truck drivers tend to travel with a young sidekick who they can molest
and abuse at will. Twelve-year-old Faqir*, for example. All day long, he sits
in the driver’s seat of a truck and is only used as a sexual partner by the
men. He gets 400 rupees per day as compensation.
Although children, by and large, get some kind of work at the
adda, but when they don’t, sex work is always available as their fallback
option. Sira Pishi claims there are children who come to him themselves because
they know he will pay. Interviews with about 20 of these boys also suggest that
due to the fear of returning home empty-handed, they agree to get raped. In
some cases, children are shown greener pastures or given the promise of a gift.
‘Red Cat’ claims he regularly ‘used’ a boy in exchange for a cell phone. Other incentives
for these boys include drugs.
Background interviews with Shahrag’s children suggest that their
parents, in most cases, are aware of their children’s sexual exploitation. But
they turn a deaf ear to any complaints on the basis that these children are
earning money. And they desperately need this money to make ends meet. This is
why Shahrag’s children have “friendships” with people as old as their parents.
Meanwhile, Sira Pishi tells us he accosts children standing near
trucks. One boy is his favourite; he invites him over often during the
afternoon. Intercourse takes place in the confines of Sira Pishi’s home where
the boy can be made “to feel special.”
Mine to mine
Legend has it that 12-year-old Nasir was “attractive and handsome,
as most Afghan boys are.” His family had fled from Afghanistan and sought
refuge in Pakistan. To make ends meet, Nasir would sell everyday items to coal
miners. According to some accounts, coal miners would try to sodomise him. He
would refuse sexual favours but often had to go back to the same men to financially
support his family.
Nasir’s worst nightmare came to pass one day.
He went to one of the mines on his own but on his way back, he was
kidnapped, allegedly by two Afghan coal miners. After brutally raping him, they
killed him out of fear of reprisals and the police. They buried him in a nearby
mine so that the police and family members could not track him down. Before
anyone could find his grave, the culprits had already fled to Kandahar,
Afghanistan, and they could not be arrested.
The story is used by some locals to claim that most of the sexual
abuse is happening in and around the mines and not in Shahrag town proper.
Others explain this is just the tip of the iceberg.
Situated next to Harnai Road in Shahrag town is the Pakistan
Mineral Development Corporation (PMDC) office. On its website, the PMDC claims
to have leased over 6,551 acres of land in Shahrag. Over a cup of black tea,
young office assistant Shah Abbas Shah claims the department owns between 300 to
400 coals mines in the town but only just over 500 of workers are registered
with them.
The school saving boys from sexual
abuse. ─ Photo by author
Although Shah tells Eos that they monitor safety measures in the
mines on a daily basis, as well as look after the protection of children
working at the coal mines, the reality in the mines is obviously different. One
measure taken by the government is that it runs a school for coal miners’
children. Although it is a high school, it wears the look of a primary school
in a dilapidated state. The building’s walls are cracked. It neither has water
nor a bathroom (either for children or the teachers). Yet, it is a ray of hope
for children — in large part due to the efforts of Islamiat teacher Hafiz
Basheer.
Basheer wears a black waistcoat over white clothes and a white
turban. Among his colleagues, he is known as a “principled” teacher. He goes to
the coal mines and asks the parents to send the children to school, instead of
sending them to work. Sometimes, the parents relent; at other times, he is
shooed away.
“More than anything else,” says Basheer, “the sole purpose of his
asking children of coal miners to come to the school is to protect them from
social evils.” He acknowledges the fact that these children are routinely
sexually exploited. This is what always perturbs him, too.
Shahrag is among the places in Balochistan where children seem to
have been desensitised to the intimacy associated with sex. Intercourse seems
to be something to profit off of or a source of employment to forget some other
worry. And among the children, sexual exploitation has been normalised to the
extent that boys themselves show the same desires of lust and rape. This is
even before they have turned 16.
“When they first get admission here,” relates Basheer, “they
arrive not knowing anything. They know nothing about the outside world or what
is considered civilised. It is somewhat like living in the Stone Ages. Through
education, we are trying to get them to understand right from wrong. We are
trying to teach them their rights.”
The Government of Pakistan has also set up schools in Shahrag for
both boys and girls. Other than these schools, there are also madressahs in the
town. Having interviewed some parents about why they send their children to a
madressah instead of a school, the near-unanimous response was that only
religious education could help their children to heaven on the Day of
Judgement. This is the foremost reason that their children seek education in
madressahs, not in schools.
Basheer himself, despite being an Islamiat teacher, has been
unable to convince parents to send their children to school instead. One major
reason why parents are reluctant is the case of a student from Dir named Abid
Siddique.
Siddique was a position holder in his school till 2008 and
completed matriculation from there. Although his teachers had big dreams and
expectations of him, he is now back at the same coal mine, in the Al-Gilani
mountains, where he used to work as a child.
Between the lines, the teacher alludes to the psychological damage
that has been dealt to boys in Shahrag. Those raised on abuse will abuse
someone else, just as they were abused when they were children. There is ample
research that suggests that child abuse will repeat itself from generation to
generation. This cycle of abuse gravely impacts those who have been at the
receiving end of prolonged abuse because, once grown up, they are likely to
become the abusers and prey on children.
But there is no psychological or law-enforcement help at hand in
Shahrag. In fact, Quetta-based Chief Inspector of Mines Engineer Iftikhar Ahmad
Khan tells Eos that, “there are no children working at the coal mines in
Shahrag.”
Without acknowledging that a crisis exists, how can there be any
remedy?
Sexual abuse of boys and young men is not just a phenomenon
particular to Shahrag. Sahil, an Islamabad-based NGO that works with child
victims of abuse, notes in its 2018 report Cruel Numbers that as many as 3,445
children — 2,077 girls and 1,368 boys — were sexually abused in Pakistan in
2017. Balochistan reported only 139 cases of sexual abuse. These incidents were
all reported in the press but the number of unreported cases might well be
higher.
The report makes the claim that among reported cases, 467 cases
were reported under rape, 366 under sodomy, 158 under gang rape, 180 under gang
sodomy and 206 under attempted child sexual abuse. It also describes that 29
boys and 36 girls were murdered after being made victims of sexual abuse.
Around 961 victims fell in the age bracket of 11 to 15 years while 640 cases of
sexual abuse surfaced where the survivors were aged between six and 10 years.
In the 16 to 18 age bracket, 351 cases were formally reported.
Perhaps what sets Shahrag apart is the normalisation of child
abuse. Consider government records, for example. While the mines department has
recorded the number of adult miners working in Shahrag, the figure is
under-reported. These estimates have, in fact, not recorded the number of
children working in the mines or those working as house help etc.
On the other hand, the law in Pakistan does provide some
safeguards for children. The Pakistan Penal Code, for example, was amended back
in April 2017 to include stipulations against crimes aimed at children. Section
292-A criminalises any exposure of children to seduction. Similarly, Section
328-A describes the offence of cruelty to a child and its punishment. Sections
377-A and 377-B are explicitly about the offence of child sexual abuse and its
punishment.
The problem comes at the implementation end.
Desolation and desperation are accepted in Shahrag as
justifications for the practices of child labour and child abuse. The
government neither keeps a record of children working at the mines nor as
support staff. And any notion of child protection seems out of place because of
the prevalence of the practice.
“Sometimes, as teachers, we also become hopeless,” laments Hafiz
Basheer. “I thought Abid Siddique would be a role model for other children of
coal miners and he would be an officer somewhere in a government sector.
Contrary to expectations, he has started working again as a coal miner. This is
why children of coal miners always give me his example when I request them to
come to study in the school.”
** Names changed to maintain anonymity and privacy*
The writer is a member of staff.
He tweets @Akbar_Notezai
Published in Dawn, EOS, February 17th, 2019
https://www.dawn.com/news/1463990/shahrag-the-pakistani-town-where-boys-arent-safe-from-men
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