PESHAWAR:
Ten years have passed, but the grief and sorrow of parents who lost those nearest to their hearts in the massacre at the Army Public School on December 16, 2014, shows no signs of easing. For them, even if a century passes, nothing can numb the pain and suffering of the day their child, or in some cases, children, were chased, terrorised, and ultimately sprayed with bullets by bloodthirsty madmen.
Time is often credited as being the greatest healer. Sadly for these parents and other family members, it has been unable to work its magic. A decade on, mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters’ eyes well up with tears the moment the memory of the child or children they lost that day flashes before their days. Not even 10 years can slow down the flow of tears.
The only remnants these grieving families have to hang on to are their children’s books, school bags, and personal belongings.
On December 16, 2014, enemies of education, and indeed humanity, unleashed unimaginable cruelty by attacking the Army Public School in Peshawar, killing 147 innocent souls, including hundreds of children, and school principal Tahira Qazi, in a cowardly assault.
The families of the martyrs have not been able to forget their loved ones. According to APS attack survivor Muhammad Waleed, the very auditorium where the terrorists mercilessly opened fire on innocent children has now been transformed into a library, serving as a powerful testament to the terrorists’ ultimate failure.
Parents of the children who attained the highest rank of martyrdom still take pride in their sacrifices. The father of Muhammad Ali, a ninth-grade martyr, shares with Express that every item connected to his son holds immense sentimental value. “My son is gone, and now we live on his memories and stories.”
In the same stead, the parents of Asfand Khan, one of the martyred students, are still grieving their son.
They continue to cherish his memories, and their eyes well up with tears when they think of him.
Asfand’s mother shares that her son’s classmates have now completed their education and are working in various fields, with some becoming doctors and others lawyers.
She is certain that had her son been alive today, he too would have followed in his father’s footsteps and become a lawyer, fighting for the legal rights of those who cannot fend for themselves.
Martyr Asfand Khan was passionate about the law, and dreamed of supporting his father and pursuing the same profession.
However, the enemy’s attack robbed him of the chance to fulfill that dream. At the time of his martyrdom, Asfand was a tenth-grade student, and dreaming of representing his clients in front of the country’s top courts.
His younger brother, who is completing his matriculation, expresses his determination to fulfill his brother’s dream. He vows to complete his education, become a lawyer, and honor his brother’s wishes.
The walls of their home are adorned with pictures of Asfand Khan. His school bag, uniform, books, and other belongings remain untouched, just as they were before his life was cut short in a hail of terrorist gunfire.
“For the parents of the 144 children martyred by terrorists at the Army Public School in Peshawar, grief is eternal,” says Professor Altaf Hussain, who lost his six-year-old daughter on her first day of school at the APS.
“For me, the screams of children, sounds of roaring gunfire and scenes of bodies bathed in blood reenact themselves on a stage I am forced to witness daily,” says Professor Hussain in 2018 as he remembers the day he lost his beloved daughter Khuala four years prior.
The professor of English literature and linguistics at the APS senior boys’ section has little need to recall the events of that fateful day. He witnessed them firsthand and they burn through the annals of his soul daily.
To honor the unparalleled sacrifices of the APS martyrs, a memorial has been built at the school, where the nation pays homage to its brave heroes every year. Families of the martyrs also organised prayer ceremonies in their homes to commemorate their loved ones.
