Balochistan: a case of social injustice.

A child in Loralai, Balochistan.

It might have been reported several times in the last six decades that there is an education crisis in Balochistan through various advocacy and human rights organizations, NGOs and even through government statistics. Over the years, the fact has become obvious that low literacy rate is the root cause for all the crises the province is engulfed with. The question is why all stakeholders have turned deaf? Stakeholders include the government at the center and province; it includes people like you and me who are based in developed urban centers.


As per the economic survey of Pakistan of 2009-2010, the literacy rate of Balochistan is hovering at 45% and the gender parity index (GPI) is 0.38 i.e. is the ratio of female enrollment to male enrollment. A GPI of more than one indicates that, in proportion to every male in the school, there is more than one female. So, you can see how critical the situation is in the province, especially for females. Additionally, the basic infrastructure at government schools is also in a wretched condition. 681 schools are without buildings, 7,689 are without boundary walls, 4197 are without drinking water facilities, 8,425 are without latrines, and 9,806 are without electricity.

The most critical gap is the lack of quality teachers and for this issue one party cannot be held as a scapegoat. The government has been unable to train quality teachers and Aghaz-e-Haqooq Balochistan has just given jobs with hefty salaries to teachers who barely qualify to be called one; cock eyed amongst the blind to be brutally honest. Moreover, only the rare honest ones give quality time to their students while the rest prefer to reach home before their duty hours are over. Most of them just spent a couple of hours at school and head back to their shells depriving ‘the future’ of a better future. Teachers are nothing less than guides; and if we are going to have such guides for our children, especially those in Balochistan, then only God can save Pakistan.

To control the backlash and the concerns of the Balochi people, the government was speedy in offering jobs to the unemployed youth in Balochistan and since education was a major concern several jobs were given in this particular field. But, due to hasty planning and non-existent monitoring and evaluation system, we look forward to a Messiah to descend and stop the carnage of education by the hands of government and the opportunists who are not performing their duties properly. A catastrophe which could have been easily avoided.

The above facts and figures are extremely worrying, considering the fact the population of Balochistan is approximately 1/3^rd of Karachi. But, there is light at the end of the tunnel and that light will not fade away only if we all start working with pure intentions – karma has its own unique way of handling issues. The change we dream about will not come out if we do not break the chains which tie us and come out of the cage (shells) we live in i.e. our comfort zones; our drawing rooms. Yes, debate is necessary, but taking instant and sensible actions is imperative.

Honestly speaking, even if an honest political and administrative is established, the revolution will not come overnight; especially considering the fact the internal and external debts of this country cross a 100 billion dollars. The solution lies in the hands of the Balochi people, you and me. The Balochis (which includes 45% Pakhtuns living in the province) have to instill the feelings of honesty in their teachers so that they perform their duties properly and have to make sure they also send their daughters to schools. In the meantime, you and me have to rally around in order to provide them the resources which can help them and the government to build basic infrastructures which will make a facility eligible to be called a 'school'. We have to step up and show our support so that the students can gain education comfortably because the economic situation in Pakistan will not allow to fix the budgetary issues related to education all of a sudden; we need to self-generate the resources required to restore sanity into the education system of Balochistan.

We accuse that the government indulges in luxuries; come to think of it, aren’t they from us and quite similar to us? No? Well, if ‘no’ is the case do remember constructing a boundary wall is less than the price of the latest 15” Macbook Pro, providing a drinking facility to 200 people costs less than the registration you pay in order to get your new Honda Civic registered with government authorities in Islamabad and constructing latrines sufficient for 50 students costs less than a Samsung Galaxy Tab.

No matter how corrupt our system and politicians are, but we cannot be oblivious in pushing them in a corner. Putting our leaders, our servants in real terms, in constant pressure will surely make them perform well. But, as emphasized earlier, the change has to start within us - the ordinary people, if we want to see it reciprocating in the masses and eventually in our leaders/system of governance. This is the only solution to exterminate illiteracy in one of the oldest civilization of the world – Balochistan.

Actions speak louder than words.

STEP UP, PAKISTAN!

Pedal for Peace: Journey towards Change and Hope

Pedal for Peace Team: Mohsin Saadat, Laeeq Ahmad, Natheer Moaid, Zain Sadullah, Mohsin Ejaz, Imran Khan and Abdul Basit

After seeing the destruction floods had caused last year and working to provide solutions factually every day till December 2010, life came to a pause, for a while. I was working for a UK based charity then and rescue and relief work was an everyday job. That pause proved to be the catalyst which gave birth to Pedal for Peace. It took me out of the oblivions of the world I was living in and trying to serve. It took me to the one which really mattered – the world where only I existed with The One who reins my life.

That little pause in my life taught me once again, if I had not heard it before, that change begins from within and would not reproduce in the outside world until the process is completed successfully within. I came back to Pakistan three years back after spending 23 years in UAE, the country where I was born in. After going through some hardships and being deprived of some basic fundamental rights in my birth country, I knew the ultimate goal of my life was to help those who I can with my time and resources; seeing someone suffering was too challenging to eyewitness anymore. In the process, I learnt humility is the key to success which eventually eliminated “I” and all what I was ever blessed with or later on was a blessing and a push forward by Allah towards the purpose of life He has decided for me to execute. But, I am no superman and I do get indulged in the materialistic world on and off which tries to plug me into a world of deceit and selfishness, reluctantly and unconsciously.

I was fortunate to get a full time job in the non-profit sector as soon as I came back which provided me the opportunity to serve and interact with thousands of people deprived due to the socio-economic situation, man-made and natural disasters. After observing the situation for more than two and a half years I realized it was not tents, clean water, food, shelters and livelihood which people needed. Peace was the ultimate need and demand; the things mentioned above were just the means to keep them alive to see their dream materialize and to become manifest.

As soon as I came out of the pause, I knew that if I want to achieve something for myself and for the people I have to care for, it just could not be a materialistic desire, it had to be a need and I knew that peace was the ultimate need. So, I decided that I would cycle from Islamabad to Lahore to kick start the change process. It was very tough in the beginning as nobody was ready to support, especially emotionally. There was a solid resistance at my home, especially from the side of my mother, my ultimate strength.

But, eventually, things started to roll. I started to discuss the idea with friends and organizations I knew. They wanted to become a part of it and wanted to pedal for peace; the idea just clicked with everyone right away. As of today, we have 4 non-profit organizations - Akhuwat, Taaleem Foundation, Essakhel Foundation & Human Relief Foundation - supporting Pedal for Peace to achieve what it has set out for. Seven more cyclists have joined this activity and the way the number is increasing, I am not sure how many would be there in the first week of January 2012 when we will set out from Faisal Masjid towards Minar-e-Pakistan. My family and especially my mother has now become a staunch supporter, she knows what it means to me and the rest.

Through our activity, we want to support those causes which we consider necessary in uplifting our community from the dearth of everything which is required to live our lives with sanity. Firstly, we want to support the education and basic needs of 25 orphans for a year at least. Secondly, to promote the need of health centers in rural areas, we are asking people to support in order to make an eye hospital in the deprived sub district of Isakhel in Mianwali.  Moreover, we want to revolutionize the education system in Pakistan, especially in Balochistan where literacy rate hovers around 48%. We want to build e-learning centers and libraries in districts engulfed with unrest and crises, such as Mastung, Dera Bugti, Kohlu, Pishin, Loralai, Zhob and Killa Saifullah. These steps are small and just might help three to four thousand people; but our intention is to make everyone realize that such steps have to be taken by the fortunate on a much larger scale regularly to make lives peaceful for those who are less fortunate.

The cyclists will go through a lot of challenges; from cold weather and security issues to health concerns and injuries, to name a few. But, what matters is the intention we all have set ourselves out for i.e. to achieve serenity within us so that we are able to witness the same outside, one day. Let the change begin.

True Warriors...

Found this heaven on my way to Zhob from Loralai

I should have written this long time ago, but as soon as I returned from Balochistan, I was caught in the cage and chains from which everyone tries to escape from. Nevertheless, it is a constant struggle to break the shackles of urban life, to get freed is not as easy as we think because our enemy is within us; the enemy which we feed with our own hands – the materialistic self ego.

To defeat this sonofagun, one has to get rid of the fuel and the vehicle it rides on to command and control every aspect of our life and body. It needs to be starved and maybe that is the reason why we are told to fast. To completely let it go, food intake control is always not enough, we need to switch off the world outside us to realize the world inside us; the world where no one exists i.e. where you find Him and find yourself in seclusion.

During my recent trip to Balochistan, I found such places of seclusion; especially, on the way to Zhob from Loralai through the deserted roads constructed most probably by the British from Mekhter Junction. I desired to stop, sit, think and desired to self realize and find Him to find peace. Though, I believe one has to travel in order to redefine oneself, but I realized it is not about my peace of mind anymore; I believe it’s not about give and take anymore, its just about giving and that is how one can reach salvation.

On my way to Zhob through the deserted plains and mountainous havens, I did not panic once. Well, I did not have another choice and I do well when I do not have much option. It took 6 hours of ‘off roading’ to cover 218 kilometers where life ceased to exist most of the time. But, at times, from nowhere a young shepherd with his flock of sheep used to come, stare at me and shock me for a while and my usual question to my driver Rasheed Lala used to be: “Ye Kahan se aya, Lala?” (From where did he come?)…

Rasheed Lala in his usual chuckling tone, “Pata nai yaar” (Don’t know friend...)

For most of the time, there was no road, after travelling for 3 hours down the tranquil atmosphere, we reached at Murgha Kibzai – surely a ghost town. From Murgha Kibzai, one road turns towards Zhob and the other one towards Musakhail District. We had tea over there and I interviewed the chap, Sakhi Jaan (generous life, yeah I know the translation doesn’t make much sense), who runs a ‘hotel’ (restaurants are usually called hotels in Pakistan). He has been running it for decades and showed me the delicacies he cooks day in day out. Took his photographs and showed him the pictures on my digital camera, surely the technology astonished him and I could see him moving around with his chest lifted a tinge. He was telling his customers that the story of his hotel would be published in Islamabad. I told him, the world will know about it, not just Islamabad.

Throughout the route, I decided to sustain myself to laugh until I see life everywhere once again i.e. until I see Zhob. Lala did not show a sign of irritation when I constantly reminded him of his long lost love, losing the track and that we have certainly lost our way and are in Afghanistan. After going through which many will term as ‘an ordeal’, I reached Zhob, that too in the Cantonment Area, relief!  Zhob was known as Fort Sandeman long back, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto changed its name to Zhob. I stayed at “The Castle” built by Lord Sandeman once again - as it was my second trip - but it did not excite me much this time round. I guess I am used to living like a king whenever I visit Zhob.

My next stop was Sui, which is in Dera Bugti, where I have heard people are against Punjabis, I was born in an Arab country which did not give me nationality, so I am from the Punjab province due to descent, that means I am in trouble. This was a problem and was the biggest one without doubt - I had no idea how to deal with it. The flight from Zhob to Karachi via Quetta was no doubt the worst flight I ever took – I had never witnessed so much turbulence during a flight. A medical team was called to check the condition of the Captain, when the flight stopped at Quetta; that is how bad it was. The flight to Sui was the worst, the Beech 1900 plane is an 18 seater plane, size of a drawing room above the average size, and when it flew through the air pockets in Dera Bugti, the plane used to lose altitude of more than 20 – 30 feet in one go. I asked for forgiveness throughout the flight and begged to be given another chance in life.

As soon as I reached Sui, I was welcomed by a young guy we have recently employed at Taaleem Foundation. We have thrown a Lahori dude to work in Sui and he is certainly not there just for money, the passion to succeed through the hardest channel is surely his desire, in fact I believe he has decided that it is his need to make the two ends meet in this fashion. I call people like him professionals and that’s how one should make a career i.e. by living like a dare devil. Our Sui School is run by an enthralling couple which decided to serve in Dera Bugti as soon as they graduated and got married. The adventure for them is still continuing and from the look of it they are enjoying the experience like anything. Providing education, that too English medium in a co education atmosphere in Balochistan is surely an adventure in every aspect; in which they thoroughly rejoice.

Anyways, I saw security guards, army personnel and FC guards in less than 2 kilometer of travel from the airport to the school. Due to the gas field, Sui is a highly protected area. For those who have forgotten or do not know, Sui is in Dera Bugti District where we get our CNG and cooking gas from and the operation was launched on Nawab Akbar Bugti and his followers by the sense less and the most useless President of Pakistan – General Pervez Musharraf - in its vicinity. 

I thought I would camouflage myself and the beard did help a great deal. But, I wanted to run back to the Airport as soon as I got to know that the last name of my driver in Sui was Bugti. For a second, I did panic, because here I was standing at the core where all the insurgency, hatred and separatist movements began and shook all parts of Balochistan and I was being told that a Bugti was going to take me around! But, I do well when I do not have much option and decided to live this one out.

To my surprise, the young boy was really humble and he did not have any feelings against me or my race, some still say he was hiding it. But, I could see it that this was not the case. Yes, Nawab was his leader, a leader he respected so much that he could have given his life; maybe I think. But, I was a guest and guarding me and providing me hospitality was a matter of honor too.

Coming back to Sui, you can fry an egg on the roof top of your car in Sui, that’s how hot it is in Sui; I usually preferred to stay indoors. Qadeer Saab, a senior and experienced teacher at our school and a funny character, did a good job at convincing me to go to Dera Bugti and I would have gone if I had more time. I have to go to Dera Bugti town the next time I come which is just 40 kms from Sui town; for now I convinced him to show me Sui – the Sui which was at the other side of the secured fencing area. We left without guards and he showed all the meaningful places over there. The Bugti fellow was with us too who drove us to the Military College Sui and other historical places such as the Bugti palace which is now under the control of security forces. The Army has recently opened a college and after 6 years the first batch of “Hub-ul-Watan” 30 captains would pass out, which the local populace has appreciated a lot, to my surprise.

We took some cold drinks to get some respite from the killing summer heat in the middle of the bazaar and nothing happened to me and to the other two Punjabis with me. After not being shot at the bazaar, I concluded the gist of the Balochistan situation: people over there do not hate us as we are told by the news we see scrolling day and night on our television sets, actions have to be taken to see that basic amenities are provided and the court has to provide justice they have been waiting to hear for more than a couple of years. I headed off to Karachi from there in the same aircraft, the journey was no better than the previous one, but as I said I do well when I do not have much options.

“I do well when I do not have much option”, I have said that more than a couple of times during this blog. You must be wondering why? Well, I learnt that due to Masood Baluch a.k.a. Munna Bhai. He was one of the first sophisticated Baluchs I met in my life, a (he is going to love this one) young and an energetic fellow who has done MBA and when he starts talking or working, even the whites wonder “Aey kitho aya hai?” (From where did he come?), you rarely find such species in Baluch people or in any race for that matter. But, he has got a problem; this guy gets confused whenever he has to choose a restaurant for dinner. For hours, at times, we used to roam around on the roads of Sharjah in wee hours to decide whether we should eat fast food, arabi, desi, pizza, meat, vegetables, lentils, spicy, Chinese, Italian, Indian, Ghora, Ghadda, Insaan … and the attitude did not change a bit till I was there. Now, he is married and I guess his better half has been successful somehow to tame the fellow. There were so many options and Munna Bhai over there; that I realized I can never do well when options are available because I used to be as confused as he used to be due to the availability of so many options!

I was meeting with him after sometime and it is always a pleasure to meet this Baluch family which I consider mine. Met her sister - who I consider as my phuppo (aunt) - and stayed at their place for two nights. After a long trip in Balochistan covering more than 2000 kilometers on the road it was good to be at home with people who are more close to me than my family at times. Shared my experiences of the war, the wild and the wilderness and heard some old stories from their side.

The one which I will end this blog with is going to shape my life, if it has not already, and of many others. This is from the experience they shared in Karachi round about 1 AM, the perfect time for such talks:


(Get your bowl of popcorn and drinks...)

My Phuppo went to Iraq to become a doctor. Everything was going merry go lucky in Baghdad. Unfortunately, the First Gulf War started round about the same time. I have always known her as an iron lady, but never knew her courage was much more beyond what I had perceived. She decided not to leave Iraq because she did not want to lose a year of education, such dedication is not easily digestible, please bear I can understand your how tough this is to believe. But, this is true.

She decided to stay and she informed her family that her decision is final. She decided to grab the bull by the horns and tame it into a pussy cat, her family lost contact with her for full 6 months which was an ordeal for all parties. She survived bomb attacks, missile attacks and “you-name-it” and she survived it boi! She used to ‘dry’ the food – tomatoes, bread and other vegetables – with her cousins on roof tops and survived on it for months. At times, the bread used to get so hard that it was hard to bite and digest. She came up with a solution, she cooked a stew which was as good as boiled water and all the survivors used to dip the bread in it, make it soft and gulp it down. Well, I can never praise her for that effort. 


When they were out of supplies, they just used to have one glass of milk as their only meal for the day. At times, they had to shift into bunkers during heavy fighting; one such bunker got hit and could not survive the hit. More than 5000 people burned to death not due to the after effects of a missile attack, but due to the hot water system in the bunker which got jolted due to the hit. The dead were not taken out, the smell was too unpleasant.

The sacrifice she made to achieve her dream is what we need from future leaders of Pakistan and what we need to do ourselves. I might be wrong, but I guess her dream was not just to become a doctor, as she has Baluch blood running in her body, she is a fighter by descent and did not want to escape when the tough becomes toughest straightaway, I don’t even know that has she realized this or not up till now, but chances are that she has not because being strong physically and mentally is a natural instinct of a Baluch. She could not disown the land which was not even hers, this was the country which promised to educate her when the rest refused or did not bother.

When she arrived back to her family, at the airport, there was a crowd to welcome the hero back. She told an airport official, pointing at the waiting lounge, from left to right, from one point to the end. “You see over there, that is my family which has come from all parts to welcome and receive me”, the official at the airport was spell bound, I was spell bound; I had tears of joy in my eyes, though I could not let it out because the Baluchs would have harassed me for the rest of my life, as I was living the moment there and then. Phuppo, I feel I was there at the airport, I felt I was there to receive you…

Such people I look up to. Such true warriors I meet everyday in my life. Such people He has decided that I have to take lessons from and I can only testify that we think that we plan and carry out what we do, but in reality He plans and we do what He commands; no doubt He is The Best Planner and we are nothing...

  

Cage and Chains - Part 2

We have chained ourselves and locked ourselves in a cage, we believe we are free, but in veracity we are prisoners. The signs of a free man are profuse. A free man is a comforted man, has peace in heart, is not restricted by any unconstructive energy and knows how to tell between between wrong and right with the aid of knowledge and not information.

During this era of technology and mass information, the so called “free” generally is seeking for awareness through television, internet etc. But, in fact, we are not seeking for information; we are being fed with it. We are disillusioned with the impression that we are receiving awareness simply because we are giving a shot. In pragmatism, it’s the other way round, the one who provides you with the information are doing the real effort; and reality is certainly not a line on a boulder that every reality is a truth and should be followed blindly; everything which glitters is not gold.

Information is useless if it is not transformed into knowledge. To convert it, there should be an uncompromising route through which it should go through in order to test it. The process is plain; the information has to pass through the vigorous examination of reality. After it is derived that such information was a reality, it will be very easy to determine the disparity between right and wrong; every reality is not always good. If one can make his thoughts and information go through this route and gets superior at this, that person has kaput the chains he had tied himself with.

But, still the self is stranded in the cage and unfortunately there is no door to get out of it; getting outside the cage is hence very tough because we have worked so hard for years to make it sturdy. There is only one way to go outside of this cage, i.e. you have to shatter the bars to brittleness. One has to start converting the knowledge into words and actions. But, whenever, one tries to do that, in the beginning especially, will smack his body right into the bars. This battle will cause a lot of injury; this type of injury might throw you quite far away and make yourself feel like a loser.

But, if you start getting injured, do not worry, it is actually a sign of winning. With every blow of yourself on the bars, you will make it weaker and weaker; sooner or later it will be destroyed. The point to remember is that these bars can only be busted through the right way i.e. by hook and not crook. To know the accurate way to convert the information you gain into knowledge, first, because without breaking the chains, you are never going to break the cage.

All mentioned above is the attitude through which one can get outside the control of the unconstructive energy. Let’s consider what is said above into convenient terms. Stand in front of a mirror and look at yourself and probe yourself – “What is the purpose of my life?” – Do you know the reason why you are created and mounted in this period of time?

Were you brought into this human race to earn more and more riches? Or acquire degrees? Or to buy pricey gifts for your dear wife, so that she fulfills all your desires? Or is it about getting promoted regularly in your profession so that you carry on climbing your career ladder?

We are skilled to accomplish the above mentioned achievements; we are told that this is life; these fake achievements are the bars we have worked so hard to make it brawny. We are educated if we have been able to achieve this, we have achieved everything. In fact, this is not even an iota of everything; we are supposed to achieve all once we get ourselves on the straight path which is very easy to find; it is the only path you will find after you break the cage and come out of it.

We are very fortunate to be living in this age of information and technology since we have an easy access to information which is usually just a click away. Decades back, it used to take days, weeks and years to acquire such knowledge; men had to travel to know the truth. But, more and more people are going off target in this age because we have started to judge that our prisons are our comfort zones.

A man is not a man if he has not done his bit to fix this world; how can one be even called a human being who does not make the world a more contented place to live in for the future generations to come. But this is not enough to convince someone to break these cage and chains.

The real reason to get outside the cage and chains is to comprehend that your purpose of life has been decided by The One who has created you. He has given you five senses to witness his presence through His Creation, and He has bestowed you with the power to think. That power to think, i.e. knowledge, will direct you towards what you are predestined to achieve; this achievement will most of the time make life in hereafter serene for you. But, don’t think that if it’s written in your destiny then you will get it served on a plate, maybe He has written that you will pull off the real fruits of this planet only if you try, He gives you the power of choice, and the light which you will require to find the right choice is your knowledge based on realities.

You are specified a task by your Lord on His land and once you accept it; you will escort yourself into attaining salvation. The triumph we have to pull off is to let peace prevail in our hearts so it will cure us from the disease which stops you to differentiate right and wrong.

At times, I feel there is an imaginary parrot sitting in a cage, owned by us, which grins on us because he is witnessing that his masters are also in a cage which has no doors. He is right; this is the time we get rid of the cage and the chains or the parrot would always grin on us...

Thank you Nationalist Folks!

Well, today I was thinking that I would shut down this blog for good because I was unable to write for a long time. Call it a mind-block or whatever, ideas refused to come inside my mind. But thanks to some nationalist folks, I am back on track!

Well this is what happened. As you all must be knowing, Facebook has become a medium to voice your opinion (no matter how obscene or stupid it is, people would still click "Like" to any dumb stuff). Be it through status updates or using the notes section. (I prefer the status updates, people who write "notes" on facebook go Nuts! They dont stop! You dont trust me...hmmm...then check this out :
http://www.facebook.com/#/notes/pervez-musharraf/answering-your-top-3-questions/203110039338

(This guy will never stop)

So, today late in the afternoon, I saw a friend who is die-hard fan of Zardari posting out status updates about CJ being biased, "Urdu Media" trying to divide the country and that Zardari has been targeted because he is a Sindhi. And I was like "WT.....?"

There on, my mind started to work. I started to think that for so many days Balochis and Sindhis have been crying on media that they have been neglected and people from other nations have brought misery for them. Some Baloch leaders ask for a seperate state while the Sindhis are making "topi days" and some of them are saying that if Courts and Media dont stop targetting Zardari, then history of 1971 would repeat itself.

I was like "hmmmm....i know this is all wrong, but I have to prove it".

So I did this little research :-

List of The Presidents of Pakistan

Iskander Mirza : Born in Bengal
Ayub Khan : Born in NWFP (Non Pushto speaking Pushtoon)... See More
Yahya Khan : Pathan (Born in Chakwal)
Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto : Sindhi
Fazal Ilahi Chaudary : Punjabi (was just a figurehead after the implementation of 73 constitution)
General Zia : Born in Jalandhar, British India (Okay, you can call him a Punjabi)
Ghulam Ishaq Khan : Pathan
Farooq Leghari : Baloch (born in Punjab)
Rafiq Tarar : Punjabi
Pervez Musharraf : Born in India (Delhi)
Asif Ali Zardari : Sindhi Balochi

So my stats say:
Sindhis had 2 Presidents
NWFP had 3 Presidents
Baloch had 1 President
Punjabis had 3
Bengalis had 1

List of the Prime Ministers of Pakistan

Liaqat Ali Khan : Punjabi
Khawaja Nazimuddin : Bengali
Mohd Ali Bogra : Bengali
Chaudary Muhammad Ali : Punjabi
Hussain Shaheed Suhrwardy : Bengali
Ibrahim Ismaeil Chundrigar : Urdu Speaking
Feroz Khan Noon : Punjabi
Nurul Amin : Bengali
Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto : Sindhi
Muhammad Khan Junejo : Sindhi
Benazir Bhutto : Sindhi
Ghulam Mustafa Jatoi : Sindhi
Nawaz Sharif : Punjabi
Zafrullah Khan Jamali : Balochi
Chaudary Shujaat Hussain : Punjabi
Shaukat Aziz : Karachi (I guess Urdu speaking)
Yousuf Raza Gillani : Punjabi

Sindh and Urdu Speaking were 5
Punjabis had 5
NWFP had none
Balochis had 1
Bengalis had 3

My study concluded that in total, Punjabis had 8 leaders who reached the highest offices, Sindhis & Urdu Speaking 7, Pashtoons 3, Baloch 2, and Bengalis 4!

So, it proved one thing that almost everyone got a good shot at the highest offices. Look at the Bengalis they had four leaders on the top, still they left us because Mr. Bhutto did not want a Bengali leading him.

"Hey Bengali brothers, come back to us we will sandwich India...hahahaha...what do you guys say?"

"Hmm....dint even hear a single word...anyways enjoy and Happy Independence from Us!"

Well, the crux of the story is that Nationalism is a good thing if it remains in its limits i.e. we just start calling ourselves Pakistanis. That's all we need to do.Period.

If it goes out of bounds, then you will hear opinions like those of my Sindhi friend and Baloch seperatist leaders and in a worse case scenario incidents like "The creation of Bangladesh" would take place.

So, I think I am very good at giving advice for free. So, the solution I see to stop seperatist feelings is that we all should stop saying that "I am Sindhi/Punjabi/Pathani/Balochi/Khochi/Naughty". Find the common ground which unites us (I suggest Islam can be a common ground as we all are muslims - No, I am not a Moulvi..dont believe I am one cause I have a beard!) and stay united!

Well, I know some will find the material I have typed offensive. Sorry dudes, but this is what reality is. It bites.