The file cover of Muhammad Afzal’s case pending in a court
Afzal once lived and worked in Mansehra city, in the north-eastern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province. He was married to a girl he loved. She came from a background completely different from his own.
Afzal was a Kohistani tribesman, born and brought up in a mountainous village in Kolai-Palas region (which was made a district in 2017 after separating it from Kohistan district); his wife was a city dweller who belonged to a Hindko-speaking family of Abbottabad city.
Afzal was quite enterprising. At various stages in his life, he ran a tailoring shop, worked as a clerk with a lawyer, sold tickets for the government-run buses that connect the Gilgit-Baltistan region with the rest of Pakistan and traded bee honey. He also studied law in his spare time. Two of his younger brothers – Gul Nazar, a college student, and Bin Yasir, a manual labourer – also lived with him.
Their father, Narang, had a big family — seven sons and a daughter. He belonged to a tribe called Salehkhel and lived in Gadaar village along the Karakoram Highway some 160 kilometres north from Mansehra. The village had only three other families that came from the same tribe as Narang’s. The members of another tribe, Azadkhel, comprised 75 per cent of the local population of around 200 households. The rest belonged to two smaller tribes.
Before he died of old age about 20 years ago, Narang worked as a tailor. He also owned a small patch of land in Gadaar where his sons worked hard and produced over 20,000 kilogrammes of corn every year. His large family lived comfortably, if not luxuriously.
His sons also enjoyed considerable respect among their fellow villagers. One of them would lead prayers at a local mosque. Life for his progeny was peaceful and decent.
Sometime in 2010, Nazar and Yasir travelled from Mansehra to Gadaar to be with their family. One night during their visit, four local girls – Siran Jan, Begum Jan, Bazeegha and Amina, all from Azadkhel tribe – came to their house. They sat down in a room along with the two boys and, after a brief conversation, started singing to the beat of their own clapping — all our lives we have lived in purdah... One of the boys, Nazar, danced and the other, Yasir, recorded the singing, clapping and dancing in a mobile phone. This is at least what the families of the girls allege.
Around two years later, the video clip surfaced on the internet. As it went viral, police officials at a local police station registered a case, alleging that “Bin Yasir and Gul Nazar called the girls of Azadkhel caste to their dera where they made obscene video of the girls and made public the same.” Within days, the two brothers were arrested under the Motion Pictures Ordinance and held in custody for six and a half months.
Nazar and Yasir deny meeting the girls. They say someone mixed a video clip of Nazar’s dance, made at an uncle’s wedding, with a video of girls singing and clapping. Nobody takes their claim seriously.
On December 18, 2012, Nazar and Yasir were acquitted after a trial court found that the video was neither obscene nor disseminated by the two. They immediately shifted to Lahore as a security measure.
Two of their elder brothers, Afzal and Gul Shahzada (who worked as a tailor in a valley below his own village), had by then shifted to Allai, a former princely state, in Battagram district, halfway between Mansehra and Kolai-Palas. A powerful Allai landowner had offered them protection against any hostilities from the Azadkhel tribe. Nazar and Yasir, too, joined them there a few days later.
Three other Salehkhel families living in Gadaar also moved to Allai — leaving behind Narang’s three sons, their wives and many children.
Nobody knows what happened to the girls. Police in Kolai-Palas say that an Azadkhel jirga assembled soon after the video clip emerged. The participants of the jirga ruled that those who appeared in the video were chor — thieves. And, as is the local custom in such cases, they decided the girls, the woman who took them to Narang’s house and the two boys were all liable to be killed since they had hurt the honour of the whole Azadkhel tribe.
Afzal did not want these punishments to materialise. Soon after his brothers were taken into police custody, he started approaching journalists and human rights activists, alerting them that the lives of the girls in the video were in danger. If anything, his efforts had a contrary effect: local people turned against him. They were incensed that he was disregarding tribal traditions that govern interaction between men and women who are not related by blood. His demands for the protection of the girls were seen as a transgression that brought dishonour to the whole Kohistan region steeped in a conservative culture.