Hope Found in Trash

Asem Mustafa Awan

Islamabad: The bustling streets of Islamabad, Pakistan, are a tapestry of contradictions. Towering glass buildings and sleek cars share the space with overflowing trash bins, a stark reminder of the city’s struggles.

Amidst this urban landscape, a young boy, barely ten years old, navigates a harsh reality. His name, perhaps Gul*, doesn’t matter much in the world that has labelled him and countless others like him as “trash pickers.”

He doesn’t see himself that way. His eyes, though weary from long hours under the unforgiving sun, hold a spark of defiance. He isn’t begging; he’s collecting.

Every plastic bottle and every scrap of metal he retrieves is a treasure, a hard-earned contribution to his family’s meagre existence.

Pakistan, the “Land of the Pure,” grapples with a multitude of problems, and the child embodies the harsh reality that often gets buried under optimistic pronouncements.

He sits perched on a trash bin in the very capital that boasts the moniker “Islamabad the Beautiful,” a bitter irony not lost on him.

Statistics paint a grim picture: millions of children remain out of school, their dreams trapped in a cycle of poverty. Government initiatives like free books and lunches often remain unfulfilled promises, leaving behind a trail of broken dreams.

The cost of living soars while wages stagnate, leaving families like Gul’s crushed under the burden of daily survival.

UNICEF reports paint a bleak picture, highlighting the plight of countless children like Gul*. Yet, a sliver of hope remains.

He clings to the possibility of a future where the funds allocated for the underprivileged actually reach them. He dreams of a day when questioning those in power, though seemingly futile, becomes the norm rather than an improbable fantasy.

Gul* may not have the luxury of hope, but he carries within him the potential for change. The broken toy he clutches, a prized possession salvaged from the trash, represents a yearning for a different future.

He may be sifting through garbage today, but his story is a testament to the unwavering human spirit, a spirit that refuses to be extinguished by hardship.

Perhaps it won’t be him, but maybe his child, his grandchild, will not be condemned to a life of scavenging.

Maybe they will carry textbooks instead of collecting plastic bottles, their shoulders bearing the weight of knowledge instead of the burden of survival.

Maybe good times will come for Pakistan, but they will only come when the hope Gul* carries within him is nurtured, not extinguished.

The writer is a journalist based in Islamabad and writes on a wide range of issues.

Photo credit: Raja Farid