UNITED NATIONS - / MaximsNews Network / 12 December 2007 -- Twenty four hours have passed since the news of Benazir Bhutto’s assassination stopped traffic on Pakistan’s streets. The media is flooded by tributes from national and international leaders who mourn the loss of Pakistan’s most famous daughter. There are wails from her supporters- tearful old men, angry teenagers and crying women- who vociferously lament the death of their sister and leader.  

The world has not only lost a great leader in Benazir, a precious bridge between the east and west, but perhaps the most remarkable woman premier of our time. She emerged as the first Muslim woman to lead a nation, a virtually impossible feat, and became an inspiration to women the world over. However, for those of us who knew Benazir personally, we will miss her as the generous, warm and highly intelligent friend, who made us feel special and cherished despite the heavy demands on her time.  

I have always kept my relationship with Benazir discreet because it was personal, not political.  For me, Bibi was my mentor and a dear friend, who I have known since the age of seven. Her death has left me divided between my fear for Pakistan’s future and immense grief in knowing that my dear Bibi is no more. Her assassins have taken away some one who had much to teach to me, indeed to us all.  However, my grief pales in comparison to the loss of her family because in addition to being a great leader, Bibi was an amazing mother, sister, wife and friend.  

Today, I want to share a few of the many memories I have of this remarkable woman. She is often painted by her critics as an arrogant and corrupt demagogue, but the person I knew was far from this description. Whenever, I have been asked to comment on Benazir’s political conduct in office, I have reserved my opinion because as a friend who cared for her, I cannot be the best judge. However, I have no hesitance in testifying to the commendable attributes she possessed as a person and friend.  

Bibi’s gender augmented the challenges of being a political leader in Pakistan. While there were those who rejected her capability simply because she was a woman, there were others who accused her of not doing enough for women’s rights when in office. The Bibi I knew believed in empowering women, and took every opportunity to encourage them to succeed.  When I was seven, my grandfather introduced me to a frail young woman as the future Prime minister of my country. Bibi visited our family house under cover of night in 1986 as my grand father negotiated with the martial law regime of General Zia on her behalf. I doubt Bibi knew at the time the significance of her note to the little girl she had just met: “For Mahnaz, who I believe will grow up to serve her country and her people”. Her autograph to my male cousins simply said “Best Wishes”. Those words planted in me a desire and responsibility to help my people and country at an early age. It also left me feeling special; it was usually my male cousins who received all the attention from visitors to my grand father’s house. Bibi was “deeply moved” when I told her this story a couple of years ago when we discussed how important positive role models were for young people.  As her own children grew up, she often spoke about their future with me. She wanted Bakhtawar, her eldest daughter to become a lawyer and was very proud that Bilawal had made it to Oxford.  

Bibi felt great empathy with working women, whether it was a Cherie Blair, or a labourer toiling in Sindh. At the same time, she firmly believed in a family life. Bibi doted on her three children, Bilawal, Bakhtawar and Aseefa, to whom she was a caring mother. Between her crazy schedule of meetings, Bibi and I would drive around London searching for Buffy the Vampire comic books that her children had requested. However, her affection was balanced with instilling values for hard work and respect of money.  I remember watching a young Aseefa struggle with her math as Bibi made her count the pennies received from a shopkeeper.  

Bibi’s nurturing instinct extended beyond her children, to her sister Sanam, and to younger friends like myself. It even extended to her pet cat, whose sickness kept her up at night. She would often take us all out to lunch, a small tribe comprising of her children, her sister, cousins and friends. It was Bibi, the former prime minister of Pakistan, who ensured that every one had the pizza they wanted.  She was equally meticulously in ensuring that she was there for her associates during times of grief or joy.  She was always one of the first to congratulate me on my achievements. When I finished my first children’s book, Mo’s Star, Bibi wrote two special messages for children reading the book: “Learn to take risks and you will learn to reach the heights of success" and "Patience and perseverance are the keys to success. Never give up. Never lose heart". These words now take on a significance more than ever before in view of yesterday’s events.  

When we went out visiting, Bibi was meticulous about choosing the right present for her host.  She never forgot a good deed- Decades after my grand father’s death, she always recounted his favours to her, from his political support during her detention to the boxes of chocolates he would send to her in jail. Bibi had little to gain from me politically or for that matter my deceased grand father, and yet she never forgot the friendship forged between the families that continued with our association.  

Her critics say she amassed a personal fortune by plundering Pakistan. The charges of corruption against her have never been proven in a court of law. I remember her feeling frustrated at the reporting of the Swiss proceedings by the press. “Aren’t you presumed innocent, until proven guilty under law? Then why am I being presumed guilty by the media until proven innocent?” she would vent to me during our many walks in the park.  I never saw Bibi spend extravagantly.  I remember when I moved into my first apartment, we went shopping together for linen and crockery. It was Bibi who spotted all the best bargains on the sale. What I did see her splurging on were books, which she bought by the box full for herself and the children. Her pleasures were simple, going out for films (she loved a good old romantic movie), walking in the park or sitting around in café with close friends and family.  

Her critics say she was arrogant, yet Bibi never made me feel less important because she was a former prime minister and I was a mere undergraduate. When we made arrangements to meet, Bibi gave tremendous respect to my time as we matched schedules. Those who have known her in a professional context may have a different experience but during all the years I have known Bibi I only saw her being polite to those around her. I remember Bibi addressing a rude sales girl as “ma’am” as she tried to reason with her. There was never a trace of “Don’t you know who I am?”.  

In fact, Bibi at times was surprisingly unaware of her stature when in the company of friends, as if for those hours she was taking a break from playing the leader of millions, just to be herself. Out of my first pay check, I took Bibi to The Ivy in London. I thought it was time to return at least one of the many lunches she had treated me to over the years. I was surprised that Bibi had never been to the Ivy before. I saw the flash of a young girl as she asked me to look for the celebrities the Ivy is so famous for. As I gazed around the restaurant, I saw other customers looking at our table. I found it endearing that Bibi did not realise that she was the celebrity at the restaurant that day, and every one was watching her. 

Her critics say she was a pampered princess, and yet I never saw her rest. Bibi was a workaholic glued to her computer. She was extremely efficient with answering emails, and reading copious amounts of paper. Bibi kept her staff to the minimum, there was no entourage of assistants or professionals, just the bare minimum. I often sent her the odd intern to ease her workload because she was so overstretched. Contrary to what people think, she was not living in a palace with a large staff. Her HQ was always a few computers with various volunteers helping out. At the very centre of activity was Bibi working away, until we would drag her to take that much needed break.  More recently, with her lecture circuit, we used to discuss how much we had to travel just to earn a living.  

Her critics called her a demagogue, yet Bibi gave up her life to a cause she believed in, her commitment to democracy, her dream for a moderate, progressive Pakistan. Bibi was well aware of the risks involved in her return to Pakistan.  During our last meeting in March over sorbets in a Dubai restaurant, we spoke about her return. She was keen to fulfil the promise she had made to her countrymen and women. I knew Bibi had waited for years to come back to Pakistan to meet her people. Her critics may take issue with her politics, indeed there were times when I disagreed with her politics, but it will be hard for them to contest her commitment to serve Pakistan. Despite a near death experience in a suicide bomb attack in October, she continued to appear in public rallies because she wanted to be with her people. It is sad that the bullet that killed Bibi hit just as she emerged to greet her party members. And then the Bibi I knew, so full of passion, wit and affection, was taken away forever.  

As the television shows her funeral I cannot believe that my beautiful friend, ies in a box buried in the ground. I find it hard to understand why I will never enjoy an ice cream with her or exchange an email. My loss, which has left me reeling with grief, is insignificant compared to that of her family and the country in a crisis she wanted to save. However, once my tears dry, I fear that they may be replaced by a different kind of grief for the risks to the lives of hundreds of Pakistanis as a crisis looms on the horizon.  

Bibi, wherever you are I hope my prayers and love reach you. You are much missed. You lived up to the promise you made to us all. May you find eternal peace and rest. I hope your sacrifice will not go in vain.  

Copyright with Mahnaz Malik 2007  

Poem dedicated to Bibi  

She is Gone

You can shed tears that she is gone

Or you can smile because she has lived

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back

Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her

Or you can be full of the love that you shared

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

You can remember her and only that she is gone

Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

written 1981

David Harkins 1959 -

Silloth, Cumbria, UK

Labels: United Nations, U.N., MaximsNews, Mohtarma Benazir Bhutto, Mahnaz Malik

 

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