The Honda City was cruising along at 120 km (75 miles) an hour on the 3 lane highway that connects the cities of Lahore and Islamabad. I had just visited my dying grandfather for what was going to my last time ever seeing him. I had landed in Pakistan from South Sudan only 3 hours ago was now on my way to Islamabad. We were about 2 hours away from Islamabad when it started to drizzle. It was prayer time so the driver and I made a pit stop for the mosque by the side of the road. By the time we were done with prayers it started pouring, and I was soaking wet when we restarted our journey. I reached back into my daypack to pull out a dry shirt to put on. Unfortunately, I had to unbuckle my seat belt in order to change my shirt. While buttoning up the shirt I realized that the car started to skid, I thought of trying to put the seat belt on but it was too late, I put my hand on the dash board, shut my eyes and hoped for the best.
The car spun a few times and ended up in a ditch. I remember while it was twisting and twirling in the air and on the ground I kept reassuring myself that I was still alive as every microsecond past. Finally, it all came to a full stop. No more movement, I was completely wet with my body underwater lying horizontal inside the inverted car. I must have past out for a few moments as I heard a faint sound that kept coming closer and getting louder - it was the driver. He just kept repeating my name and I didn't have the energy to respond. Finally, I told him that I was okay and soon after a group of people pulled me out of the vehicle and into the rain. I've had the pleasure of being in a few crazy car crashes but every time I got away with minor scratches, this time though it felt different. I couldn't move my neck and back at all. I was pretty sure I broke something. I couldn't sit or lay down, the only thing I could do was stand with the support of my rescuers.
I remember them bringing water for me and asking me if I was okay and I just wanted them to shut up and let me be. I was in pain, it was raining and my phones were not working anymore. The luggage had apparently flown out of the trunk, everything was wet and I couldn't get through to my family. The only numbers I knew off the top of my head were my parent's home phone number and my father's cell phone. Knowing how "kabutar dil" (dove hearted) my dad is and I mean that in a loving, respectful way, I couldn't call him, so I decided to have my rescuers call the home phone. Luckily my sister picked up, I think she did, I really can't remember much but I know I spoke to her. I told her that I had been in a car crash on the highway coming and I needed to get to a hospital right away. I told her there was little chance that I could get through again cause the phones were not working.
In the mean time my rescuers were trying to look for the police patrol. Usually they are pretty prevalent on the highway and pass by every 15 minutes. Whatever the reason that day, no police car was in sight. My best option was to get to Islamabad somehow and hope that my sister arranged for an ambulance at the toll plaza.
This highway is like the turnpike where each exist is 30 to 40 minutes apart so it would have made no sense for an ambulance to come get me from Islamabad which was an hour and a half away from the site of the accident.
My rescuers were vehemently trying to pull over any vehicle so that I could be given a ride to Islamabad, but no one stopped. No one even stopped to find out what the hell was wrong with a guy bloody, being held upright by other people on the side of the road.
Now the highway connecting Lahore and Islamabad is known as the "motorway" and the motorway attracts mostly fancy cars that go at high speeds on a state of the art highway. The people who had stopped to help me were local residents from the area who had jumped over the fence to assist. They were the poorest of the poor, the scum of the earth, while the elite of Pakistan were driving by one after the other, oblivious to the fact that a desperate person needed help.
Finally an empty van did stop. I was told it was a guy who was headed to Lahore (the opposite direction) noticed an accident and turned around to drive 30 miles back to help out. The man agreed to take me another 1.5 hours in the opposite direction to where he was headed. I didn't have the energy to thank him enough. I somehow fit in the back of his van still soaking wet and he drove me to the toll plaza that marked the city limits of Islamabad. There, I saw my sister and uncle waiting with an ambulance.
I asked my sister to make sure that the gentleman who had driven me to Islamabad be compensated well. It turned out that the vehicle did not even belong to him. He was simply the hired driver for that vehicle (another poor scum of the earth who went out of his way, risked his own job to help me). My sister told me that he refused to take money stating "how can I take money from you, it is Ramadan and I'm fasting. I helped your brother because that's what God would have wanted me to do".
I ended up suffering a slipped disk in my neck and severe bruising in my lower vertebra's. I was lucky. From the pictures one can see how much more worse it could have been.
When I narrated the story to my family members and friends of my parents, they understood why people in their fancy cars didn't pull over for me. They told me that there were many robberies happening that way, where robbers would fake an accident to make someone stop and then rob them and steal their vehicle.
To me it was sickening to hear it. Anyways, I'm not going to state my feelings on why the rich have something to loose and the poor don't thus they didn't stop, and I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt, but what I did decide was that no matter what happens, I will never become them. They want to NOT stop for people dying on the side of the road, more power to them but I will never work for their betterment.
I think my accident was a reminder to me. I hear it all the time when I go back to the US or come to Pakistan, "when will you get a real job again Ali, when will this adventure of yours stop". And this job is frustrating, and many times a day you're like "why the hell don't I just go back and get a normal job, normal life with a wife and a car and a house in the suburbs and a cat, and a coffee shop, a nice imam bargah to go to, make babies" you get the point. But then incidents like these happen and you are presented to all the answers to your WHY AM I DOING THIS? question. How can I ever turn my back on the poor scum of the earth when they were the only ones who came to my aid when I needed it and asked for nothing in return.
I don't remember the faces of any of the guys that helped me, it was raining and I was in pain but that same night when I got home I got a call on my phone. I picked up and a guy asked me if I was Ali sahab (sir), the guy in the car accident. He then went on to tell me that he was one of the guys who pulled me out of the car and wanted to know how I was doing. I couldn't hold back my tears. He had gotten my contact information through the driver. He went on to tell me that I will be okay and that once I am, I should come over to his small village to see him. And that he'll show me around. After that much love how can I ever stop working for such people. Regardless of whether I end up a rich man or become poor in the process, it would be the biggest hypocrisy if I ever turned my back on the most needy in this world.
The car spun a few times and ended up in a ditch. I remember while it was twisting and twirling in the air and on the ground I kept reassuring myself that I was still alive as every microsecond past. Finally, it all came to a full stop. No more movement, I was completely wet with my body underwater lying horizontal inside the inverted car. I must have past out for a few moments as I heard a faint sound that kept coming closer and getting louder - it was the driver. He just kept repeating my name and I didn't have the energy to respond. Finally, I told him that I was okay and soon after a group of people pulled me out of the vehicle and into the rain. I've had the pleasure of being in a few crazy car crashes but every time I got away with minor scratches, this time though it felt different. I couldn't move my neck and back at all. I was pretty sure I broke something. I couldn't sit or lay down, the only thing I could do was stand with the support of my rescuers.
I remember them bringing water for me and asking me if I was okay and I just wanted them to shut up and let me be. I was in pain, it was raining and my phones were not working anymore. The luggage had apparently flown out of the trunk, everything was wet and I couldn't get through to my family. The only numbers I knew off the top of my head were my parent's home phone number and my father's cell phone. Knowing how "kabutar dil" (dove hearted) my dad is and I mean that in a loving, respectful way, I couldn't call him, so I decided to have my rescuers call the home phone. Luckily my sister picked up, I think she did, I really can't remember much but I know I spoke to her. I told her that I had been in a car crash on the highway coming and I needed to get to a hospital right away. I told her there was little chance that I could get through again cause the phones were not working.
In the mean time my rescuers were trying to look for the police patrol. Usually they are pretty prevalent on the highway and pass by every 15 minutes. Whatever the reason that day, no police car was in sight. My best option was to get to Islamabad somehow and hope that my sister arranged for an ambulance at the toll plaza.
This highway is like the turnpike where each exist is 30 to 40 minutes apart so it would have made no sense for an ambulance to come get me from Islamabad which was an hour and a half away from the site of the accident.
My rescuers were vehemently trying to pull over any vehicle so that I could be given a ride to Islamabad, but no one stopped. No one even stopped to find out what the hell was wrong with a guy bloody, being held upright by other people on the side of the road.
Now the highway connecting Lahore and Islamabad is known as the "motorway" and the motorway attracts mostly fancy cars that go at high speeds on a state of the art highway. The people who had stopped to help me were local residents from the area who had jumped over the fence to assist. They were the poorest of the poor, the scum of the earth, while the elite of Pakistan were driving by one after the other, oblivious to the fact that a desperate person needed help.
Finally an empty van did stop. I was told it was a guy who was headed to Lahore (the opposite direction) noticed an accident and turned around to drive 30 miles back to help out. The man agreed to take me another 1.5 hours in the opposite direction to where he was headed. I didn't have the energy to thank him enough. I somehow fit in the back of his van still soaking wet and he drove me to the toll plaza that marked the city limits of Islamabad. There, I saw my sister and uncle waiting with an ambulance.
I asked my sister to make sure that the gentleman who had driven me to Islamabad be compensated well. It turned out that the vehicle did not even belong to him. He was simply the hired driver for that vehicle (another poor scum of the earth who went out of his way, risked his own job to help me). My sister told me that he refused to take money stating "how can I take money from you, it is Ramadan and I'm fasting. I helped your brother because that's what God would have wanted me to do".
I ended up suffering a slipped disk in my neck and severe bruising in my lower vertebra's. I was lucky. From the pictures one can see how much more worse it could have been.
When I narrated the story to my family members and friends of my parents, they understood why people in their fancy cars didn't pull over for me. They told me that there were many robberies happening that way, where robbers would fake an accident to make someone stop and then rob them and steal their vehicle.
To me it was sickening to hear it. Anyways, I'm not going to state my feelings on why the rich have something to loose and the poor don't thus they didn't stop, and I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt, but what I did decide was that no matter what happens, I will never become them. They want to NOT stop for people dying on the side of the road, more power to them but I will never work for their betterment.
I think my accident was a reminder to me. I hear it all the time when I go back to the US or come to Pakistan, "when will you get a real job again Ali, when will this adventure of yours stop". And this job is frustrating, and many times a day you're like "why the hell don't I just go back and get a normal job, normal life with a wife and a car and a house in the suburbs and a cat, and a coffee shop, a nice imam bargah to go to, make babies" you get the point. But then incidents like these happen and you are presented to all the answers to your WHY AM I DOING THIS? question. How can I ever turn my back on the poor scum of the earth when they were the only ones who came to my aid when I needed it and asked for nothing in return.
3 comments:
I'm speechless....
Allah tumhein kush rakhey, n that u find a partner who'll support ur cause n not only that, accompanies you to ur sites and multiplies ur efforts and makes ur work even more worthwhile. Ameen = )
and did the accident take place in April or a week ago?
the date shown is different i guess.. !!
Take good care of urself, coz the world needs U...
Dear Mr. Ali Raza,
I hope you are well. I happened to stumble upon your Twitter profile while researching something about conflict resolution being a hindrance to the public health improvement in the marginalized areas and linked to it was your blog. Although this incident is fairly in the past, I just wished to know about your well-being, to know if God forbid you suffered permanent damage to your neck? I sincerely hope you were able to recover completely from that and now you are up and running, better than ever, Ameen.
I further wish to add that you are doing remarkable work (given your education and lifestyle you could have with that). I have seldom seen an individual with such a heightened sense of responsibility, a philanthropic heart and humbleness in people with so many options to get a comfortable life. Yet, you chose to endure the toughest of the conditions (if I were you, I could never do it with such commitment and consistency) for the betterment of mankind. God bless you and keep up doing the good work.
Hoping to hear from you soon with an update on your health :)
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