Dear Dr. Mahrang,
You hardly need anyone to explain how public opinion and public attention shift in a colonial landscape. Yet I still wanted to expose some dark realities of the past few days.
You stood for the people in every forum. Your voice echoed across every sphere when many remained silent. You carried the hope that had long since faded. Yet today, as you face life imprisonment, an unsettling silence surrounds you.
Don’t worry. The World Cup is on.
For now, we are busy watching matches, debating lineups, and celebrating goals. We are busy decorating the streets and walls, painting Brazil’s flag across our towns. Your name has slipped beneath the noise of celebration.
Wait a little longer. Wait until the final whistle blows. Wait until the trophy is lifted. Then we will return. We will once again upload your pictures to our stories with emotional captions and convince ourselves that we have fulfilled our responsibility.
Dr., you stood up, and thousands stood beside you. What happened so quickly? When darkness fell upon you, we found no one standing beside you. Dr., did everything change so soon? You came, ignited hope, and then disappeared from the public conversation. Can a few years of struggle really change a colonial mindset? Or was that our greatest miscalculation?
Let us go back to the revolutionary phase of 2009. Chairman Ghulam Muhammad stood up, and the movement reached its peak. But when Chairman was brought down, the revolution seemed to collapse with him. Isn’t history repeating itself? Aren’t we trapped in the same cycle once again?
Genocide has reached its peak. Every piece of land now resembles Murgaaf. Haani Dilwash, who was in the ninth month of her pregnancy, has been missing for a long time, and no one knows where she is. Is it not a tragedy that a child may utter its first cry inside a dungeon? Rousseau wrote, “Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains.” But how much more horrifying is the thought of a child wrapped in chains before even entering the world?
But Dr., I believe you understand the colonial dilemmas better than me and you won’t complain of the changing public behavior. But Dr., you would feel an absence of a gap you dreamed and visioned to bridge with your presence among the masses. Now that you face the dungeon walls, your absence has been added to the previous absence of a vision.
I hope, or perhaps I should not, that you remain as strong as you have always been. We can do nothing more for you except pray. History often remembers those who endured more than those who merely watched.
With bowed head,
An Unknown Well-Wisher.
