Second Class Citizen شَہْری

I stroll down the promenade in Portobello (Edinburgh) snuggled in my Chitrali woollen Chogha (overcoat), sipping on a strong flat white and listening to a track by Arooj Aftab.  My eyes skim the hues of grey infused through the sky, the icy breeze carrying the sounds of the surf. My mind is racing and I am reminded of a recent conversation I had with a friend. 

During my time in Chitral (Northern Pakistan) I was invited by Zakaria for chai.  Zakaria is an Afghan, Nuristani to be specific, who lives in Chitral. The Afghans living in Chitral are not eligible for Pakistani citizenship; they are amongst the largest refugee groups in Pakistan. Zakaria was born and raised in Chitral and had always struggled with his identity, particularly when trying to find suitable work. At times, he would be frustrated and would talk about going back to his home village in Afghanistan.  However, he knew that once gone, he may never be able to come back and visit his family in Chitral, a thought that kept him anchored. 

 Zakaria would say “it is frustrating that I am treated like a second-class citizen in the country I was born. I don’t know anything else and the future looks bleak. All I can do is continue to work hard and be grateful for the life I have”.  

The conversation with Zakaria, reminded me of the vulnerable spaces, privilege and power dynamics around citizenship. 

The recent Nationality and Border Bill that was passed by the UK Government last week, gives UK the right to strip your citizenship without fair warning, making you stateless and a second-class citizen. This can affect up to six million people in the UK with dual nationality and will mostly impact people of colour. 

I was born, raised and educated in Scotland. My Scottish identity is as important as my Pakistani. I pay my taxes and always saw my position as a strength that celebrated both worlds.  As I walk back to my house in Edinburgh, I am made aware of the similarity between my current reality and the one Zakaria lives every day. He has been occupying this liminal position since birth, on the other hand the recent bill made me feel unwanted, angry and relegated me to a second-class status. 

For someone who was born in Scotland, received an education and travelled globally, one would think that I was in the best position to achieve anything I wanted.  Children from the diaspora are constantly working that extra bit harder so they can prove their worthiness, be seen and recognised for who they are. 

How many times do people of colour need to prove their loyalties? What do we need to do to show that we are also worthy of respect, dignity and humanity ? 

It also raises a fundamental question of provoking fear within people of colour. What message does this send out to millions of families in Britain who have worked day and night to make this country? That said, I am more interested in the British people who have democratically elected this current government. When you have more of an uproar for a Christmas party and a silence on this bill, you know that that this country has plunged into darkness, not sure if the EDI policies will make a difference. 

Zakaria and I come from two separate worlds; he is Afghan living in Chitral, does not have citizenship and is restricted to travel; on the other hand, I am British, who can travel and work anywhere. Yet, this recent bill rings like warning: Do as your told. You are replaceable.

Perhaps I now understand an iota of the fragile position of my friend Zakaria. His anger and resentment towards the Pakistani government show glimpses of my own feelings towards the current British Government. 

“I feel broken, yet I chose to love you

I feel rejected yet I chose not to separate from you

I feel humiliated yet I chose to care for you

I feel disappointed yet I chose to trust you”

I will finish from a short couplet from my favourite poet, Allama Iqbal, the widely celebrated Pakistani figure who, in my opinion, was one of the most progressive and relevant philosopher/poet of our times.  

Image courtesy by Orientistan

If you want to read more on Iqbal, my friend Zirrar has published excellent poetry on “Ghazi and the Garden”

PS: More details on Genghis Khan