On any typical afternoon at the Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS) you will find scores of students lounging on the strip of grass sandwiched between the administrative block and dining hall. There is always a gentle buzz in the air as students catch up on recent gossip or groan under the latest academic burden.

But for the last few weeks, this throng of students has taken a more pronounced form and the buzz has become louder and more urgent. It is here that the agitated have been congregating for afternoons on end to boldly voice their opinions on the state of emergency in the country.

The first few days after the imposition of the emergency were welcomed with a slew of speeches by student leaders from the balcony above with rapt followers jostling below. Another day found students serenely settled on the same grass while being addressed by a wizened journalist sharing his pearls of wisdom. Some days were marked by students donning black and engaging in a hunger strike. Still others involved protestors meticulously painting signs and banners saying no to martial law and the restrictions on the media. Even early in the morning when no overt protestors are around, signs remain firmly fixed in place, with a prominent cross slashed across the words 'Martial Law' visible to anyone exiting the dining hall.

The response of the LUMS community has been well chronicled not just by our local press but also by many eminent foreign publications such as the New York Times. The picture of a wall of students obscured behind their raised placards during the early days of the protests has gained the status of immortality. There were tensions on both sides of the boundary walls when it was feared that police forces may storm the campus to clamp down on protestors but fortunately the protests have been conducted in a responsible manner which has resulted in a gradual reduction in the security blanket around campus.

Liberals both at home and abroad have been quick to laud the students of this prestigious institution for what is being seen as a spearheading role in the student movement against martial law. Some have expressed surprise at the intensity of activity on a campus more closely associated with ivory towers and academic endeavours than placards and protests. "The spirit against political injustice was always here," suggests one student, "but this has just been our first genuine chance to express it and it's taken the community by surprise."

One administrator cites a different source of this emerging spirit. "Now that the departments of Law and Politics are firmly embedded within the fabric of the university, it is inevitable that we will attract both faculty and students who are passionate about politics and keen to express themselves," he says.

Skeptics suggested that this movement would not last, that a few days into the protests these students would have to bury themselves back into their bulky textbooks. But activities show little sign of abating even in the face of examination pressures and holidays translating into reduced student presence on campus. Indeed, students have taken advantage of the holidays to communicate their message to their former alma maters and sister institutions. Flash protests often organised spontaneously at random locations wherever a critical mass of LUMS students and supporters can be accumulated have become commonplace. The protests continue to take creative shape with candlelight vigils the most recent activity on the itinerary.

What is truly remarkable about this movement is how organised it is and how a core group of devotees has not allowed it to lose momentum. A Student Action Committee has taken the lead in giving the process substance and meaning and regular meetings, both planned ones in the student centres and spontaneous ones in the vicinity of the staircases, have fuelled it. The Emergency Times is circulated over the campus mailing list virtually every day and chronicles eyewitness accounts of injustice in addition to a plethora of pieces covering the reaction to the state of emergency from around the world. The campus email list itself is deluged by relevant messages. The strong alumni network around the world ensures that news of foreign reactions, including laudatory words for the spirit of the LUMS community, continues to pour in.

Amid all this frenzy, students vehemently insist that their protests are peaceful by nature and should not be interpreted as alignment with any one particular party. "The protests are not directed primarily at the emergency per se but at the issues it raises," explains one student. "We want to raise awareness regarding infringements of civil liberties and question whether we can expect free and fair elections at any point and what this means for the future of the country."

The USAID plaque is a relic of the Afghan war (long forgotten but ever so present).Then, as now, a dictator ruled, bank-rolled by American dollars and while billions flowed for Stinger missiles, a paltry amount of $10 million was thrown towards a university fund. Perhaps, it was hoped that an investment in education would produce a stable Pakistan. Twenty years on, though a stable Pakistan remains elusive, the university investment continues to pay dividends; though not in the way that Americans had probably hoped for.

Located in the most posh area, Defence, Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS) with its ivy facade and brickwork is one of the most prestigious -- and elitist -- universities of Pakistan. (From the parking lot you couldn't guess this was a developing country.) But just a week ago, a strange thing happened. The elite kids (also known as 'burgers') went on a protest. It was not for designer clothes nor for comfortable seats or even a better menu at the cafeteria, but against -- wait for it -- America's favourite dictator, Musharraf! The chickens, so to speak, had come home to roost.

It was so unexpected that two leading national newspapers wrote editorials on it, while CNN, BBC, the Washington Post and the New York Times covered it in their reporting (to be honest other universities were also covered but more than fair share was given to LUMS.) Why the preferential treatment? Because this was the only university where the protestors were protesting against themselves! These rich kids or their parents represent the very system -- generals, bureaucrats, MPs -- on which Musharraf stood. So while daddy dear was busy arresting lawyers, shutting down news channels, monitoring Internet traffic and beating up protestors, the renegade son/daughter, was protesting behind his back (if only daddy knew!)

The cynic in us wonders: is it simply immature youth getting a chance to act out their Che fantasies? To be silenced into 'growing up' and toeing the line in something similar to the manner described so memorably by novelist Haruki Murakami's character, Midori, with reference to the student movements of 1968: "So that's when it hit me. These guys are a bunch of phonies. All they've got on their minds is impressing the new girls with the big words they're so proud of and... And when they're seniors, they cut their hair short and go trooping to work for Mitsubishi or IBM or Fuji Bank. They marry pretty wives who've never read Marx and have kids they give fancy names to that are enough to make you puke. Smash what educational-industrial complex? Don't make me laugh!"

And yet hope springs eternal. One just cannot help hoping that this new generation will avoid the mistakes of its predecessors, that their mentors, many of them veterans of the ideological and political battles of the seventies and eighties, will advise them better that something of lasting value will result from this, the first act of our re-awakening.

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On the other side of town, a smaller but more vocal crowd was chanting anti-government slogans. This was FAST -- less 'burger,' less conditioned, braver. One was slapped around, another was arrested (mistakenly, as it turned out that he was just a casual bystander). The brief encounter with state agents creates a buzz on campus that leads to a large crowd getting together for the next meeting -- and more crucially, to a deeper reflection on the part of many students as to their rights, their responsibilities and the consequences of their actions (or lack thereof).

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The real 'hard core' is the PU crowd. They represent the masses and therefore seem quiet; busy earning their two square meals and graduate education from the illustrious land of Chaudhry Pervaiz Elahi ('Sindh ka khawab, Parha likha Punjab'). Or maybe not. Actually they were busy planning how to slyly invite Imran Khan and then capture him and hand him over to police. Though not all of them were planning this -- just a few belonging to the student wing of Darth Vader's own political party. But in reaction to their betrayal something even more wonderful happened. The usually scared silent majority of the student body came out in protest, in defiance of Vader's' party. It even included women, who are a rare species on the PU campus.

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In another town, where 'he who shall not be named' resides in his white palace, next to the building that has been dissolved many a time, is Quaid-e-Azam University. Here, students and professors protest and they are tear-gassed. Now this is real. No play-acting.

In the same city, school students protest and they are arrested. Kudos to them for their fantastic bravery!

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In many other places, more voices are silenced, some put behind bars, some under house arrest, some beaten, some kicked and some bruised. But the spirit of resistance goes on. It lives on in the elite crowds of LUMS to the one beaten in FAST, and in all those who rise in rebellion against the fascist mullah party and in those who are tear-gassed and arrested by the fascist state in the capital hills and the rolling plains of the promised land.

It lives in every citizen who, in these trying times, says 'NO!', wears a black armband, writes a poem, says a prayer, but refuses to bow down to naked oppression, brutality and injustice. These are voices worth listening to. These are the people who will save this country.

He is a man I had admired from afar for some time, at least since I came across his book 'Lahore: A sentimental journey'. He is Pran Neville who still thinks of himself as a 'Lahoriah' although he left Lahore sixty years ago; because this was home for the first thirty years of his life, after which he spent decades wandering the world for the Indian foreign service and has only now found his way to Delhi.

His book is what the title says, a nostalgic look back at the home of his youth written with affection and a great deal of charm, and I had said so in a short review I wrote and he had read it and liked it. Last week, through mutual friend Abbas Shafi we finally met up when he had us both over for dinner. It was a rare pleasure to be with a man who treasures his sentiment for his native town, and I soon discovered, we had much more in common.

Pranjee and I had both been to Government College, and taken the same degree of Masters in Economics, though I was a bit taken aback to discover that it was fifteen years apart! That was the time when most civilized people lived inside the Walled City, and sure enough his parents had their house in the neighbourhood of Vachho Vallee which branches off on the left side inside Shahalami Gate. I know because once when I was presiding at an election the area I was allotted was Vachho Vallee!

My own grandfather's house was next door to Chowhatta Mufti Baqar which is technically inside Mochi Gate, but if you know your town you will realise that we lived within a stone's throw of each other. It was nice to meet someone who didn't think Gulberg was 'old Lahore' and the new Lahore was alive and well living in Raiwind and mostly beyond Thokar Niaz Baig!

Pranjee was easily familiar with the real old Lahore, and wonderfully enough it is a familiarity that has not been diminished or even affected by the intervening six decades. That was not surprising because it drips from each word of his book. But there is more. He has combed the archives and libraries of Delhi and London to include in the book little gems that give you a rare insight into the feel of old Lahore.

And I must say it is a marvellous feel. Lahore was an easy and friendly place to be in then, and this comes through from all the old advertisements he has found from the 'Tribune,' Lahore's first English language newspaper. The goods of Mr Haig and Mr Johnnie Walker were much bandied about; and even cigarettes like 'Passing Show' were openly passed off as good for your health -- 'Tension Simply Vanishes' -- without any of the new horse manure from the Ministry of Health to interfere!

Urdu Bazaar was still called Mohan Lal Road, and we had typewriter shops and even one selling all the leading European brands of pianos. Faletti's hotel proudly proclaimed that it not only had 'electric lights' but even had electric fans in 'almost' all the rooms. And a new airline shouted that it would get you to London in 'only' four days!

One was reminded that going to the movies used to be a popular activity and a pleasure. There was the Regal and Plaza which offered only English films, and many more which ran local movies; what is more it was the age of innocence of the movies and the way they were advertised. When the first talking movie 'Alam Ara' came out it shouted itself hoarse insisting that it was not a 'short' but a full fledged 'drama'. Then signed off with the admonition, "Such rare opportunities are not the daily occurrences. Seize it, Embrace it, if life is really worth living!"

Eight months after the previous sectarian riots, the scenic Kurram valley suffered another periodic round of Sunni-Shia conflict. A 16-member jirga of elders and clerics from Orakzai Agency and Hangu managed to mediate a ceasefire on November 20 but not before around 120 persons were killed and more than 200 injured in five days of fierce fighting.

Last April, Kurram Agency bordering Afghanistan had experienced sectarian strife that involved the use of heavy and sophisticated weapons and caused the death of around 50 persons and injured many more. The two sides had suffered huge losses to property during the fighting and only determined intervention by Pakistan Army and paramilitary Frontier Corps forced the combatants to agree to a truce. On that occasion, the troops for the first time used gunship helicopters to attack positions held by fighters from the two sides and scare them to stop fighting.

This time too the army employed gunship helicopters to separate the Shia and Sunni fighters and force them into submission. As was the case the last time, several soldiers were killed in the process. The army is hard-pressed elsewhere as well as it is now fighting on a number of fronts in the NWFP, including Swat and Shangla and the tribal areas of South Waziristan and North Waziristan. In other theatres of war, the troops are combating Islamic militants, known locally as Taliban. The US-made Cobra gunship helicopters are much in demand and have become the weapon of choice for the Pakistan Army in these mountainous areas. However, it isn't easy to maintain morale of the troops after suffering heavy casualties fighting one's own people.

The battle in Kurram Agency, however, is different in nature. The Sunni and Shia population of Kurram had been living in peace for years but the Afghan 'jehad' and the Islamic Revolution in Iran brought a profound change among the people and disturbed the demographic balance of the valley due to influx of Afghan refugees. Modern automatic weapons also became easily available in Kurram Agency and replaced the old guns and pistols that didn't cause human and material losses at a large scale.

As usual, there are two versions as to the factors that triggered the latest bout of sectarian clashes. As always, the first shots were fired in Parachinar, the Shia-dominated headquarters of Kurram Agency located in the Upper Kurram valley. Sunnis accused Shias of firing at their mosque while the Shia leaders alleged that Sunni gunmen fired first to spark firefight. The truth would never be known as the two sects would dispute any version that doesn't tally with their description of events. As Sunnis are in the minority in Parachinar, they invariably suffer more in case of fighting in the town. Their Sunni brethren then try to take revenge elsewhere in the valley against the Shias. Some of the Shia villages in Lower Kurram valley are then attacked and the fighting spreads to most parts of the lush green valley dotted with the tall and stately Chinar trees. Both communities suffer as roads are closed, electricity supply breaks down, educational institutions are shut, markets cannot open and the valley's fragile economy is damaged. This happened this time too and members of the two sects were left counting their losses once the ceasefire came into force.

The sectarian clashes last April had taken place after several years of peace. In fact, the two communities were happy that their heavenly valley had enjoyed such a long period of peace. But then tragedy struck and Kurram valley was in flame when it had become all the more beautiful in blooming spring in April 2007. As the government didn't think in the long-term and not much effort was made to have durable peace, a flareup in November has now caused more death and destruction than that seen in April.

Apart from deploying regular troops and paramilitary forces in Kurram Agency, the government also replaced political agent Fakhr Alam with Syed Zaheerul Islam, an old hand who had served in Parachinar and a number of other tribal agencies in the past. Soon after taking over, Zaheerul Islam warned combatants that they would be bombed and shelled by gunship helicopters and artillery guns if they continued to fight and refused to vacate their positions.

The joint jirga from Orakzai Agency, which adjoins Kurram Agency, and Hangu includes both Sunni and Shia elders and clerics and was, therefore, acceptable to both sects. It is interesting to note that sectarian riots also take place in Orakzai Agency and Hangu but for the cause of sectarian peace in Kurram Agency the elders and Ulema of the two sects agreed to travel there and make hectic efforts to broker a ceasefire. Despite certain shortcomings, jirgas remain the most effective means in resolving conflicts in the tribal areas as is evident from experience in Waziristan to Bajaur and elsewhere in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA). However, the government would have to take follow-up action in case of the sectarian conflict in Kurram Agency because ceasefire is a temporary measure and could break down anytime. Tough and sustained measures ought to be taken to find long-lasting solution to the sectarian issues that trigger riots every few years and cause irreparable damage to the peace of one of the most beautiful valleys in FATA.

More than one year after her 35-year old journalist husband Hayatullah was brutally killed by unknown people in North Waziristan, school teacher Mehrunnisa died in a mysterious night-time bomb explosion at her home in Hormuz village near Mir Ali town on November 17.

As happened in her husband's case, the killers remain unidentified and at large. Hayatullah's younger brother Ehsanullah said his family wasn't suspecting anyone at the moment and needed time to reflect as to who may have planted the bomb.

Mehrunnisa taught at the government-run girls' school in her village. She continued to teach even after her husband's death in June 2006.

The brave lady was bold enough to grant an interview to the BBC radio after Hayatullah's death and publicly blame the intelligence agencies for his murder. It was something rare in a conservative tribal area such as North Waziristan for a young, purdah-observing woman to give an interview and have her voice heard outside her home. It was an effort on her part to seek justice and keep alive the story of her husband's disappearance in December 2005 and his subsequent murder six months later. She also used to send two of her five children to Peshawar and elsewhere along with their uncle Ehsanullah to take part in demonstrations by journalists to highlight the issue of Hayatullah's murder. It seems her death would put an end to the campaign to seek out and punish Hayatullah's killers.

Hayatullah's three sons and two daughters were orphaned the day he died. Still they had a loving mother who being a teacher could ensure that they are properly educated and looked after. She seemed to have admirably performed that duty for more than a year on her own following her husband's death. But her death has once again orphaned her young children, the oldest of whom is a 10-year old girl and the youngest a son aged two and a half years.

The circumstances of Mehrunnisa's death are intriguing. According to her family members, she was sleeping alone that night in one of the two upper-storey rooms. Her five children were sleeping in the adjacent room. The blast took place at 3 am and blew up a portion of the building, more so the room in which she was asleep. She was killed on the spot as her left arm and leg was blown-up and her face was badly damaged. All her children survived the explosion.

Mehrunnisa had returned home the same day after spending five days with her parents in the nearby Mosaki village. It is obvious that those who planted the bomb at her home and then triggered the blast with a remote-control device were keeping track of her movements. They knew that she had returned home and were thus able to strike the same night.

In the tribal set-up in North Waziristan, her inlaws and parents would have to consider the consequences before blaming someone for the bomb explosion. The moment they accuse someone of the murder a new blood-feud would start and they would be then under compulsion to take revenge. It is a hard world out there and fighting for honour is something cherished and done even if it causes more suffering on the family.

It is, in fact, the third tragedy to have struck the ill-fated family. One of his younger brothers, a teenager studying in school, was killed after Hayatullah's murder. He was kidnapped while returning home from school and shot dead. His murder was blamed on a rival family, which was distantly related to Hayatullah's, and was considered part of their ongoing blood-feud. Earlier, a member of that family had been murdered and Hayatullah's family was accused of the murder.

Hayatullah's father and a brother are working in the UAE. They have rush to Pakistan every time a tragedy occurs in the family. His father patched up with the rival family after Hayatullah's younger brother was killed. The reconciliation became possible because each family had lost a member and scores had thus already been settled.

Government officials in Peshawar and North Waziristan have been telling journalists that Hayatullah was murdered due to a monetary dispute. A federal government report released in March 2007 gave the same reason for his murder. The judicial inquiry conducted by a judge of the Peshawar High Court was inconclusive even though it termed the role of the intelligence agencies in Hayatullah's murder suspicious. Another story that was being told and retold by government officials was that he was killed due to a dispute with some Uzbeks hiding in the area.

However, Hayatullah's brother Ehsanullah and his wife had steadfastly maintained that he was kidnapped and killed at the behest of secret agencies to punish him for taking pictures of debris of a US-made missile that had been apparently fired by a pilotless Predator spy plane to kill suspected al-Qaeda fighter Hamza Rabia in Hormuz village. His photographs proved the Pakistan Army's claim to be incorrect that Rabia and four Pakistani villagers were killed in an accidental ammunitions explosion. The army has been denying reports that US military was undertaking missile strikes in Pakistani territory and it even claimed responsibility for one such attack that killed 83 students of a madrasa in Bajaur Agency.

Hayatullah posthumously was hailed as a brave journalist who laid down his life while seeking the truth. He was given awards at home and abroad for showing courage in journalism. That surely would have brought some solace to his widow and his aggrieved family. But the death of his widow in the bomb blast has revived memories of Hayatullah's brutal murder and shocked everyone. There is now this aching concern for the unfortunate couple's five small children. The government and organisations representing media owners and working journalists have a duty to do something to look after the needs of these children. It would be a tribute to the late journalist and his wife.

I owe a lot to my university education. In fact it would be fair to say that if it weren't for that education I would not have been half the man that I am now (whether that is a good thing or a bad thing only time will tell). One of the most influential and important books that I read in my college days was Chinua Achebe's 'Things Fall Apart,' arguably one of the best novels ever written. Along with Miguel Cervantes's 'Don Quixote,' 'Things Fall Apart' ranks, personally of course, as masterpieces of literature, a classic in the sense that what it talks about and the issues that it raises are as relevant as they were in mid-twentieth century when the novel was written.

One of the things about a good book -- just like a good TV show -- is that you can read it again, and again, and again, and it will be as relevant, insightful and enjoyable. I read 'Things Fall Apart' a few months ago (the first time had been in a university course way back in 1992) and couldn't help but notice how much it applied to today's Pakistan. Perhaps, readers can see for themselves what I am trying to say - I can start by first, briefly, describing all that happens in 'Things Fall Apart.'

A large part of the plot centres on a cluster of nine villages on the lower Niger. The area is called Umuofia and it is home to a powerful clan, known for its martial prowess and developed and complex social customs. It is in other words the home of a powerful and proud race. The protagonist of the novel is Okonkwo, a self-made man whose primary aim in life has been to be what his father, a flute-player, was not. As a further sign of his high status in the village, he has three wives and his barn is full of the local staple, yams. More importantly, he is financially prosperous and not in debt, a condition that his father could never really get out of. Okonkwo is very much a patriarch, ruling his family with complete authority.

One day, a neighbouring tribe commits an offence against a member of the Umuofia. To prevent war, the clan which committed the offence gives the Umuofia a virgin and a young boy. The girl is to become the offended Umuofia man's new wife. The boy, whose name is Ikemefuna, will be sacrificed but after some time. The boy lives in Umuofia for three years and during this time he lives in Okonkwo's home, in effect becoming a member of the latter's family.

Nwoye, Okonkwo's oldest son, takes to Ikemefuna like he would if he were his real brother. But eventually the time comes for Ikemefuna to be sacrificed and a group of men from the clan take him away to kill him in the forest. Instead of preventing the boy's death, Okonkwo takes part in the ritual murder of the boy. Okonkwo does this because he does not want to be seen as weak and kind-hearted by his peers. His son however is severely traumatised by this turn of events.

There is a similar kind of effect on Okonkwo as well but he acts as if he is fine and continues with his plan to become chief of his clan. Okonkwo also has a daughter, Ezinma, from his second wife, Ekwefi. This wife of his bore him ten children but only Ezinma survived, and although she is still a sickly and weak child, her father loves her dearly. At another time, while attending a funeral of one of the clan's elders, there is a problem in Okonkwo's gun which explodes and kills a boy. In accordance with Umuofia custom, Okonkwo and his family are exiled for seven years. Clearly, this comes as a massive setback to the man because he has to not only give up his quest to be tribal chief but also start all over again in a new village.

Okonkwo becomes a most bitter man as a result of this, especially since he believes that a man is master of his own destiny. The accident with the gun and the resulting exile is clearly an indication that at times a man is not in control of his own destiny and fate and that factors beyond one's own control are at work. However, luckily for him, he can go to Mbanto, the land of his mother and where his uncle, Uchendu, is lord. There, Okonkwo and his family are treated well. During the period of his exile, the white man comes to both Umuofia and Mbanto. The white man first comes in the guise of the Christian missionary, preaching a faith that seems strange to the local people. However, converts are gained gradually and eventually Okonkwo's own son, Nwoye, converts. When Okonkwo finds out that his son has changed his faith he beats him and the son runs away from the home.

After his exile, Okonkwo returns to his own land, only to find that everything has changed. The church is there and its new adherents are fanatical, to the extent that they are overtly disrespectful of their clan's customs and traditions. But perhaps the worst thing that has now happened is that the white man has installed his own form of government in Umuofia. The tribe's system of justice has been replaced by that of the district commissioner whose verdicts are backed by the barrel of the white man's gun.

Later, during a clan's religious meeting, a convert unmasks one of the clan spirits. The offence according to local tradition is very serious and the clan decides that the church has to leave Umuofia, after which the church's building is razed. Soon, the DC asks the leaders of the clan, including Okonkwo, to meet him to come to some kind of settlement. During the meeting the clan's leaders are arrested and taken to prison, where they are tortured and held until the tribe pays a heavy fine.

After this traumatic episode, the clan calls an urgent meeting where the agenda is whether to fight the white man or to live peacefully with him and his system. It is clear that Okonkwo is an honourable man and wants to resist the white man. During the meeting, messengers from the white man's court come and order the men to break up their gathering. This is painful for Okonkwo because such meetings are the heart of Umuofia's system of government and any interference means the end of whatever independence the clan and its members have left. These thoughts anger Okonkwo and he kills one of the court messengers while the others escape.

Okonkwo sees this act of allowing the court messengers to escape as a sign that his clans people are not going to fight the white man and that unlike him the others will not resist the death of their traditions and freedom. Okonkwo is a proud man and would rather die than be judged by the court of the white man or killed under the law of the white man. So, he goes home -- this proud defiant man -- and hangs himself. When the DC comes and sees what has happened, he says he will think of writing a book on his experiences -- his book's title: 'The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.'

Okonkwo could be any one of us, especially those who have some principles. And the white man of the mid-twentieth century Africa is today's man in khaki. The rest I leave to your -- the reader's imagination.

The writer is Op-ed Pages Editor of The News

Email: omarq@cyber.net.pk