Education, Justice and Memory Network (EdJAM), 2023. Self-distributed by filmmaker.
Dostain Baloch provides a rare insight into the life of those impacted by gang wars in Karachi’s Lyari area. Populated initially by Sindhi and Baloch fisherfolk and nomads, it is one of Karachi’s oldest settlements and its most densely populated. From the 1970s, gangs peddling the drugs that came with America’s war in Afghanistan began operations in Lyari. Through the 1980s and 1990s these gangs became affiliated with political parties as the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) and the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) sought to control Karachi. Bloody clashes between the gangs were linked to these political interests. Periodically the military led raids that attempted to contain the influence of gangs and from 2010 onwards particularly aggressive operations were carried out in Lyari. There is an assemblage of local gangsters, citizens’ committees, and state authorities that provide governance in the area, as has been discussed by Sarwat Viqar (“Constructing Lyari: Place, Governance and Identity in a Karachi Neighbourhood,” South Asian History and Culture 5, no. 3, 2014). Baloch’s 30-minute documentary, Shadowlands, touches upon the impact of all this on those looking to carry out their lives without direct involvement in the gangs. The documentary’s narrative is moved forward by two main protagonists: Amna Baloch and Nawaz Lassi. Despite the scars they carry, both are immediately endearing. It does Dostain Baloch immense credit as a director that the humour and resilience that both Amna and Nawaz display, in their own distinct ways, is sensitively captured.
We start with Amna. Raised by her mother after her father abandoned them both for a second family, she is married at a young age to a cousin who is a close associate of the famous gangster, Rehman Dakait. Somewhat inevitably, her husband is killed a few years later and Amna is left to raise her three children in the shadow of this gang association. Over the years she has become an important voice in raising awareness about gang culture and police repression. It is often noted that the women in Lyari are organized and intrepid in contesting indiscriminate police arrests, especially of minors. In this they are successful when the police venture into Lyari. This strength is represented in a subtle way in the documentary. Viewers first encounter Amna as she carries out her household chores, cutting vegetables, sweeping the floor, and cooking food. And we are left with the impression that in the shadow of gang violence, living with loss and fear, even these everyday activities carry an imprint of heroic effort. We get a further demonstration of her resilience as we hear her talk about her activism and see clips of her addressing the Karachi press club or later contesting what seems to be a police raid. Amna is also immensely thoughtful about the ways in which her own activism might be perceived given her husband’s association as well as the pressure such legacies place on her son. It is very hard to not be touched by the quiet determination and love with which she is raising her children.
Nawaz Lassi has lost four sons to violence: two to gang fights and two to police-staged encounters where the police shoots those it is unlikely to find enough direct evidence to convict. Another son has succumbed to drug addiction. Grief clearly overwhelms Nawaz at times, but he continues to find joy in his grandchildren. Earning his living by selling street food, Nawaz relies on alcohol but also on the moments he can spend with his grandchildren to keep him going. Displaying a deep sense of ownership of and belonging to Lyari, Nawaz is poetic in his expression. He tells us that after these losses he is a “mere shadow” going about the streets of Lyari. But this land of shadows is “a mother” whose lap he does not want his community to leave. He also notes that his own grief is less than that of many others. Nevertheless, if the gang wars continue, this bustling locality, where he claims his family has lived for about 120 to 130 years, will, by his prophecy, turn into a shamshan ghat. This term refers to riverside spaces for cremating bodies, used primarily by Hindus, and evokes a profound sense of desolation. Nawaz visibly battles those bleak visions on a daily basis even as he continues to hope for a better future for his grandchildren.
The camera brings an immensely affectionate eye to Lyari in this short documentary. The joy that children express in playing football, the seriousness with which a kebab maker stokes the fire in his grill, and the silent comradery with which men sip tea at a roadside café all present sensitive portraits. At the same time there is no shying away from the broken streets, cramped houses, and lack of service provision that also characterize Lyari. Complemented with a provocative and catchy Baloch rap soundtrack the documentary clearly aims to provide some space for the residents of much maligned Lyari to speak for themselves. Shadowlands achieves this goal in an understated and meaningful manner.
Humeira Iqtidar
King’s College London, London