Hope for the future

“People ask me,” I told Dr. Najib Paikan, “why I do this.”
He nodded as if he understood.
We were sitting in his office at Arzu-TV, one of a handful of new television stations trying to launch themselves as independent media in Mazar-e Sharif, the principal city in northern Afghanistan.
It’s a tough market.
Mazar was a battlefield during much of the civil war after the Soviet occupation, and it changed hands back and forth between the Taliban and the Northern Alliance. Today, it’s a dusty, muddy, helter-skelter city of about 400,000.
The capital of Balkh Province, which has probably 2 million people, though no one knows for sure. Its battle scars are evident.
Wounded veterans are commonplace, and widows in hejab or burqa beg for help on the streets.
Dr. Paikan — “Dr. Najib” to most folks — is an unlikely media entrepreneur. His training was as a medical doctor, but he’s always been posting news and opinion pieces on bulletinboards since his student days.
He’s in his early 40s, which means that his life has spanned the Soviet invasion, the uprising of the Mujahidin, the Soviet withdrawal, the civil war which followed that withdrawal, the rise of the Taliban, the ouster of the Taliban, the NATO occupation, and the current shaky government.
That’s a lot of history —brutal history — to be wrapped up in such a young life.
And Dr. Najib’s tendency to express his opinions has gotten him in trouble.
During the Taliban years, he got the idea to put out some publications for young people.
Illiteracy — particularly outside of the cities — is an enormous problem here. And Dr. Najib thought he might be able to effect change by putting out some magazines that would teach kids things like the alphabet and how to form letters.
He had no computers or printing equipment at his disposal, so the three magazines — Youth, Future, and Children and the Future — were produced by hand. Each letter inked upon the page with a pen. The finished pages were then photocopied and distributed.
The Taliban were outraged. Why, they wondered, did he want to help children learn to read and write? What could be more subversive?
Four times, they sent him to prison for his efforts.
Today, the Taliban have retreated to the shadows in the Balkh region. But Dr. Najib is still at it. A couple of magazine attempts have folded, but he’s been working in radio and now in television as well.
“When people ask me that question,” I told Dr. Najib as we sipped tea together, “I tell them it’s so I can meet people like you.”
He smiled at the compliment.
As we wrapped up the interview, which was being done as part of my preparation for a seminar, I asked one more question: “What does the Arzu in Arzu-TV mean?”
Another smile: “Hope,” he said.
It’s also the name of one of his daughters. In fact, he said, he has three children and all of their names mean “Hope” in a different language.
He’s now expecting a son. His name will also mean “Hope.”
It’s a thought to ponder on the walk back past the television station’s security guards, with their AK-47s ready, on the way back to the car.[[In-content Ad]]