Ejaaz Ali Khan, son of Safdar Ali Khan, head of the opposition party MLN, has abducted Sadaf Mirza, daughter of the politician currently in power, Javed Mirza, and leader of the well-known political party named PTI in Peshawar, Pakistan.
Will Sadaf...
I sat in my plane seat, unable to suppress my anxiousness as I listened to the pilot make his final announcement about us landing soon. Air travel was not my favourite mode of transportation. I was nervous the entire time for some reason. I was used to flying, but I could never seem to get over my fear of flying. I was returning home to Pakistan after attending boarding school in London. I'd been away from home for nearly a decade. My father, Javed Mirza, is a well-known politician. I am fortunate to have enjoyed a privileged life as a result of my father's wealth and position. After finishing my studies in London, I decided to pursue my degree at a university in Peshawar, Pakistan, a beautiful city where my father is a government minister. Ever since my older brother, Aleem, unexpectedly passed away in a car accident four years ago, I've longed to be closer to my family. Growing up, Aleem and I were extremely close. Not only was he my brother, but also my best friend. Since Aleem's passing life hasn't really been the same since because my family, especially my father, has never been able to accept his passing.
Before heading to the baggage claim area to pick up my suitcases, I passed through the standard security procedures at the airport. I felt a tap on my right shoulder and I turned around to see who it was. A man dressed in a red shirt and white trouser stood behind me, wearing a badge that read 'baggage handler' and his name 'Amar' underneath it.
"Madam, do you require assistance with your luggage? I only charge 100 rupees each suitcase, which is the cheapest rate at the airport." He said to me in Urdu, with a smile on his face. I required assistance because I had packed the most of my belongings and gathered four suitcases, and 100 rupees was not a great sum, so I answered in my effort at Urdu, "Yes, please, I would welcome the assistance." I knew Urdu, but living in a foreign country had changed the way I pronounced certain words. When I spoke Urdu, my family thought I had an accent. Even though I thought I did a good job speaking my mother tongue, the comments from family continued. Amar pulled up a trolley without my asking, and as I pointed to my suitcases turning around on the rubber belt, he would pick them up and place them on the trolley. I was grateful for his assistance, even though I was paying for it, because it appeared that I had packed far too much, as the suitcases were fairly heavy.
Amar even pushed my trolley all the way to the end of the baggage claim. I hadn't changed any of my notes into rupees, so I gave him a twenty-pound note instead. After all of his hard work, I believed he earned it. He seemed thrilled with the money, as a big smile appeared on his face. He thanked me before departing.
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As I entered the arrivals lounge, I spotted some name plaques. As the daughter of a government minister, I was accustomed to being greeted by security guards rather than a family member. This was what happened whenever I returned for the summer break every year. Today would be no different. My father's security crew was in charge of greeting me and transporting me back to the family home.
I looked around the arrivals area until I found my name on a white plaque that read 'Sadaf Mirza.' I couldn't help but notice the man holding the plaque. As I walked towards him, I noticed him taking his glasses off and muttering to himself.
