که وم ژوندی د ازادۍ د اتڼ برخه به يم
که چېرې مړ وم نو زېری مې تر ګوره راوړئ
(If I live to see the dawn of freedom, I will be part of the dance to celebrate it
If I were dead by then, bring its happy tidings to my grave)
I had heard of Gilaman Wazir as a firebrand activist of Pashtun Tahaffuz Movement (PTM), but I had not been familiar with the poetry he wrote. Since receiving the news of his death, I have been watching the numerous videos he uploaded to social media, sometimes recounting his dramatic life experiences, sometimes singing his rebellious poems and at other times, teaching his children Pashto lessons. He recited his rebellious poems extempore with amazing verve and conviction. His courage and sense of purpose shone through his verses, and it reflected how deeply he felt the pain and misfortune of his people, battered by other people's wars.
Gilaman Wazir went about his life having accepted that his death would be untimely, many years before he was actually killed. It is a recurring theme in his poetry. He had chosen the path of vocal defiance against the oppressor force, so naturally he was on limited time. He used that limited time with such flair and grit, that it caused a stir during his lifetime and unleashed tremors after his death. The size of crowds that came out to join his funeral procession in several towns as it travelled from Islamabad to his village, Asadkhel, in North Waziristan, was extraordinary.
A young man of such talent should have been frequenting literary circles, called over to media events, winning peace awards, but Gilaman of a remote village in North Waziristan, spent a life of poverty and struggle, detentions and torture
Gilaman was his pen name: it means the one with grievances. He departed in the prime of his youth without redressal of any of his grievances. His origins were very humble. In one of his many videos, he tells the story of his early years. He said he could receive only very basic formal education in his village. Poverty forced him to quit school and he went in search of work, first to Lahore and later to the Middle East.
Listening to his poetry and his eloquent speeches, showing a remarkable knowledge of idiom, it seems incredible that he learned the intricacies of literary Pashto all by himself. He had a natural talent for impromptu poetry that he had honed by participating in tappay contests in his village since he was a boy.
In one of his epic poems, he talks about how his sweetheart complained to him one day that despite being a prolific poet, he never wrote a verse in praise of her beauty. He replies that every time he picks his pen to write a line extolling her features, the thoughts of his demolished village, his abducted cousins, his widowed sister and his martyred uncle haunt him – and prevent him for writing about anything but the plight of his Pashtun people.
The decisive point in his life took place at the time of the killing of Naqeeb Mehsud in Karachi in 2018. That's when PTM gathered impetus as a grassroots rights movement and its message resonated across the Pashtun territories and beyond. Deeply affected by that tragedy, Gilaman turned from poetry of romance and nostalgia to poetry of resistance.
The Pakistani state's strategy of turning Pashtun areas into jihad bases, letting militants consolidate and take control of those areas and then bombarding the same areas in the name of taking out the terrorists that it had nurtured in the first place, resulted in the loss of thousands of lives and complete destruction of the native way of life. With a profound awareness of the injustice suffered by his people, Gilaman did not mince his words in completely rejecting the Pakistani state in his revolutionary poetry. He said, "Why should I raise the green flag of Pakistan, when it's the same flag I see on the aircrafts that drop missiles on my village, when it's the same flag I see on the uniform of the soldier who humiliates my people, when it's the same flag that is hoisted on our destroyed and looted houses as a sign of their victory and our destruction?"
He recounted the brutal torture he suffered when he was imprisoned, but his indomitable spirit remained unconquerable. In a tour of his village, he showed the spot under a tree where beheadings often took place when TTP was in control of North Waziristan. He said that passing by such sites still filled the traumatised people of the area with terror, as it brought back memories of headless bodies of their acquaintances that they used to find there every other day, with warning notes of a similar fate for those who might consider opposing the TTP. While remembering all those brutalities, the tone of Gilaman's speech and poetry never appealed to listeners' sense of pity or sympathy; it always remained proud, defiant and mocking towards centres of power. His voice continued to challenge authorities until his last breath.
The motives of his murderers remain a mystery and there are reports that they managed to escape the country. It adds a new twist of irony to the tragedy of Gilaman's death, as his name had remained on exit control list and he could not be taken abroad for further treatment, whereas his killers managed to escape. Gilaman Wazir succumbed to injuries in Islamabad on 11th July 2024, three days after a violent attack on him. He was 29 years old.
A young man of such talent should have been frequenting literary circles, called over to media events, winning peace awards, but Gilaman of a remote village in North Waziristan, spent a life of poverty and struggle, detentions and torture. His martyrdom has given a new impetus to his call for resistance at a scale that has not been seen in a long time. Only if he could briefly witness the unprecedented outpouring of love for him from around the world on his death, maybe a minuscule part of the grievances Gilaman took away with him would have been redressed.