Benazir Bhutto.
Born on 21 June 1953.
Assassinated on 27 December 2007.
This woman is my hero. A testimony to everything I admire in people; strong, capable, opinionated, determined. With her death, Pakistan's strongest hope for democracy has been extinguished. A part of the country-namely, everything free and bright and beautiful-has died with this dynamic, passionate woman. And now, every citizen is, once again, condemned to be a puppet in the hands of an insidious, ruthless dictator in an ominous brown uniform-who claims he's not a 'dictator' (whom is he trying to kid?)
A couple of months ago, I read an interview of Benazir's in a Good Housekeeping magazine. Her words, vision and goals impressed me tremendously. As the first elected female leader of any Muslim state, she did not let the horror of her wrongly accused father's (Zulfikar Ali Bhutto) death deter her from her chosen path. Even the mysterious 'deaths' of her two beloved brothers, and the tremendous health problems of her husband (due to his long and torturous imprisonment) only motivated her further. Twice, she was elected as Prime Minister; and twice, she was removed from office on grounds of alleged corruption (just because she was female). Ignoring daily death threats from extremist Muslim groups, she emerged from her self imposed exile as a beacon of hope for liberal, freedom loving Pakistanis.
Now, she's dead. The flame, the torch she bore for so long, has been snuffed out. And these are the reactions of my dear peers.
"What? Who was that? Damn, could you spell her name? It was a female, right?"
"Man, her hair rocks! Who is she?"
"Who even cares? Just hurry up and tell me whcih dress you're wearing for new year's!"
Yeah. It's so comforting to know that Bhutto's life has not been in vain.
SHEESH.
