This blog is written by Niyaz Muhammad, an aid worker for Islamic Relief. He is based in Mardan District where Islamic Relief is working with those who have fled the fighting in Buner, Dir and Swat. In his diary he reports on the situation in anarea that is struggling with more than 2 million displaced people.

14 June 2009

One of the most striking aspects of the current crisis in Pakistan is the vast numbers of women and children - up to 80 per cent - who make up the displaced population. They often have specific and complex needs that are hard to meet; from maternal healthcare to nutritional support for malnourished babies.

But I wanted to know about the stories of the men who have also been displaced. Coming from such a conservative society where men are expected to protect and provide for their families, I wondered how they were coping having lost everything they worked so hard for and being reliant on the help of strangers.

At the Health Centre in the village of Char Gulli I met 30-year-old Abdul Khaliq and his three-year-old son Yaar Zameen. Abdul told me that Yaar Zameen had diarrhoea and was very weak, he had brought him to this clinic because he knew that Islamic Relief was providing free health care. He told me sadly that if he had had to pay he would never been able to afford it and his son would have gone without help.

Abdul fled from Swat with his family, including his five children, at the start of June. They have no friends or relatives here so are staying in the house of stranger and 16 members of his family are sharing one small room.

He told me that he feels useless and helpless; he cannot get a job and he cannot provide for his family. Everyday he goes out looking for work and for food, but often comes back empty handed. He said that the looks of expectation on the faces of his children and their disappointment when they see he has nothing, is too much to bear.

He came with a small amount of money but has spent most of this on food and a fan to keep his children cool and now has almost nothing left. With so many displaced people in Mardan it is impossible for him to find a job. He could travel to a larger city such as Karachi but then who would take care of his family?

"We have lost everything that we worked for; our livestock, household belongings and the crops," Abdul said. "I have no source of income and no way of fulfilling my family's basic needs, so I am reliant on other people's help."

"I have huge responsibility taking care of my children and will do anything to make sure they do not suffer. Yet I feel so helpless," he said.

"I can't sleep because when everyone is asleep I think about the next day and the days and months after that and I wonder and worry what will happen. I believe there must be many other fathers out there like me who are going through this turmoil."

With no work and no income Abdul, and many other men like him, is feeling depressed and frustrated as he has no way to protect and provide for his family. He cannot even provide food or water and has to hope that other people will be generous enough to give them what they need. And yet he cannot take them home because it is still too dangerous.

The people in this part of the world are strong and men's identities are tied up with being the protector of the family. Pashtun men will rarely show their emotions and I was shocked that a young man like Abdul was sharing his troubles with me.

Abdul is only one year older than I am and has such an enormous burden on his shoulders, a burden I would struggle to meet. To see him suffering because he has lost his ability to provide for those that need him was heartbreaking and made me realise that conflict and displacement can have profound psychological effects on anyone; man or woman, young or old.

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