'Show me the faces of the men who killed my son'

I never saw the pictures of those who targeted and killed by son and his class fellows. In other attacks, such as the recent one on the campus of Peshawar’s Agriculture University, images of the terrorists were shown to the media.

Show me the faces as well, of the men who killed my 14-year-old son.

If I sound angry, it is because I am. Someone will have to pay for spilling our children’s blood. What do I tell my children, who have survived, about who killed their brother? How do I protect them if I don’t know who to protect them from? Three days after Dec 16, parents of the martyred children formed a group, so we could voice our demands collectively.

The army has shared information with us. The Peshawar corps commander called us to his office once to tell us that the terrorists have been killed. But that is not enough. Our families were destroyed. We are living corpses. Yes, we do go about our daily routines. Life cannot stop here either.

I know this sounds wrong to you, but I want them to bring the attackers and their facilitators to us. I want the authorities to say, “Here they are.” After that we will do what we want with them.

Dec 16 is a day I wish I could erase from the calendar. Yet, it comes every year, reminding me of the son I lost and the other one who was injured.

On that day, three years ago, my nephew, who works with a rescue service called to tell us that the school is under attack. Back then, there were suicide bombings almost everyday in Peshawar. And yet I wasn’t afraid. I told him calmly, “It is an army school, they will do their job. Don’t worry.” I had such confidence, such belief. But fifteen minutes later I called him back, my heart was sinking. I think this was the time, they found and killed my son.

They shot him in the back as he was trying to run out of the auditorium.

I had faith in the law enforcement agencies. My martyred son wanted to be an engineer but a week before he died, I tried to convince him to join the Pakistan Army.

We are all suffering now, all of us grieving parents. I usually get hit by bouts of dizziness and have developed arthritis.

When I look at the school dedicated to my son, I do feel pride. My son is gone but something is being kept alive in his name. But the pride is quickly replaced with pain. My son isn’t alive anymore except for in old pictures.

Shagufta Tahir is the mother of Muhammad Shaheer Khan, 14, martyred on Dec 16 in the attack on the Army Public School in Peshawar. As narrated to Aftab Ahmad.

Reporting by: Aftab Ahmed

Produced by: Benazir Shah, Natasha Mohammad Zai, and Sajjad Haider