Geographies are described as the cradle of certain civilizations, but the first cradle remains a mother’s lap, where a child grows and whose presence in society evolves into a civilization.
In a recent reflection on my own mother, I recalled Brig. Ikram Ullah Haq, who must have shed tears while abroad on pilgrimage, having lost his beloved mother on July 28, 2024. They were my neighbors in the Landikass neighborhood of Mingora, Swat. His brother, Ihsan Ul Haq, my next-door neighbor, works for the Associated Press of Pakistan (APP) while I previously served with Dawn Newspaper.
The WhatsApp display picture of Brig. Ikram Ullah Haq, currently on Hajj, always inspired me with his deep attachment to his mother, who was a strong pillar of her family despite facing many challenges singlehandedly. During the state era, her learned spouse, Honourable Haqqani Sahab, faced expulsion from Swat due to his strong Islamic ideology and affiliation with JI, leaving the larger-than-life Bibi Jee as a mother to all. She became the sole guardian not only to her sons but also to the neighborhood, providing fresh well water to shopkeepers and sharing fruit from the persimmon tree at their home, all at the cost of her own inconvenience, never once snubbing or denying the needy.
Some people are born for a purpose, and so was Bibi Jee. With strong nerves but a tender heart, she imparted religious education in the Holy
Quran to thousands of girls who have now become mothers and grandmothers, and provided counseling to many women facing family difficulties. She remained an imparter throughout her life—of knowledge, goodwill, charity, and care—sharing all that she was blessed with.
Bibi Jee was blessed with eight sons, who all became successful in their practical lives. Despite not having a daughter, she shared her heart and carried the worries and sufferings of others, serving and raising her sons. My own mother often misses not having another woman to share her heart with, but some women remain like a bank of other people’s worries and sufferings. Bibi Jee was one such woman, born to serve as a custodian and trustee of others needs. .
Rest in peace, Bibi Jee. The neighborhood you blessed with your kindness is saddened, including the milkman who enjoyed your homemade breakfast early in the mornings before he went on to distribute his milk.
PS: The shared picture is not of Bibi Jee rather symbolic of a mother- to – all that she truly personified.
