Satire: Fast-forward February 8 — what could happen on election day – Pakistan

As the clock strikes nine in the morning, those hoping for a day of debate, venting and even meme sharing on the World Wide Web are given a rude awakening.

At precisely 9:01am, Facebook and Twitter, but more importantly WhatsApp, go all too quiet, all too suspiciously. It does not ring any alarm bells until the perpetually annoying work group — on silent since times immemorial and till the end of times — gathers no new notifications.

By 9:30am, the news of the internet being down spreads like wildfire as frustrated cybernauts now have to solely rely on whatever the overexcited TV anchor with the cleanest of Gillette shaves and loudest of “Breaking News” squeals on the biggest of news channels has to feed them.

When the caretaker information minister — with a heavy heart and heavier feet, now that he will soon have to leave his position and go back to journalism — makes his first appearance of the day close to noon, internet outage is the first question he is asked by a reporter.

“Internet is not working all over? It must have been some technical issue on your part,” he says. “It’s nationwide? Did anyone try restarting devices? Arey baba, try that first. If it doesn’t work, then the nation should switch off its routers and switch them back on.”

“Do that with your right hand, and don’t forget to say Bismillah,” he adds.

A business tycoon known to offer free transport service to independent candidates post-elections on his private jet places an order for Airbus A380.

“To say that we’re going to be busy over the next few weeks is a massive understatement,” says the private pilot of the tycoon’s Beechcraft King Air 200. “The workload is going to be crazy. We’ve been told will have to do double shifts.

“Sir has ordered an Airbus but we’re not sure when it’s going to be delivered. On our part, we’ve got the suspension completely overhauled of our Beechcraft. In fact, we’ve put in new axles for all three wheels so the plane can bear extra load.

“The official capacity is 10 but to accommodate more independents, we have installed hand railings so an extra five can stand while sir sweet talks them. Another five can be placed on top of the jet, W-11 style. If a few even fall, we can always find more independents.”

After the failure of Result Management System (RMS) in 2013 and even bigger failure of Result Transmission System (RTS) in 2018, the electoral watchdog unveils a brand new system.

“It’s brand new and it’s state of the art with absolutely zero chance of failure,” claims the chief’s selection commissioner. “It’s called Result Manipulation System. Unlike the previous systems, this one has been rigorously tested for manipulation, tweaking, reversing, changing and switching of results, and it’s given us a 100pc result every time.”

It also has multi-modal manipulation options, which means we can make it lag in certain constituencies where results are unfavourable, and make it super-fast where results are favourable. If the entire system needs crashing, that’s also possible with a mere pull of the plug.

With his party’s victory in sight, the country’s three-time premature evacuator breathes a sigh of relief as he promises his loved ones he would try to last a full term in the country, provided that his government stays and he doesn’t pick a fight with the powers that be.

“He will take things easy this time, and won’t be as sensitive as he was before,” a senior party leader tells Dawn on the condition of anonymity.

“That isn’t to say that he won’t come out of his shell every now and then but in the end he will bow down to the situation and just focus on lasting longer in the prime minister’s office and the country.”

The voting process goes as smooth as butter — except for one particular symbol-less party’s voters, who are asked to pass their Yo-Yo tests, get a 9 on their IELTS test and demonstrate one superhuman trait before being allowed into polling booths.

The Breaking News squealer has a field day, gleefully telling the network’s viewers how unfit his least favourite party’s voters are.

Huffing and puffing, the voters take the matter to the most supreme of courts in the land, hoping that their fitness (or lack thereof) won’t keep them from exercising their democratic right.

“My lord, my client has been denied the right to vote,” says the petitioner’s attorney.

“How so?” the judge asks.

“We’re being made to do these insane tasks just because we want to vote for our party. It’s all over the news. TV channels have been showing live footage since morning,” the attorney replies.

“Sorry, we don’t watch TV,” the big judge shoots back as the jam-packed courtroom falls silent just for a moment to gather its thoughts.

“What? We don’t even use phones, or cars or anything else like that. I ride my Andalusian thoroughbred up the Constitution Avenue every day. My brother judge next to me still uses messenger pigeons.”

“Technology is a plague,” he adds.

As the clock strikes 6pm, and the watchdog’s embargo to report results is lifted, a leading ‘niji’ (private) channel doesn’t waste a nanosecond in making the announcement.

“Keeping in line with our long tradition, and like all previous elections since the 1870s, we are again the first ones to call the results,” says the squealer.

“Nazreen (viewers) … keeping in line with our long tradition, and like all previous elections since the 1870s, we are again the first ones to call the results,” he repeats again.

“Let me say this once again, keeping in line with our long tradition, and like all previous elections since the 1870s, we are again the first ones to call the results,” the squealer would say over and over and over again until you would switch to another station where another squealer would be claiming exactly the same honour for his employers.

The Pakistan Meteorological Department’s newly installed sonar system picks up mysterious sounds waves emanating from all over Pakistan.

“Sir, I have very strange reading here, something I’ve never seen. Over!” a panicked radar operator, who is still on probation, yells on the walkie talkie as beads of sparkling sweat emerge and slide down his temples.

“What is it you see?” the supervisor asks.

“Sir, the radar is showing tens and tens of shifty sound waves from almost all over Pakistan. Could it be an alien attack?”

“Relax, rookie! Are the sound waves coming from more are less six feet above the ground level?”

“Umm … yes, sir, approx six feet.”

“Are they showing everywhere except for AJK and GB? Also, is their intensity the strongest in Punjab?”

“Yes … and yes, sir. But how do you know this?”

“Rookie, you have a lot to learn. This is ‘zameer ki awaz’ (sounds of conscience) and it’s heard every election season. Its epicentre is always Punjab, but its shockwaves go as far as Islamabad, Sindh, KP and beyond.”

The scion of a grand political dynasty is dejected when his claim to beat foe-turned-friend-turned-foe in their own stronghold backfires supremely.

Faced with the new reality that he would now have to team up with the very rivals he bashed in the buildup to the elections, he gets creative.

“We have to accept that we have lost the elections by a landslide,” the young leader says as he tries to perfect his graceful loser look. “However, I will stand by what I said. When I said that they (rivals) are corrupt, I was talking about their hard disk drives being corrupt, which is a shame because you lose all data.

“And when I said they are the new blue-eyed, of course I mean that they are the blue-eyed of their mothers. Who isn’t that for their mothers?

“Don’t misconstrue my words and stop looking for controversies when there isn’t one. Whoever the Family League picks will be my prime minister.”

As the dust settles on the election day, a leading columnist and self-proclaimed torchbearer of impartial journalism quietly joins the party’s 37-member cabinet as the special assistant to the prime minister (SAPM) on media manhandling.

“This is the culmination of my 25 years of unbiased and impartial journalism for the Family League,” says the veteran columnist.

“In my role as the SAPM, I will suggest to my leadership the best ways to silence the media, how to manipulate things to our advantage and what spin to give when we do exactly the same things the previous government did.”

When asked if his switch to politics means the end of his journalism career, he says, “Not at all. If/when the government is over, I can always launch a new channel with my likeminded journalism buddies, become its president and get back to my unbiased journalism — but for the League only.”

After an electoral performance not big enough to take a principled stance, but big enough to land a couple ministries, MQM-P’s Rabita Committee holds a ‘hangami ijlas’ (emergency meeting) in Bahadurabad, Karachi.

“For the sake of our people and the city of Karachi, we have decided to form an alliance with the incoming government,” the party’s deputy convener says. “This has nothing to do with our or the party’s best interests but everything to do with Karachi and its residents.

“The two ministries we’re getting are for the people. We don’t want anything, and we don’t do anything for ourselves. It’s for the people that we’re going to sit on the treasury benches.”

Header image created with AI