Rich countries like France, Belgium and Spain were accused by Oxfam of doing practically nothing. President Musharraf said in a recent interview that the amount pledged thus far was ‘totally inadequate’. And while nations haggle about who will give how much, people in Kashmir are dying on the mountainsides.

A fortnight ago, my son Shakir and his wife Sheila went with a group of doctors led by the Civil Hospital’s Dr D S Akram to set up a camp for children in the village of Ghari Dupatta, twenty kilometres from Muzaffarabad. Among the volunteers was Sami, a friend and colleague of my son’s. Here are a few excerpts from his impressions:

"Thousands of ordinary people desperate to help have made the long, arduous and harrowing trek to what used to be Kashmir. I am just one of them... Here I am, back in my home... light years from the flimsy tent where the freezing cold nipped ceaselessly at my hands and feet. Layer upon layer of clothing, and I was still very, very cold. The stench of death was overpowering and consumed us by night as the cold air descended from the hills to remind us of the horrors that remained hidden in the inaccessible mountains rising above us... Rivers of dead cattle, streams of dazed people... their lives changed beyond recognition and comprehension..."

He goes on to complain that barely four weeks after the disaster, media coverage has already tapered off, and fears that this indifference will cause contributions for relief and rehabilitation to diminish to a trickle. But Sami, I’m afraid this is the way of the world: fresh natural catastrophes, wars and scandals make demands on newspaper space, television time and public attention span. People get bored of yesterday’s crises, and last week’s disaster is this week’s stale news.

Donor fatigue is another factor Sami is rightly concerned about. Already, the Kashmir earthquake is failing to move potential contributors despite the desperate plight of its people. Sami reminds us of the vast sums that flowed into post — tsunami relief efforts. But he forgets that Thailand and Sri Lanka are popular destinations for globe — trotting tourists. These are the people who donated so generously when the tsunami hit late last year. They empathised with the locals whose lives had suddenly been shattered. The reality is that hardly any foreigners visit Pakistan any more unless they have to for business or family reasons.

In a sense, charity does begin at home. It is much easier to help people one knows, even if they live far away. There has to be something in common to move us enough to give to strangers. In all fairness, how many of us in Pakistan write a cheque to help the starving millions in Africa? Or the many victims of frequent disasters in different parts of the world? This is a very human trait, so we need not feel guilty. It’s just the way the world is, Sami.

Another reason for the poor response is that, like it or not, Pakistan does have an image problem. Although the poor victims and survivors of the killer quake can hardly be held responsible for it, the world sees Pakistan and Pakistanis in a negative light. General Musharraf is right to express his concern for this state of affairs, but he forgets that you cannot improve the image without improving the product.

For years, we were drug peddlers to the world. Heroin and marijuana from these shores flooded Western markets, and many fortunes were built on this illicit traffic. Indeed, proceeds from this destructive trade have financed many parliamentary elections, palatial houses and lavish parties. While we prefer to turn a blind eye to the provenance of such ill — gotten wealth, foreigners do not.

Our more recent claim to fame is our standing as the hub of religious extremism and terrorism. While we suffer more from this particular form of madness than anybody else, outsiders do not want it exported to their countries. So every time a traveller with the dreaded green passport enters a foreign country (provided he can get a visa), he is subjected to suspicion and scrutiny. And we must not forget the flood of illegal immigrants that is our other major export to the rest of the world.

Under these circumstances, it is not difficult to see why Pakistanis are not the flavour of the month with much of the world. Of course it is manifestly unjust that the poor Kashmiris should suffer by association. But Sami, life is unfair.

In Britain, the image of Pakistan has largely been shaped by the flood of working class Punjabis and Kashmiris who flocked here in the Sixties to work in factories in North England. Over time, many of these factories have closed down, rendering thousands jobless. With uneducated parents who generally did not place much emphasis on education, their children were ill — prepared to excel in an increasingly sophisticated labour market. The third generation is torn between their rural, religious roots and a post — modern, secular Britain. The 7/7 bombers are a product of this community. Among all the Asian communities who have made Britain their home, Kashmiri — Pakistanis are most heavily represented in the jail population.

The truth of the matter is that if we wait for the rest of the world to help, tens of thousands of Kashmiris shivering in their remote villages will freeze to death. We must rely on our own resources to save these desperate souls. I read the other day that Pakistan has deferred the purchase of F — 16 jet fighters. This is a good step. Other frivolous defence spending must be cut down. However, Musharraf has denied that the military budget will be reduced, so in all probability, we will continue wasting money on toys for the boys. The recent full — page advertisements placed by public sector institutions to celebrate Musharraf’s sixth year in power are scandalous examples of sycophancy and waste. How many tents and blankets would this money have bought?

And finally Sami, thank you for sharing your experience with me. But at the end of the day, while we must be grateful for whatever help the world has given us, we have to do the job ourselves.