In case you didn’t know, there is something of a slow-burning revolution going on in Pakistan right now. After years of taking crap from the political elite, the public is finally starting to turn on them.

Here’s what it’s like to be a politician in Pakistan (or indeed anywhere). You tell a bunch of lies, you stir up the public, you get into office and live a life of absolute luxury while the people around you go hungry. You exercise absolute authority over everything. You are never on time, you rarely pay out of your own pocket and the laws don’t apply to you. You quite literally get away with murder. Then when you’re getting old, you pass the baton on to your kids.

Sometimes things go wrong and the army steps in, kicking you into a life of even more luxurious exile overseas, where you weep into your silk bed sheets every night thinking about the millions of poor Pakistanis you could be exploiting, if only they’d let you back into the country dammit. To make yourself feel better, you get hair transplants. This is to demonstrate to the people of Pakistan that you feel their pain, because hair transplants are painful, get it?

You worm your way back into Pakistani political life, rig an election, fool the public again and c’est la vie.

Except this time it’s not working out that way. I just got done watching a video filmed by a passenger on an internal flight in Pakistan that was delayed for two hours waiting for a politician to board. When he finally showed up, he was hounded off the plane by the furious crew and passengers, shouting “How long are we going to put up with this in this country?”

I cannot emphasize enough how big a deal this is. This would never have happened even six months ago. Slowly, the tide is turning against the powerful elite. The people are finally finding their voice and social media is playing a huge part.

A few weeks ago I was watching footage of some demonstrations that turned into riots as crowds gathered demanding the PM’s resignation. My Greek husband was watching with me and without thinking he started to give a critique of the Pakistani public’s riot technique. Riot attendance is as natural to Greek teenagers as going to rock concerts. Whether they like it or not, they grow up with an in-depth knowledge of what to do during a riot.

If it’s one things Greeks love, it’s to see other people in the world rise up and kick back against authority. They’re not doing that much better on the political front, but as I’ve said when they riot, they take no prisoners.

Which brings me to the title of this post.

Dear People of Pakistan,

My Greek husband has been watching your rioting with much interest in the last few weeks. In case you were unaware, rioting is Greece’s national sport, and they are top of the line at what they do. The rioting public of Greece would like to extend a helping hand to the rioting public of Pakistan, with the following targeted benefits:

• Analysis of riot patterns and tips for improvement
• Customised design of amateur riot equipment and seminars such as molotov cocktails 101, 20 items you didn’t know you could use as missiles, how to use your Grandma for cover and more
• Gaining a stronger public image by strategies such as riot mascots. In Greece, we have Kanellos the dog.
• Tear gas management – lemon juice, milk, motorbike helmets are the tools you need to laugh until you cry in the face of authority.
• Bonus – the most efficient riot spread strategies; burn only the businesses you need to and save time

If you are interested in employing our services, we would be glad to help out. In return, you can teach us how to make those effigies you seem to be so good at making. We’re struggling to get Samaras’ big head just right.

Sincerely,

The Rioting Public of Greece