And it so happened that a teen student from Hangu in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, while restraining a suicide bomber to save 300 of his fellow students, miraculously did not die.

He sustained severe burns, however. The attack had attracted global attention and various countries offered to help with the situation. After all, heroes like this young man are supposed to be saved and savored. He was flown to the United Kingdom for better treatment immediately, and with well-deserved protocol as well.

The western doctors treated him. The western doctors saved his life. The western media hailed him. He was the hero who had survived a brutal attack on his life and stood up for others. True, the attackers hadn’t picked him out of a crowd to kill. Rather he’d picked the bomber out himself to tackle with.

The deed was, indeed, brave.

Too bad though, his deed couldn’t save that other school a mile away in that other village with 50 children who died at the hands of a drone and another one with 200 children at the hands of another suicide bomber.

Why didn’t the West talk about them?

What was so special about this one kid who had survived? He had survived for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like he was dead. He was alive and well and in Britain and honored and flew in luxury planes and drove in luxury cars and met with famous people and gave speeches talking about how bad the situation was in his Pakistani neck of the woods under the Taliban, how brutal the attack he’d survived was.

He was giving Pakistan a bad name!

He was telling everyone abroad how hopeless the situation in Pakistan was. He was telling everyone what problems his countrymen faced. Instead of keeping up appearances like you’re supposed to, he was spilling all the beans.

He was constantly reminding Pakistan of how ugly it could be.

His father was using him as a tool to get British nationality and money and his mother paraded in just a chadar now. Her niqab was gone! And the boy – he looked healthier than ever. Looking at him, you’d never guess he ever was a victim of such an attack. To be honest, the entire episode of him and the suicide bomber smelled of western conspiracy. How could a child of fifteen tackle a suicide bomber? They wear jackets and they’re scary and they blow themselves up before anyone can reach them. How was this boy able to embrace him thus?

Lies. All lies!

His father must’ve guided him to tell the tale. And his father was surely paid by enemy agencies to tell this tale. The West was using him to hide its guilt for all the drone attacks and such. They even gave him the Noble Prize for his bravery, for his struggle against such a ruthless enemy under such harsh times and conditions. And he gladly took it.

Traitor!

Pakistan shall never buy this hype. Pakistan shall never forget being insulted like this. Pakistan shall not be fooled by Western trickery. Pakistan shall disown this fake hero! Pakistan shall celebrate a day to defame this fake hero. Pakistani children shall be told to hate this fake hero. And Pakistan shall lash out over social media to make sure the West hears the sentiments of her people that they despise this fake hero!

Instead, Pakistan will hail that little girl who died at the hands of that gunman who raided her school bus, asked for her by name and shot her in the face. Poor thing. All she had done was just write about how bad the situation was in her Pakistani neck of the woods under the Taliban, how tough her life was.

For her bravery, and for her courage to stand up to the enemy that plagued her town and her country, not fearing for her life, she was named Hero of the Year by this really nice western magazine. So nice of them! Even the elected assembly of KPK, her province, just recently honored her, and her parents, and her town – a year after her death.

But that poor thing. She is dead. And so, Pakistan hails her. Because Pakistan does not hate dead children. It is difficult to hate dead children. They don’t talk. They don’t protest. They are easily forgotten.

If only that boy from Hangu in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, while restraining a suicide bomber to save 300 of his fellow students, had died too.

Humeira Kazmi blogs about life, writing life, and her own books. Humor is the key ingredient in her pieces. Follow her on Twitter