Between 4.8 and 12.7 million metric tons of plastic material end up in the oceans every year. The amount of plastic in the ocean each year will massively increase by 2025.

Pretty soon we’ll have oceans of plastic instead of marine life. What can we do to stop this?

The alarming state of earth’s degradation was bothering me immensely these days, especially after all the videos and articles circulating on social media platforms. But I continuously felt helpless. I use the plastic container and throw it in my segregated bin; to be reused and recycled. But the government throws all that trash into the ocean. How can I play my part? What can I do now that I haven’t done before?

My cell phone pinged. It was Saman.

The message was to the point, always practical and abrupt. Never bowing down to diplomatism and awkward pleasantries.

“I’m coming. Make sure hubby is gone to the office. Will get us lunch. Don’t cook.”

Okay. That’s sounds good. Maybe she was bored and needed to unwind. Saman was always welcomed in my home. She’s more like a sister than a friend. Every time she’s over she makes sure to help me around the house and take care of Ibrahim while I tend to things that have been neglected, like combing my hair.

Fawad noticed me smiling as I put down my cellphone, the male sparkle of suspicion in his eye. I hated that look and I didn’t let him get away with it; I rolled my eyes to show my disapproval.

“What’s up?” he asked ignoring my eye roll.

“Oh, its nothing. It’s Saman. She’s coming.”

“Oh, that’s good. Maybe the two of you can go out.”

“She’s getting lunch so I guess she wants to stay in. Let’s see.”

Fawad made himself scarce pretty quickly after that and I just straightened the house a bit before I cleaned myself up and Ibrahim.

I was buzzing around doing this and that when the doorbell finally rang.

“Hey!” Saman bustled in with two big brown bags and gave me a tight hug before she dumped her things on the dining table.

She immediately picked up Ibrahim who waddled his way towards her, balancing his milk tummy on two chubby legs and made it into her arms without falling down. He gurgled his approval. She loved her dearly and one could tell that the feeling was mutual. Ibrahim hugged her back.

“You’re walking! OMG you’re growing up to be such a big baby. You’re such a darling.” She cooed while she hugged him tight and kissed him on the head.

“How are you, darling?” It was my turn to be pampered. “I got you your favourite. Mom made Chinese and I asked her to pack us some for lunch. Its egg rice and chicken chilies. And for Ibrahim I made a chicken puree and a fruit trifle. He’ll love it!”

“You know I would have cooked us lunch or we could have gone out. You didn’t need to go through the trouble.”

“Yes, go out into the jungle. There isn’t one decent and quiet place in Karachi. Every place is either too crowded or too noisy. And this traffic! I wanted to spend some quiet time with my friend and my baby. I couldn’t do that out there.” She gestured towards the door as if it was Jurassic Park in the wild outside with a dinosaur waiting to attack.

“Yeah I get it. It’s so peaceful at home. And besides, after waking up from that coma I crave for quiet and peace that I haven’t been able to find anywhere but within these four walls.” Home was indeed a blessing.

“The empath, the introvert and the old soul! This world is such a horror for us, isn’t it?”

She sat down and folded her feet on the couch. Ibrahim crawled away to play with his toys.

“Saima, sit down. I want us to talk. I have some news for you.”

“That sounds serious. What’s up?”

I was mildly worried. With this one, I couldn’t be sure. She always had something up her sleeve.

“I’m joining the WHO. They are conducted a study, a project of sorts on the damage done to the earth’s ecosystem by the extensive plastic pollution on the oceans of the world. The extent of this pollution is corroding the ecosystem and ruining marine life. This, in turn, is creating disease and a hazardous disruption on human life. It’s a prime concern of world authorities investigating human health. Karachi is at the coastal city of one of the major water body of the world, the Arabian Sea. There was an opening for a job that I applied for and they accepted my CV and proposal. They are sending me to Germany for 6 months for a diploma and then I’ll become a part of the panel that will conduct this research and find a viable solution to the problem.”

I just sat there dumbfounded. Saman stared at me till I finally spoke.

“Doesn’t the solution lie in clearing up the oceans?” Now that sounded smarter in my head. That coma must have dulled more grey matter than I thought.

“That’s the immediate solution and yes clearing is happening. WHO is working with other organisations for a massive clear up but where will all that waste go? A lot of it is being used in landfills and a lot of it, especially hazardous waste is being sent off into open space. Along with ruining our own planet we are successfully polluting the solar system. These are not practical solutions. We need to replace plastic and also prevent further exploitation of marine life. Then what about the damage already done? As a whole we need to figure out how to counteract the damage done to human sustenance as well as marine life. It’s a lot more complicated than we think.”

“And your parents are okay with you going?”

“Yes, Saima they are. It’s a very prestigious position and WHO is paying me really well. I’m doing this for my future. They are very supportive of my dream. We can’t save them all, Saima. I can’t end the war in Syria or the genocide in Myanmar. But I can make the planet safer and livable for future generations. I can play my part.”

I knew that Saman had even tried to go to Syria and also work for the refugees but she was faced by family disapproval and discontent. She had to give up those causes and resorted to praying for them instead. They need our prayers but they also need our efforts, she argued till buckling down and giving up.

I looked closely at my animated and full of heart friend. While most of us were living the lives that we believed were destined for us or even chosen by us; she was living her life for others. We all clambered onto the conveyor belt and then were handed down one task after another to fulfill till we found ourselves in a position where we were tied down by family, commitments and kids.

But then again there are plenty of people taking care of that side of the coin too, my mind debated. There are plenty of saviors and workers and revolutionaries. Why did she have to make the sacrifice? Why couldn’t she have taken the conventional path and found happiness for herself?

As if to read my thoughts, she continued, “I don’t find happiness in the ordinary. I can’t follow the conventional way of life. You’re just living for yourself, Saima. No offense but whatever you do in life is selfish. It is just fulfilling your own desires and your ends. When planet earth collapses and we won’t have a workable ecosystem then it will be our problem. When there will be no water to drink and no food to eat, will we then open our eyes to reality? We will all be to blame and we will all suffer; you, me and us.”

“Is this what you really want? Do you want to live away from your family and friends?”

“It’s only for the first 6 months. Then I’ll be here with you all. I’ll be based in Karachi. It will be a regular job similar to all the other jobs I’ve had in the past.”

I saw the wisdom in her choice. She would be hitting two birds with one stone. She’ll be fulfilling her need and desire to save the planet while working which is also important to her. She would often say that financial independence was the only way to help women to empower themselves. There was no such thing as emotional empowerment. That was a mindset stuck in the traditional mentalities of our older generation and meted out by delivering cruelties to the weaker women of the household like wives of their sons or their own daughters. That cycle had to break. The men had to start accepting the fact that their women can be their equals and meet them half way with the economic benefits to the family and care of the young. “Their” women, (as if they owned them.. humph) were not only existing to fulfill their whims and their demands but to make decisions and effect future generations with their wisdom.

“So, when will you leave?”

I was already missing my friend and my confidante.

“Tomorrow.” She said it matter-of-factly. Just like that. “Tomorrow.”

She knew that I would cry. She just knew it and yet she didn’t give me any time to filter this information.

“Saima, I will be back in no time at all. You’ll be busy with your baby and your home and you won’t even know it and I’ll be back.”

I continued to tear up. She got up and started to bring out the Tupperware filled to the brim with goodies and dishes from the kitchen.

She picked up Ibrahim and took him to the bathroom to wash his face and hands and placed him on the high chair ready to give him his lunch.

I got up and fixed my face.

When I got back into the dining room she was already feeding my child with all the love and attention that any aunt could give. The world needed more people like this one, selfless and giving and with the way the world was currently, doomed and in despair; I felt that as a generation of humans we had let the world down. We had failed and now the world would be saved by the few souls remaining; similar to my Saman, the few people left who cared enough to try and make a difference.