A gentle sunrise permeated the thick cloud that we were flying over. As we descended, the whiteness turned to a murky brown mist that hovered over the land as far as the eye could see.  It was like someone had sprinkled dust over the entire land, nothing really stood out, everything lay silent under the rising sun.

As I stepped out of Allama Iqbal  International Airport, I felt the morning chill, the remnants of an unusually long winter that still lingered. I was staying with my mother in Lahore and it was a weeklong trip that was to leave me both spiritually and emotionally stirred.

After a day or so, I found that daily life for the well off folk was pretty much as I expected; shopping, eating out, socialising and so on. They seemed to have a somewhat blinkered view of their country, choosing to ignore the daily calamities that befell those around them who were less fortunate.

Inflation is soaring and the price of basic commodities is at an all time high. The working people, the majority, are unable to afford to even purchase basic essentials such as flour, rice, sugar and oil on a regular basis.

I spoke to Kiran, a 12-year-old maid that worked in a house nearby. I asked her about going to school, friends and other interests. She replied, in a soft melancholy voice that ‘…this work is my life, nothing will ever change that. I was born into poverty and will die in poverty. No-one can do anything for so I am making the best of what I can’. Such profound words from a little girl who, in this country, would may be watching the X-Factor, reading girlie magazines and going to the cinema.

The gap between rich and poor is vast and the lower middle class(es) have been squeezed into poverty. As I talked to more workers in the area, a common theme emerged: despair and hopelessness.  From the higher middle class people to the sweeper on the street, they all said that they wanted to leave the country because there were no future prospects and that life would be difficult and miserable with the current economic and political environment.

There are police gunmen at most street corners, on top of schools and mosques and outside parks in the rich areas. Who are they protecting? What are they protecting them from? No-one, everyone? A sense of cautiousness fills me as I move around the city of Lahore. I was told many horrific stories about kidnappings and murders that occurred within many of the families I spoke to.

The people of Lahore and Pakistan need help to build up community spirit once more. They need to feel that there is someone or something that cares for them and their lives. The impoverished children live an oblivious life, they have no childhood to speak of, I met a little boy of 6 years, selling corn in a basket at the side of a dusty road. He smiled at me, a rare moment in my trip, may be he was unaware of the future that awaited him, or maybe today he will be able to eat a decent meal – I offered him Rs. 500 (approx £3.75) for all his corn.  He was overjoyed at the monthly income. I smiled back at him and as I walked away with a basket full of corn, I realised that what Pakistan needs most right now is hope.

The above photo is of a young man working in a building. He stopped to watch me with my camera then, momentarily, his gaze and expression changed. What was he thinking I asked myself?