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Aina J. Khan | عینا جبین خان

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@ainajkhan

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International correspondent (soon South Asia) Part-time mango 🥭 and knaffeh critic

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www.ainajkhan.com open.substack.com/pub/ainajkhan/p/freelance-journalism-is-like-zip?utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web gofund.me/bd5d24793

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#samneill #australia #alicesprings #afghancameleer #journalism #aotearoa #newzealand #mining #indigenousland #britishblackberries

Recent posts

My maternal great-grandmother died in 1975. No photos. No physical objects. Just stories about a woman whose goftay meatball dish brought many eager guests to my late Bibi’s (grandmother) childhood home in Waisa, north Pakistan. So imagine my surprise when I returned to my Bibi’s ancestral home, this time without her, to discover for the first time an old chest of drawers that belonged to an elder I never knew. A woman called Hākam-Jaan, my great-grandmother. The late @drmayaangelou talked once about bringing your ancestors with you in every space you step into. As a journalist of Pashtun Pakistani heritage, I’m often the only brown face in a sea of white when I’m walking through the world of mainstream journalism. I often think about the women ancestors I bring with me, mothers and matriarchs like my Bibi and great-grandmother, whose DNA I carry, and whose DNA my children will carry too someday. I’m going to try and restore these chest of drawers. If you can recommend anyone in Pakistan, and if you know what kind of design it is that’s been painted on them, please let me know! 💚🙏🏼 04 May 2026

I read about the lone grave of an Afghan cameleer called Goolam Rasool, a man who has the same first name as my grandfather, who died in 1930 and was buried far from the local cemetery, completely by himself. Who was he? Why was he buried by himself? These are questions that floated into my mind as I sat by his graveside after searching for it on two visits, and found it thanks to my friend @erikahamilton_. And there were no clues in the news articles published by @ntnews_ which I read online. I did eventually find out why Rasool was buried by himself thanks to the help of a 102-year-old British Australian journalist and author. Keep your eyes peeled for the next episode. What was really lovely is that the people living around his grave - because it’s literally wedged between a playground, a golf course, and some houses, maintain and take care of the grave. #Australia #AliceSprings #AfghanCameleer #Journalism 17 May 2026

Why is actor Sam Neill (@SamNeillTheProp) supporting local activists in New Zealand to stop a gold mine being dug into a mountain? w/ @ainajkhan #Aotearoa #NewZealand #Mining #IndigenousLand #SamNeill 06 Jul 2026

Autumn in Hunza. It’s been quite the year. I lost a dear friend this year, I had the privilege of travelling, wandering, reflecting, and meeting so many wonderful souls including Sam Neill before he died, I had my heart broken, and I saw a dear adopted sister get married. Joy and grief. Joy and grief. I’m constantly pivoting between these two emotions. Autumn is a reminder of death, of a period of rest and hibernation. Being in Hunza reminded me of that. Of the necessity of letting things die, and letting go. 🍂 07 Nov 2026

Today would have been our friend Sasha’s (@al_sasha) birthday. 🥀 I thought I’d celebrate by sharing this video of the @universityofbradford giving Sasha an honorary Doctorate of Health on June 2 just before she died on June 19, surrounded by her family and friends. Sasha was a consummate multi-hyphenate. She devoured books, building a beautiful library-sanctuary in her loft. She was a cat lover. A beloved daughter, sister, wife, and friend, and a proud Kashmiri. She was a mental health campaigner. She worked across local communities for over 20 years, tending to the wellbeing of people forgotten by social and welfare cuts and a diminishing NHS. Sasha was also one of the most intelligent women I’ve met. She had several degrees under her belt, but she never used her knowledge, life experience or insight, to puff her chest out and make herself the largest person in the room, or to make others feel small. Sasha was so proud of this honorary doctorate, she proudly sent a video of her receiving her doctorate certificate in bed as she lay dying, to our friendship group (one of her many sister groups) on WhatsApp. The words of Therese Patten, chief executive of Bradford District Care NHS Foundation Trust in this video, captured just a snapshot of who Sasha was and what legacy she left through her service on this earth: “Her greatest achievement was never the titles she held, but the lives she touched, and the hope that she bought to many people.” May Allah cradle Sasha’s soul in his love, light, and mercy. We miss her everyday. Happy birthday, Sasha. 💚 26 Aug 2026

It’s blackberry season in the UK. (Why is there no blackberry emoji?! 🍓🫐 🖤) Blackberries have erupted from the thorny bramble in the family garden, so I read up about them on @gardenersworldmag and learned that it’s blackberry season from August through to early October. According to ancient folklore, if you pick blackberries after September 29, you’ll be spat on by witches or Lucifer himself. 😈 The journalist in me is admittedly curious to test this out, but that date also coincides with when blackberries get a little bit too ripe. I’ve taken the safe option and picked them now. I love that I can do this instead of buying blackberries from a supermarket that may have been imported from another country. Anyway, once these have been washed with some water and bicarbonate of soda (thanks mum for the advice) these are going onto my porridge (thank fellow blackberry lover @lorna.isabel for the inspiration 💚). #BritishBlackberries #WildBlackberries #BlackBerries #SummerBerryHigh 22 Aug 2026

Zareena Parveen (on my right) was around 12-years-old when Pakistan was born on August 14, 1947. In the time that I knew her as my adopted sister Kainat’s “Naani-Jee” or grandmother, she became an adopted grandmother to me too. Over the years, Naani-Jee indulged me with her memories of sitting on her father’s shoulders as she saw Jinnah, Gandhi and Nehru - men I only read about in history books - in the flesh. And I would listen in awe. She remembered seeing pieces of gold glistening, gifted to her grandfather and father by their boss, the Maharaja Ranjit Singh. She remembered her many siblings and her mother who were massacred in the haveli they lived in in what is now India. She told me about the dried chickpeas and dirty water she survived on in a camp in Pakistan, after she miraculously hid in a pile of corpses and was saved by a Sikh soldier whose family I pray are blessed by his heroic actions that day. He pulled Naani-Jee out, fed her with the food from his own tiffin, and made sure she was safe as she stepped across the border into what is now Pakistan. Naani-Jee had an uncanny photographic memory, and I was honoured to interview her for The Guardian back in 2022 on a story about Partition survivors. She and I would always lovingly argue about my horrific Urdu (it’s still a work in progress). “But you’re Pakistani!”, she would shout at me. “Yes, but I’m Pukhtun and I grew up in London!” I would shoot back. We never agreed on my multi-hyphenate identity and language identity crisis. The generation who survived and remember Partition are dying or have died. Naani-jee has already joined her creator. On this Independence Day, I can’t help but think about the titanic oral histories, the knowledge, the love, the grief, and the memories we are losing, when we lose elders like Naani-jee. I want to tell her I’ll be moving to Pakistan soon. I know she will be cackling with glee, gloating about the fact that maybe finally, finally?! my Urdu might (linguistically speaking) put on a few pounds. If you’re blessed to still have your elders around you, record their stories. They are irreplaceable archives. 💚 🇵🇰 14 Aug 2026

Chapter 35. Alhamdulillah. 💚 What a joy and a blessing it is to be alive, to have this privilege of sinking my teeth into life - in all its bitterness and sweetness - in ways the women in my family who came before me never had the privilege of doing so. A beautiful day well spent feasting on croissants, carrying the most glorious flowers through Paris, and celebrating life: courtesy of my Turkish, Kanak and New Caledonian sisters. 💚 🇹🇷 🇳🇨 06 Aug 2026

Snapshots from an olive harvest in Tunisia. 🫒 🇹🇳 📸 When I was in Sousse, Tunisia, for the first time, I witnessed an olive harvest. A shower of fresh olives pitter-pattering to the ground from branches pregnant with small olives, as women combed through the branches with strong swipes using a kind of small rake: I couldn’t stop laughing with child-like joy as the olives fell to the ground. Olives released from the prison of jars screwed tightly shut, it was beautiful to see olives growing and falling from the beginning of the supply chain instead of its monotonous end. From late autumn through to the new year, it’s olive harvesting season in Tunisia. Tunisian women powerhouses like @sorayahosni and @douaroliveoil are showcasing Tunisia’s olive oil prowess by creating organic olive oil in Tunisia, produced by Tunisians. Seeing those olive trees in Sousse, it was impossible not to think about the olive trees of Palestine, a thread of connection between Tunisians and Palestinians. Every Palestinian I’ve met claims their village produces the most divine organic olive oil. I wonder what would happen if you placed Palestinian and Tunisian olive oil makers into the same room. I would love to see that debate erupt! 💚 🇵🇸 🇹🇳 Thank you to the @thenewmedina for such a wonderful experience. More to come on this story once I get round to finally putting a video story together. The song in the background is from a Palestinian olive harvest. @dalal.abuamneh is singing in Arabic a variation of a Palestinian folk song sung during olive harvests. #Tunisia #Olives #Palestine #OliveOil 01 Aug 2026

Sam Neill died today. I interviewed @samneilltheprop on March 20 for @guardian and @ajplus. It’s an experience I won’t forget. And it’s surreal that my interview with him is the last story on his Instagram grid before the news was announced. It’s a story about a gold-mine that could be fast tracked through a controversial policy introduced by the coalition government, and it’s only 5km from land he loved and tended to for 30 years. Man of the land. Man of The People. And a man of wine and the arts. What a human being we lost. I thought I’d share some thoughts on meeting him. RIP Sam Neill, and my condolences to all who loved him. #SamNeill (I’m about to board a flight so please excuse my dishevelled appearance. Correction: I met Sam on March 20, not April 20!) 13 Jul 2026

I travelled to The Gambia because of an instrument. The kora. Have you ever heard of it? And I reconnected with @sonajobarteh, a British Gambian kora master and educationalist who I first interviewed for the @nytimes 5 years ago. I’m now recording a podcast for @moremuslimshow. So keep your eyes (and your ears) peeled! 🇬🇲 (Excuse the cap line on my forehead folks. This is why I’m not destined to be a sleek influencer. 💔) 12 Jul 2026

Gunjur Sand Mosque in The Gambia, July 2026. 🕌 📿 11 Jul 2026

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shortcode	caption	likes	comments
DX7GwbAIvD2	My maternal great-grandmother died in 1975. No p…
DYcF4a_oa0r	I read about the lone grave of an Afghan camelee…
DadV7hwMbKY	Why is actor Sam Neill (@SamNeillTheProp) suppor…

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up to 8,106 accounts

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username	full_name	user_id	is_verified	is_private	profile_pic_url

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Every post & reel

316 posts & reels

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Caption, likes, comments, views, duration, mentions, co-authors and sponsored status for every post and reel.

See a sample

shortcode	caption	likes	comments
DX7GwbAIvD2	My maternal great-grandmother died in 1975. No p…
DYcF4a_oa0r	I read about the lone grave of an Afghan camelee…
DadV7hwMbKY	Why is actor Sam Neill (@SamNeillTheProp) suppor…

Real rows from this account. The file continues in the same shape.

Everyone who follows them

up to 47,239 followers

$236.20

Handle, full name, ID, and verified/private flags for each follower.

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username	full_name	user_id	is_verified	is_private	profile_pic_url

These are the columns. We can't show live rows: Instagram serves no follower or following list to a logged-out client, so we hold none until you order.

Everyone they follow

up to 8,106 accounts

$40.53

Every account this one follows, same fields.

See the columns

username	full_name	user_id	is_verified	is_private	profile_pic_url

These are the columns. We can't show live rows: Instagram serves no follower or following list to a logged-out client, so we hold none until you order.

You only pay for rows we deliver. Counts are the maximum available today; if an export comes back smaller, the difference is refunded automatically. Counts as last collected 1 day, 10 hours ago.