Guest Post by Aisha Sarwari
“This is why I am not in favor of working women.” Said the Colonel and security in-charge of one of Lahore’s largest office blocks. “Excuse me?” I said.
Before I could unleash my monologue on the tirade of women’s mobility, I am interrupted by the drama unfolding in the Colonel’s office where two security guards, a police man, a fellow plaza worker and the culprit who “teased” me shift uncomfortably in their chairs.
A few moments ago, I was walking up the stairs from the parking lot, late for a board meeting, shoving my car keys in my ancient purse, while two men who appeared to have camaraderie with each other were coming down. As they passed me, the uglier guy with glasses greeted me with strange familiarity and boldness.
I was used to the whistling, the smirks, the humming of latest Bollywood songs or even a religious proclamation of how great God is. But this sort of thing, however, had me stop and take notice. I asked for a clarification from him, and he went on to make generally trivial chit-chat about his friend giving me a call later.
Understanding full well that chauvinists thrive on women’s passivity, I learned to give in to my indignity and forgo the fight of telling random men off. Sometimes even when I want to fight back, their timing is too perfect and their precision that of a seasoned actor on Broadaway. Before I can feel the stab of inferiority and their power to communicate a stark message, they are gone, under the folds of a society that is so sickly South Asian. Everyday it is a battle, but I trivialize the over-sexualization of a partially segregated society whose religion rests on a mother/whore dichotomy. It’s nothing, I say, not worth it. But the truth is its very bloody and it wounds me each time and it leaves its mark every time it happens.
So this time, I fought back. I called for two guards who were directing traffic in the underground basement. New at their job, they refused to budge because they didn’t have “orders” to move from the spot that both of them were designated on to stand. I couldn’t believe it. This was no time for bureaucracy. Exasperated, but still somewhat in control, I let the guys flea, but I went to give the wannabe pedestal guards a piece of my mind. I could hear myself becoming a whiny powerless nagging woman. I hated it, but what could I do? I had to ask them why the hell they didn’t come when I called them, a total idiot just got away.
By then enough men, old men, young men, men with family values, men who believe women need protection and those who just wanted to watch a show from the other side had gathered to catch the “honor-less” folk. They asked me to identify the person. I found myself increasingly being part of a large Victorian drama — Damsels in Distress. I hated this too.
So due to cleaver James Bond action the men caught one of the guys who tried to get away. There was some motorbike skidding involved. Eventually the guy removes his helmet. I ask him if he was the person whose friend was attempting to be entertaining. He said yes and I proceeded to ask him why he was laughing about it and didn’t tell his friend to take a break. At which he became a local Punjabi Sultan Rahi and stopped short of beating his baboon chest, mouth foaming action and all. He asked me who the hell I was to tell him anything, that I should shut up and know my place. I went ahead and told him to talk in English after he learned the language, and also that I was now going to make him regret what he just did.
Thanks to his daring proximity the thought of slapping him did come to mind, but why should I lie, I was scared of him. Taken by the nerve to be so aggressive toward me in front of a crowd of armed guards, I didn’t want to test which of the genders has a knack for violence, it was a well discovered territory for all women.
I took a deep breath and called for Mr. Pathan, the chief security guard who in the true sense of the word was a guard. He arrived on the scene with his 3 inch by 6 inch mustache folded towards the edges in a circle loop. Once he arrived, he grabbed the lad with his neck asked the rest of his supervisors to take care of the bike while he walked briskly toward the Colonel’s office, asked the girl to follow. Once he discovered the girl was me (He thinks I am Syed), he broke into a fit of ass-whopping of the lad, where he asserted who exactly possessed the lion’s mane and where he was in the food chain. This was his territory and there was some order here. The kicking, shoving and slaps continued two floors up via the car slopes and into the office.
I greeted the colonel who was kind enough to keep a reserved parking space for me for the past few months, “because I was a woman” after a couple of vandalism incidents with my car. We sat down and I narrated what happened. The fellow plaza worker talked about what he saw. When I gave my version, I knew I could never explain the concept of “perceived threat” and how much that can terrify a person. It is the unsaid rule that if you dare to report, or take action it’ll be marked as a protest against the status quo and there will be retaliation, and the last word won’t be yours.
The Colonel said that it is hard for these guys to differentiate between the “type” of women they see. Some women hold men’s hand in the parking lot. What he meant to say was, this was a simple case of miscalculation. You lady, are a married woman, with kids, I know your boss, your husband and so via the men associated with you, you deserve respect and I’ll punish these men accordingly.
Already the guy, thanks to Mr. Pathan’s mighty blows was a lamb, apologizing profusely after he heard the police man suggest jail, where he’d eventually call in his friend and settle the score. I asked him to define what he was sorry for, and it was quiet clear he was sorry about landing in the crap that he found himself in, not for the harm caused to me. The fellow plaza office worker, though harsh with the guy, was ultimately asking me to forgive and let him go. Men, after all have to protect other men, it was harmless, understandably a misjudgment that should not get you in so much trouble for. You can get into trouble for theft, murder and burglary but this is just a woman.
The Colonel asked me. What do you want to do?
Men oppress women because that’s how it is. Its more natural for a woman to clean shoes apparently than it is for a man, that is in women’s nature, the cooking, cleaning and the menial tasks the surround child rearing, as well as the overwhelmingly huge ones that need emotional strength of an elephant, business intelligence of a working woman and those that require spiritual stability and nurturing forgiveness. All this time, no one asked us what we want to do.
Colonel Saab, I want him and his friend to know, that sometimes you can pick on the wrong woman, a pissed off one. Can you do that please? I asked him.
He placed his cigar on the ashtray and sighed.
Artwork by Abro.
I salute your courage Miss Ayehsa Sarwari, I had earlier discussed with Adil about the possibility of writing an article on eve-teasing for ATP but I chickened out mainly because of the kind of responses I have seen above. Nothing, nothing, it seems can change the mentality of the men in our country. All attempts seem so futile and yet we as women have to soldier on. The only thing I feel I CAN do is to at least somehow influence my own son positively and hope that he turns out to be a decent human being.
Having said that it is extremely heartening to see people like your husband YLH and a few others who seem to be so different from the stream, they give one renewed hope, faith and belief that decency still prevails in some corner of our country even if it is minute and almost invisible.
Lahori,
People drag in the West because in their eyes this makes Pakistan better comparatively. Even though, in practical terms what they are saying is just an out and out falsehood, as anybody who is a woman and who has lived both in Pakistan and the West knows from her own experiences, provided she is not in purdah. In other words, people are using these stats and numbers for the purpose of lying, and they should hang their heads in shame.
Some people here are very open about their desire to see women go back into purdah. Some in Pakistan have these days gone even further, they don’t just want purdah even–they want to bring back the haram, the separate women’s part of the house which the women can’t leave except at point of death, and men can’t enter. Lovely world they envision. As I said before, I would kill myself before I would face life in such imprisonment.
I guess this is part of the “Pakistan at war with itself” that Adil speaks so eloquently about. Some perceive it as a choice between “following” the West or bringing back this maltreatment of women and the helpless as an authentic cultural identity (I hope not!). Others speak of bringing back some golden time in their own imaginations when Islam was “pure”, that is observed in a more true way than at present, and women were treated equally in medieval, tribal Arabia! I don’t believe such a time ever existed. However if Muslims want to make that a future reality that would be wonderful. But to do so they are going to have to get beyond this false choice of, it’s either the West or going back to medieval Islam. Is there nothing else? In the 21st century have we learned nothing and do we have no other choices? Really?
The kind of thinking reflects a failure of imagination, which the rest of us don’t have to buy into.
@Lahori
No.
but the problem is some enlightened (darkened in my opinion) folks are trying to make the rest of the majority follow western culture. true or not? then that majority has a right to know what comes in the pakage as a whole. simple.
@akif
If you are so willing to accept ‘only’ official numbers then you must be ready to accept official pakistani numbers on women conditions? No? or as the custom here goes and take the route of dupilicity as usual. lol
By the way did you read these stats in the link I gave? do they mean anything to you?
A 2002 study of students in the 8th through the 11th grade by the American Association of University Women (AAUW) revealed that 83% of girls have been sexually harassed, and 78% of boys have been sexually harassed. [6]In their 2006 study on sexual harassment at colleges and universities, the AAUW reported that 62% of female college students and 61% of male college students report having been sexually harassed at their university, with 80% of the reported harassment being peer-to-peer. Fifty-one percent of male college students admit to sexually harassing someone in college, with 22% admitting to harassing someone often or occasionally.
“provide your own stats? ”
Adnaan, I don’t need to. A careful read of Jabir’s statement would reveal that there is only one “official” number in there; that is, the number is complaints brought to EEOC each year. The rest are just wild guesses and surveys which can easily be manipulated to show the desired results. There is a whole industry of such pollsters who design the surveys around loaded questions, so they can statistically arrive at a pre-determined desired result.
Now let’s get back to the official number: 15,000 complaints per year; that’s 15,000 cases out of a female workforce of roughly 70-80 million. That means that one out of every 5,000 women file complaints against their peers in the US. And that’s in a litigious, sexually open (relatively) society where lines are very fine most of the time between courtship and harassment.