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.
Farzana–read Mahrukh’s comment.
Burqa is no protection.
I wonder how it is that you think someone is an “idiot” for believing that it is wrong to abuse a woman regardless of her dress.
No dress is an invitation to abuse. It is up to the man to leave the woman in peace.
There is a project which collects pieces of clothing which women were wearing when they were sexually attacked and displays them. The point of this project is to show that most of the clothing items are modest and that sexual harrasment has nothing to do with what women wear.
For that matter, most women are attacked by friends and family members in their own homes so even keeping pardah is no protection!
If men want to attack women they will find some way to do it. It’s not the fault of women. Only the perpetrators can be held responsible.
Farazana, I think you heart is in the right place but you need to educate yourself a bit. Most street harrassment of women is most severe in those societies where women show the least of themselves. The more we accept the role of guilt and shame and hiding, the more the men will accept that all women are “fair game” and treat them accordingly.
I know exactly how you feel everyday. Everyday, I walk home half way and then take the public bus. During my time from when I leave the office and till I reach home, I get harrassed so much that it actually hurts. Last week, I threw a big rock at a man sitting in his air-conditioned car signaling me while I was standing at the bus stop. And you wouldn’t believe that when I leave work I am wearing a BIG HUGE MASI CHADDAR that covers me from head to knees. So can I ask is it just because they know I’m a woman?
I cry in my heart everyday and wish things could get better. I pray to Allah that nobody should have to feel this way.
I’m glad you took some action, eventhough the men in this country will always remain the same.
This is a sorry tale of every society – even the much touted free west where women are harassed by men. People say if real Islam comes to Pakistan, all ills will be quashed. But ever noticed “men of religion” stare women more than the others. Most of the working women are forced out of their economic poverty to work in an hostile environment.
Perhaps it will take decades when men in streets will not care much about presence of women – but till then working women too should take care in their attire and apparel which sometimes is very intriguing.
I think it is about time that all Pakistani women age50 and less should be given a stun gun/pepper spray on subsidized rates from the government. So that they don’t have to look at males to protect themselves from sexual harasment by other male. Take matters in your own hands.
Asslaam Alaikum All readers
I have go through some of the replies of this thread. I would say that these kind of encounters are not new in our society. I am agreed to the persons who think the media is a big part to bring the beast out of our men. What I see in the media is undoubtedly the reason behind our youth false doings. How often you see men abusing or saying bad words and doing some thing wrong on the streets to a woman who is completely covered or atleast observing a typical islamic outfit ?. I bet you coudn’t find one single case where men did these things to a woman or a girl who is in parda or burqa or wear a not so revealing dress. My teacher once said to me if you go outside revealing yourself , what you are saying to the boys is I am open come hit at me. I know this will ignite some of our so called feminist readers here but the divine truth is that if a woman leave the house (a secure place for her), she have to be ready for these kind of things. Thats why our prophet (saw) said to women, if you realy need to go out , dressup in a way that men think you are not a person who they can do something wrong with it. Today’s idiot feminist are like more idiot feminists in west who are saying its up to us what we wear, what we reveal, just don’t abuse us. Main sirf yeh kehna chahti hoon kay agar khawateen achi tarah apnay ap ko chupa kar or islami iqdaar ko maddenazar rakhtay hoye bahar niklain to kisi awara admi ki majal nahi kay un ko abuse karsakay ya kamazkam aisay incident un aurton kay sath kam hotay hain jo pardar hoti hain. Ek typical male yehi dekhta hai kay agar aurat fashionable/modern hai to ho sakta hai kay woh badkirdar bhi ho.