By: Reyan Shahrazad
Have you wondered why all the lessons to be learned are for women mostly?
After all they are the ones, who in case of a moral slip might be stoned by bigger rocks. Or the size, for once does not matter? I mean aren’t both men and women entitled to the same punishment for immorality, as per the Islamic law?
Time and again it has been practiced otherwise in our society. For every moral or legal issue, the price is always higher to be borne by the female. For example, if a woman finds out her husband has been having an affair or multiple such interactions, what must she do? The most common responses to this by well wishers are:
- Sabr se kaam lo.
- Mard hotay he esay hain.
- Waqti ghubar hay beth jae ga meanwhile tum ye wazifa karo.
- Bachon ka socho.
- In case you have daughters: Kal ko in se shadi kaun kare ga? Log kahein ge inki maa talaq yafta hay!
Blah blah blah BLAH and some more blah.
So here I was expecting my third daughter, when I discovered my husband (ex for the past 17 years now) had been having an affair with a 1st year student.
My older daughters were five and a half and four at that time. This discovery for any woman is devastating; more so I guess when you are carrying that man’s child. I was just destroyed. The world around me was collapsing. The weight in my belly seemed heavier than the skies above me. The sadness, the insult, the pain; it was all too much. My girls, who were very close to their father could sense my anguish but could not understand it. I mean how could they? They were so little, so unaware of life’s tragedies, bitter truths and men’s selfish nature.
It has been nearly two decades now but I still remember the night I had to spend in Dar ul Aman.
The reason: my then husband who had kicked me out of our house along with our three daughters suddenly decided to file a case of Habeus Corpus after sending a notice for Restitution of Conjugal Rights. Had he conveniently forgotten he was the one who had been fooling around and to top that had walked out on his family, 7 years and 3 children later? I was left with no choice but to return to my widowed mother in another city along with his kids; the same ones he had not bothered to be a father to, when they needed him the most.
Yet, just a month after my unceremonious return to my hometown I was rudely jolted to the reality of our flawed judicial system. Which is, even if it’s the man who kicks his wife and children out of the house, he may later appear with a dozen policemen and bailiff to ‘recover’ his minor girls. Now, any woman who is a mother would know, if anyone tries to rip your child away from you, you retaliate. In my case it was screaming, crying myself hoarse, locking myself in along with my girls and refusing to come out. Meanwhile the policeman and bailiff who had entered our house, categorically refused to leave till the girls were handed over to them. My mother and I were the only ones in the house while my brother was at work. It was pure chaos and beyond our understanding, why were we the subject of this assault on our integrity and respect? While the one who should have been held accountable for his actions, was being protected by the law.
What did I do to deserve this humiliation?
A husband who cheats on his wife then forces her to leave along with their three daughters refusing any financial support whatsoever, where else was she supposed to go?
He had packed his bags a month ago and told me before leaving, to do the same, unless my brother transferred my inheritance share to his account or got me a house where I could live along with my daughters. Handing over my late father’s hard earned money to facilitate a womanizer just to save my marriage did not appeal to me. My in-laws knew my brother and mother had come to talk and try to resolve this matter amicably. However, they chose to side with their son and refused to sit together and discuss anything.
Now, out of spite; Restitution of Conjugal Rights & Habeas Corpus cases were filed against me. This legal terminology was new to me as was having so many policemen at our place. I was glad my father was not alive to see this. Locked inside my room I just prayed that my diabetic mother wouldn’t faint or my brother doesn’t lose his temper at this highly insulting incident. For any respectable family, a crowd gathered outside one’s home because you have policemen and bailiff inside your house is something unforgivable. Miraculously, somehow my family managed to get a stay order for me and my girls to go to Dar ul Aman till my court hearing, which was the next day at 9 a.m.
I was cajoled into unlocking the room. It was the strangest sight. In every room I could see men in police uniforms while a guy in shalwar qammez was talking to my mother.
My brother’s expression, I can never forget. I had not seen him like this even at my father’s funeral.
The memory of that day though etched in my mind seems like a slow motion movie, where I am gathering things for my now 5 month old daughter while my older daughters are looking all confused and worried at what was going on. Why were we locked inside for so many hours and now why was mommy telling them to get ready. And why on earth were so many policemen in our house. I had no answer for them. It was an out of body experience; a robotic existence, where I was just mechanically gathering things to stay in Dar ul Aman. How could that be real? What would I tell my girls once we step out of the house and they see their father amid a crowd of strangers and police.
Yet, I did walk out with my head held high, holding my infant daughter in my lap and my scared little girls on either side of me. My brother was next to me as was my mother. We had to go to the nearest police station first. It was indeed a day of firsts.
I remember a policeman sat in front in the car, next to my brother’s driver, while we were taken to Dar ul Aman.
My brother was driving the other car in which my mother was sitting. Both of them were trying to act strong for me but I knew what my estranged husband had done had destroyed any chance of reconciliation, ever. This man cared about no one. How, the people in our neighborhood pleaded with him to not let this happen, to stop his daughters from going through this turmoil. In a brief moment where I caught a glimpse of this man’s face who was a father to my children; there was pure evil in his victorious smile. So, this is the price you pay for not bowing to a man’s right to stray.
Yes, that night at Dar ul Aman taught me a lesson of a lifetime: The laws here are of men, by men and for men.
Dar ul Aman was more like a hell hole which I was lucky enough to have been resident to, just for a night. Yes, it saved my daughters from being taken from me without a hearing but it is a place I pray no one has to stay for long.
The next day, the court ruled in my favor since a father cannot have custody of minor girls. Our lawyer suggested that unless there was a chance of reconciliation, I should file for khula since now that my husband had started the litigation process I would have to appear in the city where my husband was living. So began the long process of cases like habeas corpus, restitution of conjugal rights and finally dissolution of marriage. It was nerve wrecking going to the court, hearing your name called out loud along with your father’s name. The looks, the stares, the judgment. It is not easy I tell you, not easy at all. I had to appear in the other city’s court twice. The first time I went with my youngest daughter who was just 7 months old and the next time the judge told me to bring the other two of my daughters. The air fare, the stay; all was on me. That my friends, is the beauty of this whole system. The victim is treated like an aggressor.
Yet, I bore it all and you know how much my ex, who was a Rtd. Major with agricultural land in his name, was asked to pay as maintenance for his three minor girls; till the age of maturity? Rupees two thousand per month!
In the West, alimony and child support if not paid, is punishable however in Pakistan even if there is a law binding a father to pay child support, there is simply no proper system to implement it.
Our society has very different standards for men vs women. And any woman who dares to challenge them should be ready to pay the price. So, if your self-worth is not tied to being associated with someone who does not value or respect you but does give you a label, then set yourself free.
Seventeen years down the road, the girls are grown up now. One graduated from a top university, now working at a very good organization. The other in her final year of university and the infant is now an A levels student.
Was it easy? Hell No. Was it worth it? Totally.
About the author: Reyan is still a believer.
