published by Newline April 2000
Profile
Against All Odds
- By Mehnaz Akber
From being an abused wife and unwanted daughter, Mariam Bibi rose to being a role model for women as head of a Frontier-based NGO that is striving to improve the status of women in a conservative society.
Despite receiving the 'Nishan-e-Imtiaz' for public service and being nominated a member of the Commission on the Status of Women, Mariam Bibi remains what she always was � a simple chaddar-clad Pathan woman dedicated to changing the status of women in the NWFP. Her vehicle for change is Khewendo-Kor (Home for Sisters), a broad-based NGO in the NWFP, known nationally and internationally for its efforts to improve the image and profile of women. Mariam Bibi manages a staff of over 70 people at Khewendo Kor, as well as three regional offices in the most conservative area of Pakistan.
Today Mariam Bibi is held up as a role model for women in her area. It is difficult to imagine that when she was born 45 years ago in Janni Khel, a village in Bannu, her birth as an unwanted third daughter was mourned by the whole village. Her mother writhed in pain as she was left alone on the floor of the mud adobe room to mourn her third daughter. Her wails for water and help remained unanswered till a few hours later when she gave birth to a twin son. The mourning quickly changed to the gunfire of celebration. It was only at the end of the day that someone thought of the baby girl who lay in the corner, to check whether she was still alive. "My resilience to survive was created that day by God," says Mariam Bibi.
Despite being born into a conservative tribal household, Mariam Bibi and her five sisters received a proper education. They had their father, who served the British Raj, to thank for this. Surprisingly, it was Mariam Bibi's mother who opposed the daughters' education but their father's insistence saw little Mariam go through school and then on to college where she got a BA degree.
At the age of 19, Mariam's life changed when she was promised in marriage to her paternal first cousin. A lively, vivacious Mariam looked forward to all the trappings of marriage: the pretty clothes, jewellery and most of all, independence. When her brother-in-law joked with her on the mad ways of her groom to be, she joined in the laughter fantasising about how she would spend her days laughing with the 'Khan Bahadur's son'. Her dreams were soon to be shattered. On the day of the wedding, instead of the traditional salaami, the new bride received medicines for her groom's mental illness and instructions never to demand anything of him. Mariam Bibi recalls how she intuitively knew that day that she faced a hard life ahead. Consistently subjected to violent beatings by her husband, she was refused comfort and shelter in her father's home. "I saw the look change in my father's eye from being a gentle person to the tribal Pathan living for his izzat," says Mariam Bibi. In her new home, Mariam was treated scarcely better than a servant by the entire household.
A born survivor, Mariam Bibi resorted to many failed business ventures desperately trying to make a life for herself. Today, she laughs as she recalls how she bought a rickshaw with borrowed money, but was cheated of all the earnings by her driver as she was confined to the four walls of her home. A second attempt was a buffalo shipped in from Faisalabad, which got sick and was taken over by the local milkman who in return, provided Mariam Bibi's household free milk for four years. The third and last attempt was a knitting machine which never worked. Then Mariam Bibi decided to start a tuition centre for children at home, but the neighbours protested because of the noise. She then took the bold step of venturing out of the char deewari and into the public arena by accepting a teaching job in Peshawar.
Her decision shook all the men of the household and her father and brothers, who otherwise ignored her miserable existence, threatened to kill her if she did not back down. She clearly remembers being told by her father: "Lead a quiet life and consider yourself a dead woman with no aspirations." Confined to the house, she looked out at the world through the crevices in the boundary wall and found her inspiration: a washer-woman who walked daily to the river with a huge load of laundry on her head and at sundown walked back tired, but with a look of satisfaction on her face. That woman was to be Mariam Bibi's role model as she continued her struggle.
The atmosphere in the household eased when her sister, who had qualified as a lady doctor from the Fatima Jinnah Medical college in Lahore, returned home. She was instantly accepted as a professional and given due respect. Pressure eased on Mariam Bibi's attempts to take charge of her life. She joined the All Pakistan Women's Association (APWA) in 1987, where she worked as a councillor for family planning. It was a relief to earn a monthly salary of 1200 rupees which she saved to indulge her four children. In 1989, she applied for a field job in a German agency, GTZ, working for Afghan refugee women. Based on her hard work, she was promoted in just six months, first to field supervisor and then to director of the energy and environment programmes. Mariam Bibi was advised to set up her own NGO by a German professional who had come to appraise the program on its completion in 1992. "I laughed at the proposition," recalls Mariam Bibi. However, later, on GTZ's insistence and the insistence of her female colleagues who were losing their jobs, she gave it serious thought. Khewendo Kor began in her garage in 1993 with a staff of three women and a loan from GTZ. With a 40,000 rupee loan from her mother, together with her own savings of 20,000 rupees, Mariam Bibi began work on a need-based development initiative for the women of NWFP.
When she speaks of her long struggle, Mariam Bibi barely mentions her husband. Her marriage was, and still remains, the most painful chapter of her life. Shutting out the pain, she remained focused on her struggle. Parallel to her commitment to achieve her goal, ran a deep desire to be accepted by her family and society. Being married to a schizophrenic, a misfit in the company of other housewives content to talk of jewellery, travel, building houses etc, Mariam tried various means to win their acceptance. "I tried socialising with women in the neighbourhood, but the scorn was unbearable," she remembers. Later, when she started working outside her home, she continued her struggle for recognition as a "clean working woman as opposed to a cheap woman out to have a good time." To this day Mariam Bibi remains apprehensive about how she is perceived by her children and her family.
Despite all her achievements she continues to work and live within the parameters of a conservative social code. Mariam Bibi still resides with her in-laws, even though her husband died of cancer last year. Her four children, fortunately, escaped the hardship and trauma their mother faced. The eldest daughter, 26-year-old Aleema is happily married in Rawalpindi; her second child, Farid did his Masters from Quaid-e-Azam University, Islamabad and teaches in a government college, while the two youngest twins, Faiqa and Asad, are still studying.
A woman who has never been driven by ambition, Mariam Bibi is deeply spiritual. She has a strong conviction in God and believes that external forces guided the direction her life has taken. "Nothing is in my hands, it is God's will. It is like a programme on television. Any programme you see has many producers and directors working in the background. I never really planned for anything to happen," says Mariam Bibi. Religion, which gives her spiritual strength today, was anything but a source of solace in the early years of her marriage. The family used religion to confine her to the home. She was told that it was the role of the man to earn and the woman to remain subordinate and in purdah at home. She was convinced that religion was being used against her and started to educate herself on what Islam actually prescribed on the role and status of women. What she learnt strengthened her inner self and created a strong belief that she should do something for humanity.
At 45, Mariam Bibi is very aware of the limitations of her age. Describing herself as a slow learner, Mariam Bibi finds herself most productive at an age that society considers close to retirement. She drew seven lines on the wall of her room, each line depicting a decade of her life. Crossing out the first four lines, she thought deeply of the remaining three lines and how her life could be made more productive. A woman who mastered the skills of communicating in English in her forties, she is still hungry for knowledge. "I have just learnt computer skills and feel very empowered," says Mariam Bibi proudly.
Life has just begun to unfold for Mariam Bibi and her struggle and commitment have helped create different avenues and options for the empowerment of tribal women in the NWFP. In a society where women are only given respect if they hold positions of authority in an accepted profession, Mariam Bibi maintains that her current status is due to publicity rather than her work. "Today Mariam is something because her name appears at national forums," says she. "Take it away and again I would be just another woman."
Khewendo Kor is now known in far-flung villages for its integrated programmes for women. It has strictly need-based programmes for girls education, micro-enterprise development, and primary healthcare for women. The organisation, which started in a garage with a budget of 200,000 rupees per year, has now grown to three regional offices and a monthly budget of 500,000 rupees. Many international donor groups have also extended financial as well as technical support to Khewendo Kor, which now runs 50 schools in the area and has a current enrolment of 1700 girls.
The organisation works on empowerment processes and provides women a forum through village-based women's groups. "We are encouraging women to contest in the forthcoming local bodies elections too," says Mariam. Khewendo Kor's impact on the changing attitudes in the communities it is working in is evident from a recent incident in Dir where certain religious parties tried to stop the organisation's work for female literacy. Despite open hostility and threats by the mullahs, it was the parents of the students who fought for the NGO to continue. "Our work can only become meaningful when the people themselves take charge, especially the women," insists Mariam Bibi.
A woman who has battled criticism on both personal and professional levels, Mariam wants to expand work options for older women who get even less support from their families. She wants to give something back to her tribal area by starting a scholarship programme for girls. Not content with what she has achieved, Mariam Bibi is constantly studying ways to improve the organisation and make Khewendo Kor a model organisation working towards improving the status of women in the Frontier.
