Raising a British-Pakistani feminist — a promise to my newborn nephew
My beloved M,
It has been four surreal weeks since you crash-landed on this obscure planet, forever changing the otherwise bland canvas of our lives.
We were five before your mummy met your daddy; five funny, passionate, largely damaged and mostly well-intentioned humans, trying to ride out the waves of life. Then your daddy arrived and we were six.
Your daddy is a good man. He is kind, funny and fiercely loyal. Your daddy is Pakistani. He was born and raised there, just like your grandparents and great-grandparents. You were born here in England, like your mummy and I. That shouldn’t really mean much, but it does.
You see, you’ve arrived on Earth at a time when humans are obsessed with one particular question: “where do you come from?” Of course it doesn’t really make much sense, because wherever we all “come from”, we all end up here on this very planet. Where we come from specifically has been somewhat pre-ordained by some powerful assholes, who years ago drew some lines on a map and sealed everyone’s fate (that special formula of power and men usually produces assholes).
So, on paper, you come from two places: England and Pakistan. You will be raised with two cultures, two languages and by two parents, who although share similar values, will often have two very different perspectives. Society, education and opportunity have all played an equal part in establishing those perspectives, but so has culture.
Like everything, both cultures carry their fair share of flaws. You are a boy, so your mere existence means you will enjoy the privilege of blind ignorance to those flaws should you want to (many of your counterparts do). How so? Well, because you’re a boy, both cultures consider you superior to women in one way or another.
Just this week in Pakistan, a man with a bruised ego poured acid over a woman who turned down his proposal. He warned her that if he couldn’t “have her”, no one could. Attacks of this nature are growing in Pakistan, with 160 cases reported last year alone. On the Western hemisphere, which lavishly flaunts its image as “progressive”, cuts were made to domestic violence services despite the fact that on average, two women in the UK are killed every week by a current or former partner.
I’m painting a rather bleak view of the world considering you’re only tiny. But the truth is, my love, the onus is on you to change things. I hope and pray that the love and support we surround you with prevails over everything horrid that can tarnish your view of the world. But mostly, I pray that you become a loyal and unwavering friend to womankind.
Injustices are many. But this is the only one I can tell you that you are directly responsible for. That seems unfair and unjust in itself, but when you consider that your gender continues to be paid more than women for the same job in most industries; that part of your culture perpetuates an alarming number of forced marriages and so-called “honour” killings of women and girls; that only 1 in 4 of this country’s political representatives are women; and that at the current rate, it will take 150 years before there are an equal number of women in your local councils than there are men — when you consider just that, my darling, you can understand why you are directly responsible for changing this.
Should life run its natural course, by the time you are grown, I will be taking my leave of this world. But my sincere hope is that when I do, the example I set for you; that your mother and grandmother set for you, builds the foundation upon which you stand shoulder to shoulder with every woman in your life, and prepare for daily battle each time misogyny rears its ugly head. For it will and often, too.
I hope you actively challenge every man you encounter who tells you he’s looking for a “good girl” to marry; who tells you the way a woman dresses tells you everything you need to know about her character; who belittles a woman who is torn between raising and providing for her family; who considers a woman’s opinion on this or that “irrelevant”; who tells you that a woman’s rightful place is here or there.
I, like many women and girls, have heard all of the above and more, brazenly spoken — sadly, most of it by men we are related to. You will not be one of them. You will be the man who knows that the words ‘laundry’ and ‘cooking’ are not synonymous with ‘woman’ or ‘wife’; the man who uses his privilege to lift up those who are silenced; the man who encourages fairness and equality on all accounts, even if that means he himself suffers a loss.
Don’t get me wrong — you will not be anyone’s saviour. You will simply be doing your duty as a thinking, feeling human being, who will not tolerate inequality. Here on Earth, we call such people feminists.
With love always,
Mimi
