I stare at her email, and wonder, if this modern life, and if this “big job” really does make me happy and satisfied. I miss that feeling of going back home and falling asleep knowing that I have done something meaningful in my own small way. I, live in a fast paced world- climbing up the career ladder, and rising up to the challenge of being a successful, responsible, self-made woman.

In this world today, we are constantly under pressure, to get a grand degree, or even a PHD, and a big job, and be ‘someone’ in our lifetime. Essentially, our world today defines us as ‘someone’ or as an ‘individual’ in terms of jobs that we have, the degrees that we hold, the papers that we publish, the stilettos that we walk on, the big cheques that we pay for a great meal and us being social in this modern setting.

So, it all does boil down to one aspect of our lives- you are who you are because of the tangible and glitzy things you have acquired in life- career, money, social status.

We constantly live under this pressure- to be someone, to be famous, to be rich, to be cool. We are constantly struggling to rise to this challenge, and in the process, a part of ourselves is lost. In this whole process of living by the rules, adhering to the do’s and don’ts, we find ourselves losing out on our aspirations- dreams and emotions that really, truly define us as individuals.

My strength in character, now seems to come from how strongly I present myself regarding my job, rather than the values and experiences of my life that has defined me as an individual. They do not seem to matter much in the grand scheme of things anymore. Tell the world about your fancy social life, and the restaurants you like, and the glitzy things you have- thats what they will love the most. More often than that, I find people being more comfortable to the idea of just simple stories of people’s lives, than their darker experiences.

I am a good child today, because I have made everyone proud, with a fancy economics degree, and a fancy job as an analyst and a ticket to the international community. It is a new world I live in, most often than not, it is an illusion because none of this will really last forever, but who cares? It is comforting. and very few of us, want to deviate away from that comfort zone and challenge the rules.

Noam Chomsky, once said something really powerful about illusions and comfort. He said, ‘If we choose, we can live in a world of comforting illusion.’ The reason why I say, it is powerful is because in this context of this modern world, we do find comfort in things that glitter, things that shine, but that are not really gold.

In the process of going by the rules of this new beautiful world, we also begin to discard anything that is not pleasing to the eye. Take the example of Dhaka traffic- when you sit in the car stuck for hours, how many times, have you looked at or even recognized the existence of the beggars in the street? Sometimes we pay a penny and wave our hands and signal to leave, and others just wave our hands and ask them to move away from the bloody window.

And it is worth wondering if everything really is an illusion to some degree that can not be avoided? Does our perception become distorted as we age? Does that mean that we create illusions by “filling in the gaps of missing information” with our learned perceptions? Is it simply easier and more convenient to just see things that makes us feel comfortable because the alternative (reality) is less pleasing?

All these youth were different in there own ways with extremely diverse backgrounds. Some studied Environmental Management, some, Economics, some Computer Engineering, some Journalism and Mass Communication and some Literature or Law. They speak different languages, different dialects, in different ways. Some are passionate about science, and others about art.

They have different tastes too, mind you. Some like shopping till they drop, and some like sight seeing. Some are into books and philosophy, some into music and some into photography. They look at life differently and live differently. Some believe in the peace of finding calm and quite within themselves to lead life. some find solace in finding little things in life beautiful and making the best out of it.

They all work on projects and programs, relating to environment and climate change. Their designs are different, so are their models. They have lots of ideas, and energy.

How do you bring them under the same roof, how do you get them to agree on the same goal, vision, and action plan for the South Asian youth?

This was the challenge for SAYCAN- to bring all these youth to explore and agree on common goals and aspirations and make them draw the road map for the network. There is a always a fear for these attempts to turn into talk shops, to deviate into something completely different.

Lets face it. Climate Change movements have been extremely challenging. Following last year’s BIG failure at COP 15, challenges seem to take a greater toll.

Many articles continue to suggest different pictures of this big game- some say it is time to give up, the political order of liberal democracy is just incapable of rising to this challenge. Others, continue to believe that the world’s biggest polluters will not bend and the rest bring in new models to combat climate change. Stephen Hawking being the man of physics, suggests that mankind should colonise distant planets. James Lovelock thinks the remnants of humanity will seek refuge on the tropical shores of the Arctic.

Moving to the scientists, some suggest climate change does not exist to begin with and other scientific data now strongly suggests that physical and biological changes in the planet are increasingly greater than those defined by the modelling in the most recent Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report. Despite the steadily rising levels of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, even countries expressing commitment are having little impact compared to the huge task in hand.

Governments continue to fight, focusing on the monetary values than trying to just solve the issue first. Everything is being calculated. Survival of people is being negotiated. It is all about the money. It is all about mandates. It is all about negotiation.

In the middle of this, you have youth movements striving everyday to fight for this cause. You can tell, that some of these passionate people would one day give up and just walk away, instead of watching the whole climate debate go no where. After all, isn’t that the only way to not hurt?

I myself, could not help, but wonder what it was that had brought some 20 of us together to fight for a cause that is under so much criticism and how we would agree on anything by the end of it all. More often than not, all around us, passion seems to seep away and leave behind just uncertainties and insecurities. This cause has the same potential.

Then, why, despite all questions, have all these youth come together for this conference? Why spend so many hours, all day long brainstorming, planning and designing action plans to tackle climate change in our own little ways? Our governments do not recognize our strength and we are never a part of the policies that run our lives. Then why bother?

Some of these people have stayed up nights to make this possible, run around from one funding organization to the other, in hope of organizing a conference for youth. Some have skipped their biggest events, some have paid out of their own savings, just to be here. together.

It was during the first night at the beach that I stared at the distant endless ocean, waves slapping against the hot sand of the beach, while I felt my feet burrowing into the deeper depths of the cool sand. I wondered, why I was here? Why all these people were here? why so many of these youth were working so hard in their own country for this cause?

I could not help but think of this Greek myth.

Greek myths never failed to fascinate me. Somehow, I seem to have had the greatest fascination of all towards the Greek mythology since God knows when. Staring at the beach, the story of Pandora’s Box came to my mind so many times.

According to Greek myth, Pandora was the first woman on earth created by the Greek Gods. She was stunning and she was created by Zeus to take revenge on mankind. It is said that the Gods would give her gifts. Each one of them. Which is why her name meant ‘the bearer of gifts’. Pandora was given a beautiful box by the Gods and asked never to open it. Pandora, however, could not resist herself and had finally opened the box, which let out all the misdeeds, diseases, hatred, greed, jealousy, pain and sufferings in the world.

Pandora shocked and guilty, had closed the box as soon as possible to ensure nothing else came out of that box to destroy the world. Zeus wanted Pandora to open this box, so she could bring sufferings into this world. It is said that this story explains the world we live in today- the world where we are consumed by jealousy, anger, selfishness, hatred, greed and many more.

However, the myth also suggests, the box was closed and there was still something left there, and that was Hope.

Greek myths never explained further as to why hope was left in the box- if hope should be taken in absolute sense or narrow sense. There have been millions of interpretations of this myth since then. Archaic and classic Greek literature went further to explain the concept of hope. One thing that came out of the mythographers was that hope was not gone. Hope was inside that box, intact, to ensure that mankind has the ability to live through all the odds that life has stored for us.

True or not, personally, I have believed this version of the story- that hope is intact and will keep us going come what may. I would have died, had I not seen a glimpse of hope in my life. In the worst times of my life, hope pulled me through. Every morning that I wake up, I wake up with hope, as though it is a part of me, a part of who I am and the sheer reason for my survival.

And I realised, it is hope, too, that brought all these South Asian Youth Together, to ‘enthuse, engage and empower’ in the middle of all the stories of Climate Change and failure.

For us youth, science or economics is not the basis for negotiation of our survival. True, there may be big failures, and true, there may not be any end to this long debate and our efforts may never be recognized. True, negotiations may never come to an agreement.

But, it is hope that keeps us going. Everywhere. Everyday. And we continue to work, together, in our little ways with that one thing that keeps us together- and that is hope. for better days to come.

I often wonder if it is possible to change the reasons for happiness in our lives, over a period of time. I often wonder if I would ever be able to not care for her the way I did. the way I do. I wonder, if I let go, if I step back since there does not seem to be any other choice, would she know? Would she know just how much I loved her? Would she know I did everything I could just make her happy?

As a fifteen-year-old, having her in my arms was like having a baby doll that I would never let go of. Then time passed, and life changed forever. We went through losses, we went through breakdowns. My immediate instinct was to protect her. hold her as close as possible, protect her like a mother bird protecting her chicks in a forest. I reached a point where if there was a choice between her life and mine, I would gladly, without even thinking for a second give up mine. Saving her, protecting her and making sure her every dream comes true became a mission, before I even realised.

When the madness would continue, I would in secret make plans to run away with her, run away with my baby. In secret, I would dream of a happy life where she would grow up with me, and we would be together forever. I began to think myself to be a mother. So ten years on, and now I realise that I never gave birth to her, I was never her “mother” by name, nor did she ever know I was, I never did have any right to decide for her, to protect her from everything and to take her away from everything.

Ten years, and on, I was just a silent guardian, trying to win over a heart, trying to protect her innocence and her happiness, working away to ensure her life is perfect. I have now reached a point, where I either cut the chord once and for all, and continue to help her silently or fight to stay close and keep getting hurt, until this madness drives me crazy and I will have no more in me to care.

I look at her, I stare at her through out the very few times i get to see her, and try to understand, try to question if she knows me, if she knows what she means to me. On our last brief meeting, I ask her, ‘What did they tell you? Please don’t believe them, please do know I am here, no matter what.’ Like a grown up, she tries to shift the topic and says, ‘look at your bangles!’. I notice how she refuses to look me in the eye. I ask her one more time, and say, ‘Do you not understand what is going on? Do you not understand they are using you against me?’ and she looks up and says, ‘I feel bad for you,’ and runs away since she is being called.

I cry. I throw my arms up in the air like a helpless child and cry. There is not enough tears I can cry. There is not enough grieving to let go of my grief or my loss. I cry, I shout, I beg for something fair.

I close my eyes. I breathe. I search for some form of comfort, some form of support, something that would make me feel better. that would take away this feeling from inside me. but I realise that the time has come to cut the chord.

It is time to cut the umbilical cord. Yet, I want to hold on, I want to cling on to her, even though I can’t.

The knowledge that you have a spent what almost seems like a lifetime, on worrying about others, making everyone else happy, in an attempt to be happy, is hard. You reach a point where you turn around, and take one good look at the years that you spent, not for yourself, but mostly for others. you wonder what it would have been like, to live, just for yourself, for your own dreams, for your own wishes.

There is just so much trapped inside you. Behind that five inch smile, set as default, there is just so much to tell. You want to scream out loud. you want to go against the so-called rules, the norms, the responsibilities.

You stand still, and you wonder, deep inside, if there is a chance for revisions, for turning around, for changing decisions. you think harder, each time. and your mind plays with you. you battle with yourself constantly. over and over again. until the silence takes over you.

Those who have lived through the war of independence in 1971, speak of it with tears of pride and inexplicable melancholy. Often, they struggle to fight back tears and find words that would perhaps justify the depths of the movement- the depth of the extraordinary power, resilence and belief of the people.

More often than not, they say, words fail to do justice- to the desperation, to the strength, to the struggles, the desperate cries, the haunting memories, the images, the bloodsheds and more.

True, words fail to justify even the bloodiest war of the twentieth century. And more often, words seem to die and with that a part of history seems to fade. So has the history of 1971 in so many ways. Even though the war stands till date as the worst genocide of World War II era – the number of deaths being well into seven figures, outstripping Rwanda (800,000 killed) and probably surpassing even Indonesia (1 million to 1.5 million killed in 1965-66), it remains to be a largely unacknowledged event in the history of the world.

The larger part of the world population seem to have very little knowledge and awareness concerning the campaign of violence on the part of the Pakistani army as the Bengali people of the then East Pakistan sought to achieve political sovereignty.

Thirty seven years on, the war remains to be a contested issue- those who had seen the war continue to fight to pass on the true stories to the next generation and at the same time fight between emotional and psychological intensity that the war left within them.

In the past 37 years, so much has been written, so much told, yet it is felt that none of it could bring to the life the true images of the war, none of it could justify what this people’s war meant.

Yet, amidst these, photographs speak the tale of the war that time may have forgotten. It is also true that war photographs remain to be powerful in history- because of the intensity – both emotional and physical that it portrays, but also perhaps the photographs of 1971 stand out for several other reasons. More than anything else, the photographers seem to stand out for the one fact that it was the people’s war- not the armies- but people- farmers, villagers, man, woman and child.

This month as an exhibition titled ‘Bangladesh 1971’ takes place at the Rivington Place public gallery in Shoreditch, East London, they retell the tale of the war visually, bringing back painful memories to Bangladeshis and leaving others in awe. These photographs of the war taken in 1971 bring to life the very images of the beginning of a dream- the movement of people and the birth of Bangladesh.

In this exhibition, most were amateur photographers at that time, men who just happened to hold a camera when they found themselves caught up in the war. For almost two decades, Shahidul Alam – director of the Drik, the photography Library in Dhaka and a curator of the current exhibition along with Mark Sealy, director of photographic agency Autograph ABP – went beyond the struggle to justify the war with words and collected these photos, visiting the photographers in their homes and saving their negatives.

These images taken by these accidental archivists, 37 years later have gone on to become an intimate, reflexive portrait of the war, ranging from photographs that are well known to others that have never been seen in public.

The exhibition consists of more than 100 images organised in loose chronology that begins with the first resistance of the Bengalis, to the Pakistani occupation. The exhibition portrays some powerful images. The spirit and resilience of 1969-70, when war was imminent is captured most powerfully by Rashid Talukdar’s image of a ten-year-old bare feet boy, leading a street march and shouting ecstatically and leading the group.

The collection includes many iconic images of war: Abdul Hamid Raihan’s image of two children staring into the distance, a carpet of missiles scattered at their feet; Mohammed Shafi’s portrait of a freedom fighter – a boy who could be from anywhere – reveals a young man’s fear despite his attempt at studied resolve. Other images depict the horror and the haunting night mares that many speak of till date.

On the night of December 14, knowing they were about to lose the war, the Pakistani army and its local paramilitary allies massacred the future doctors, teachers, lawyers, and writers of Bangladesh in an effort to cripple the new nation. The bodies were not found until after independence, when a mass grave was discovered in the city. The exhibition includes a powerful image of this massacre- a ghostlike face surrounded by submerged bricks and covered in a thin sheen of mud.

Bangladesh 1971 also showcases the many portraits of the slaughter. A photograph shows a uniformed man circled by a large crowd, stabbing a civilian with a bayonet; the caption tells us that it is not a Pakistani soldier but a Bengali one, attacking a local man who has collaborated with the army, is outstanding. According to reports, at Alam’s first exhibition of war photos in Bangladesh, the government had requested that he removed this image, in which the roles of victim and perpetrator are reversed. His refusal led to the exhibition being shown at a private gallery rather than at the National Museum.

It is here that Alam is most successful in bringing the untold tales of the war and the complexities of the many roles played. The exhibition in all, documents the political story, the landslide election victory of Sheikh Mujib, the betrayals by collaborators, the massacre of intellectuals two days before the surrender of the Pakistani forces – and at the same time it reveals other stories- some untold, some silent.

Walking out in the newly liberated town of Mymensingh, the photographer Naib Uddin Ahmed had come across woman who had been raped and tortured by the Pakistani army: his picture of a woman covering her face with her hair bears witness to the contradictory state policy regarding such women and the powerful image seems to speak louder than words.

Another powerful image that showcases women’s struggle and their actions in the war is the image of women preparing for battle prior to the crackdown of March 25, 1971. The exhibition includes many more photographs- idyllic image of two women wading through a pond with a basket of flowers, carrying grenades covered with water hyacinth- show the strong role played by women. The countless images, a visual testament to the trauma and hope of independence.

Some of the photographers were also of actual freedom fighters, like Mohammad Shafi, whose diaries, buried underground and recovered after the war, are the only non-photographic artefacts on display. Alam characterises these Bangladeshi photographers as freedom fighters for the huge personal risks they took to preserve the only ‘physical documentation of this war’.

As Bangladesh 1971, a visual journey into the birth of Bangladesh brings to life the memories to many and awes the rest, thousands of miles away from home, in many ways at an important political time such as this, important questions once again appear and linger on- have we as a nation paid respect to those who fought for independence? Are we still fighting another fight?

http://www.newagebd.com/2008/apr/18/apr18/xtra_inner5.html

I gotta dig a hole to keep
to keep too many things
your box would probably not suffice
nor would your biggest suit case
there are way too many moments we gotta wrap up tonight
too many moments to pack and lock away my friend
You can Keep them all for me, just leave me a few good songs.

Exactly, there are too many moments
Should we start packing them all? or should I just leave them in the attic?
Too many moments – too many little things and big ones
and none at all
too many first times
Too many aches, and too many scars

Too many words too, would you not say?
Chew them, and your jaws will start to rust
Swallow them and they would be too much to take in

Where do we keep them?
How do we keep away?
keep away from memories
Keep away from lonliness
Keep away from the scars that remain?

There are too many voices, too many silent screams
screaming at you. you just left too many shades of blue
or may be black
clean your own part, clean that dirt
why leave too many on this floor?
Why would you not bother?

Clean this surface
Clean that attic of mine
pack those things lying around
pack up the smell too,
the rotten smell of the many bitter memories
pack the good ones too

Take everything, just leave me a few good songs though
for now. forever.
forever is too long to hold you by
but those good songs of you and I will suffice
would you not say?

I am digging deeper
lets bid farewell to the many moments
to the broken promises, disappointments, bitter memories
to that screaming silence and you?

Some days just pass too fast and I want there to be more hours in a day- to complete the neverending to-do lists, to breathe, to relax and ponder. and there are somedays like today, when i keep checking the time and it seems to stand still. Weekends are blissful most of the times. Except the Friday evening classes and make-up classes on saturdays and work that comes up once in a while.

In the past few months, I have been searching for answers, trying to figure out things- both about myself and others around me. Often, i lose track of time. of conversations. of patterns. I just phase out. my brain cells seem to shut down by evening, and i begin to ponder. at other days, i just keep thinking about 150 things at the same time. keep questioning, keep searching, keep exploring.

Sometimes, I just stand still and feel this would the moment that I would know the answers. to all those jumbled up puzzles and questions. but, that does not happen.

I am still searching. still trying to figure out the answers. there is no gurantee on anything. but i seem to seek gurantees, and assurance. not just for a specific time period, but for as long as i may be alive. that does not happen for products, does it? how would it happen to other things?

Two years later, she sits at a crowded restaurant joking about her friend who met the (fat) girl of his dreams at her wedding while the girl was dancing. The irony was that as we spoke of the (fat) dream girl, she was sitting at the other end of the restaurant with her friend. We keep our voices low and laugh about how the friend is still with this girl! ‘Yeah, how funny! My marriage fell apart just like that and look they are still together,’ she says laughing and looking away.

She does this a lot. Laughs it off as though it does not hurt anymore. as though she is immune to any kind of pain. i would not blame her if that was true though. she has had to swallow so much. its sometimes unbelievable. and at others, just scary.

This friend stayed in an abusive marriage for two years and did everything she could. But why? She is beautiful, educated, confident and eligible in every possible way. ‘It was a marriage. You just cannot walk away like that – there is the family and the society to answer.’

So, she did stay on in this marriage, with a man who married her as part of his obligations to his parents (yes, you can play with someone’s life just like that) and took her to the US and continued his relationship with his girlfriend, right before his wife’s eyes. and at the end, just kicked her out of his life, because he could not stand her voice, or her presence.

Did this man’s parents stand and say this was wrong?No, they didn’t. Why would they? They can blame it on her. Maybe she was not patient enough, or good enough, or perhaps too short, no? And our wonderful society followed their voice, and had a blast talking about her.

Her’s is not an isolated case sadly. There are so many more.  Just among a single group of friends, there are six divorcees i know. Tanu has been living through the worst nightmares ever. Five years on, she still sometimes struggles to fight back tears when she speaks of her abusive marriage and divorce. Ridita still swallows everything that the society has to say to her because she is a young, single mother. There is always someone or other, (even the closest people) who remind her she is “different” because it is her “fault” that she is divorced with a child at 26. Nadia is back in Dhaka and she is still dreading it- the society will not spare her at all.

Each of one of these women and countless others have a story to tell. There are those who speak of stories of abuse that they kept hiding for years, until it was enough. and there are these younger women, who are stepping out of marriages as they become nightmares. It takes a lot of courage. a lot of strength to start new. Even after these women pick up the pieces and try to move on, there are always people to pull them back.

The rate of divorces have certainly gone up- at least among the urban middle class families. Putting aside the fact that it is undesireable and indeed a painful experience to go through, it does indicate the fact that women/men are aware of their rights, and have the courage to walk out of marriages, instead of keeping silent forever in an unhappy marriage.

This group is clearly a minor group in the larger society that is still undergoing a transition. The growing numbers of divorce rates do indicate that the stigma associated with the word ’divorce’ is slowly starting to peel. Families are slowly being supportive, although the numbers are still very low.

Even if there is that family support, there is still the rest of the society that is up on their heels to talk. to analyize the situation. and start the blame game. and mind you, it is always and invariably the woman’s fault- She could have been patient, she was just a rude person, she was too fast, she had to many guy friends, she was just not goodlooking enugh, she needed to be able to know how to keep her man, she did not try enough, so big deal if the man was sleeping with someone? she could compromise for her family or her kids, how hard is it to stay?

Surprisingly, most people who do make these statements are women themselves. I do often wonder. When we do speak of women’s rights and liberation, and the inherent need for the men to realise that it is time for change, do we realise that there is a huge chunk of women who need to help these women too. If women are the once demeaning other women, where do you find the strength to carry on?

Look around you- at home, workplace, get togethers and any where, it is women who are often making other women’s lives miserable. This past week, one of my ‘so-called’ friend comes up to me and whispers about this friend who went through a terrible divorce. ‘She could have compromised a little, couldn’t she? She is a woman afterall. it’s a marriage for the love of God! Is she nuts? who is going to marry her?’

And this is coming from a so-called educated young woman, who presumably believes in equality and works in an international agency. really. my friend, yes she could have compromised just a bit more. really she could have kept silent and be unhappy for the rest of her life. but would you do the same, had you been in her shoes?

Perhaps not. or maybe you too, would have remained silent like countless others and not do justice to your own life.

*names mentioned here have been changed.

I have often considered being a regular blogger, write a post everyday, on anything random- on work, on the little somethings and nothing at all. One of the issues I faced, the very few times, I got around to start writing something was, do bloggers have a private space? Maybe yes, or maybe no.

A friend once, gave a very logical explaination- why write them on a blog, if you want them to be private? write a diary instead and keep it to yourself. But, maybe people do find peace or some form of consolation in writing about their trying days, about their challenges, about their never ending complaints or the like- maybe the idea of people, unknown and far away, reading and understanding, matters. Maybe, when the loved ones fail to understand, strangers do. I do not have the answers yet. But, I would like to give it try again.

My writings till date have been features, as the readers will note- mostly human rights, education and other issues,published in New Age, the National Newspaper, in Bangladesh. This blog started with the idea of posting my published work- stories that I had felt passionately about. Few years later, I moved to a consultancy firm, which I must admit was a tough call. I dreamt upto being a journalist- but that didn’t seem to be financially viable.

Like everyone else, I had to move on and like they say, sell my soul to the corporate world. Writing as a result, has taken a back seat. I do contribute occasionally, but there is nothing like staying up all night to meet weekly deadlines to file stories, or exploring around to unfold a story!

My friends, who have always said I am a wonderful writer and that I should never stop writing, also admitted that I only write well about thing I care about or feel passionately about.

To myself, writing has always been a space where I find myself. where I have found peace.

and that is a good enough reason to start over, wouldn’t you say? I have not done real time blogging, but here is a start.

photo by Al-Emrun Garjon

Like every year, this month we will be celebrating International Woman’s Day across the world. This is presumably the day when women on all continents, despite differences of class, ethnicity, culture and economy come together to celebrate their day. It is a day to reflect back to a tradition that represents at least nine decades of struggle for equality, justice, peace and development.

It is in this very month that once again the fact dawns that Women’s Day, in a country such as Bangladesh that is structured and characterised by patriarchy, is till date a singular attempt to recognise the fundamental right of a woman and the need for change in our inherent social norms that further isolate a woman from her right to protection, freedom and decision making.

Yet again, Bangladeshi women find themselves sifting through the tales of many movements, protests and struggles.

According to a recent survey report released by Ain O Salish Kendra (ASK), a human rights organisation based in Dhaka, violence against women claimed 518 lives across the country last year. Of the victims, 172 women were killed over dowry and 246 in domestic violence while 83 killed after rape. The list also includes 17 female domestic helps.

Besides that, 367 more women were raped and eight of them committed suicide during the one-year period. Two domestic helps also committed suicide. Twenty women fell victim to fatwas (religious edict).

The report points out that a total of 168 people were killed in shootouts with the law enforcers and 68 people died in the police and jail custody in 2008.

Add to this, according to a study undertaken by the International Centre for Diarrhoeal Diseases and Research, Bangladesh (ICDDR,B), about 60 per cent of women of reproductive age (15-49 years) have been physically or sexually abused during their lifetimes. The finding was based on a survey of over 3,130 women.

These statistics are sheer reflections of the struggles that Bangladeshi women face in several spheres. It is here, that important questions begin to appear. In a nation where violence against women is a major issue and where a large segment of the women fight for their basic minimum rights, let alone any other, one cannot help but wonder as to why the state does not step up. Why is the much talked about National Women’s Development Policy yet to be implemented?

‘We really need to have the policy implemented,’ says Ayesha Khanam, president, Mahila Parishad. ‘How much longer are we going to wait?’

In the election manifesto of the Awami League, there was great emphasis on working for women empowerment. The manifesto read, ‘In order to ensure women’s empowerment and equality in rights and opportunities, the Women Development Policy formulated by Awami League in 1997 will be revived. The number of reserved seats for women by direct election in the Parliament will be increased to 100. Necessary measures will be taken for appointment of women in senior posts in the administration and in all spheres of employment. Strictest legal measures will be taken to stop oppression of women. Discriminatory laws against the interest of women will be rectified.’

Over a month after AL has assumed its seat, we are yet to see any concrete steps being taken. This past month, several women’s right organisations including Bangladesh Mahila Parishad demanded the immediate implementation of the National Women’s Development Policy of 1997.

The policy needs to be implemented urgently and immediately and this should have been on the top of the present government’s mandate, say women activists. There is a reason for this sense of urgency.

In the past one decade, there has been the constant struggle of women rights groups to voice these very rights that are still confronted with the most medieval of customs, constraints and abuses. Although the movement has made great strides in several ways, in adopting a global perspective on women’s issues, and translating and adapting that perspective into ground level reality, they continue to struggle on certain issues. Despite all that has been achieved, gender parity is still a distant milepost, because of a specific, political, anti-women agenda of the day – which is narrow and regressive, say experts.

More importantly the sense of urgency comes due to the sheer challenge that has been seen in implementing this policy that has been due for over a decade now.

The long cycle

The National Women’s Development Policy in Bangladesh dates back to 1997, which was the result of long struggle of women’s movement in Bangladesh which indicated equal status and sharing of power for women in written document.

‘It was one of the major successes of our time, to introduce such a policy where major issues such as women’s reproductive rights and equal inheritance rights and more were included,’ points out Dipu Moni, foreign minister, also secretary, Women’s Affairs, Awami League and a lawyer and public health expert.

The original policy was formulated in 1997, following the United Nation’s Beijing Women’s Conference, directly involving activists and thinkers in the process. The policy adopted by the AL-led government in 1997 said that steps would be taken to provide women with ‘equal opportunities and share of resources, employment, market and businesses’. Underlining the importance of ‘economic empowerment of women’, the 1997 policy stressed their ‘full opportunity of owning and equal right over controlling property, earned through better health, education, training, lifelong education, vocational/technical training, information, employment opportunities, inheritance, resources, credit facilities and market management and their right to land’. The policy also stressed the need of ‘enacting fresh laws required to put these rights into practice’.

The 1997 policy had 104 principles, grouped into 14 areas of concern. While the policy was an eye-opener, and in several ways a landmark in the form of a written document, the government failed to implement it.

In May 2004, the BNP-led government’s policy, adopted the policy – almost a duplicate of the one adopted by the government of the Awami League in March 1997. ‘But while copying it, they deliberately changed, as well as dropped, certain words, phrases and paragraphs, making the policy document much worse, undermining some democratic responsibilities of the state to empower women, particularly in terms of ensuring equal political, economic and other material rights,’ says Ayesha.

In addition the 2004 policy adopted by the BNP-led government dropped the idea of providing women with ‘share of resources’, let alone equal share. Furthermore, the idea of women acquiring property through ‘inheritance’ on the one hand and the ‘right to land’ on the other was excluded.

The 1997 policy clearly valued the role of the women’s rights movement and NGOs. While sidetracking this issue, the new policy had also dropped the principle of inspiring these two groups of actors to take up campaigns for encouraging women’s participation in politics. On violence against women, the 1997 policy expressed concern about state or police violence and community edicts subjecting women to public lashing, stoning, even burning to death. The 2004 policy did away with all of this.

The 1997 policy also highlighted ‘induction of a significant number of women in the cabinet, the highest decision-making forum (of the government), under the relevant articles of the constitution, if necessary’. The 2004 policy diluted the need for inducting ‘a significant number of women’, particularly in the cabinet, by technically re-phrasing the sentence. It opted for induction of ‘a significant number of women’ in the decision-making bodies ‘at all levels’, ignoring the importance of the presence of more women in the cabinet.

Finally, last year, in 2008, the policy the military-controlled interim government tabled the National Women’s Development Policy (NWDP) 2008, but with that important questions were raised as to why the content of the policy had omissions and lacked clear and detailed issues that needed to be considered. Above that, the recent outrage of religious clerics and different Islamist radical groups, have given rise to suspicions of political machinations, say some women rights activists. The policy was attacked in processions and protests by a section of the Islamist groups. Several thousand activists of different Islamist outfits staged demonstrations protesting the policy and demanding its immediate withdrawal.

‘The policy brings to life some actions and beliefs of the state,’ points out Farida Akhter, a women’s rights activist and head of Nari Grantha Prabartana, a Dhaka-based NGO. ‘When we had protests on the streets by women, police chose to hit women and stop them. Yet when other groups, who are undoubtedly anti-women rights, came on the streets giving religious excuses in 2008, we saw the state defending itself, justifying its steps, giving explanations to anti-women rights groups. What does that reflect?’ she asks.

About time

Experts agree that the 1997 policy introduced by AL by far, among all the others introduced the best reflections of issues to be addressed. As the manifesto of the present government suggests, it is expected that the policy will be implemented. But at the same time, it is important to note that after 11 long years, the policy needs to have further progress in terms of empowerment in education, jobs and more. As the manifesto points out, seats for women would be increased to 100, indeed a laudable step, if implemented, given the decade-long fight of women for this significant political right.

Needless, to say that the challenge for the present government comes in several folds. For one, it is likely that given that the 1997 policy is followed without the omissions made, it is a test for this government to fight through the expected chaos and protests by religious groups – specifically in case of equal property rights.

‘Through this new law they want to teach us what we know and practice before them,’ said Mohammad Kamaruzzaman, assistant general secretary, Jamaat-e-Islami. ‘Is there equality between man and man in society? Some men are rich and some have nothing, so where is equality? The idea of equality is vague, what we can do is to reduce the existing difference between man and woman. This step has been against Islam and all of the recent actions show that politically the state wants to show that we are not for women’s right but the truth is Islam does ensure women’s rights.’

According to the constitution of Bangladesh, section 19, Equality of opportunity, sub clause 2, it is stated clearly that ‘The State shall adopt effective measures to remove social and economic inequality between man and man and to ensure the equitable distribution of wealth among citizens, and of opportunities in order to attain a uniform level of economic development throughout the Republic’.

The constitution clearly says any law inconsistent with the equality rights will become void. The government can discard religion-based personal laws. Instead it is regularly stated that discriminatory laws in inheritance, rights in marriage or divorce cannot be touched because that would hurt religious sentiments. ‘Personal values in religions are always applicable, but that does not mean that we cannot have a state policy that supports equality in all spheres,’ states Ayesha.

It is here that formulation of uniform family code becomes significant. ‘Women in different religions get different shares of properties – equal in some religions and less in others. Our demand was to formulate a uniform family code giving women equal rights. The issue was not made clear in the policy,’ said Sultana Kamal.

A Uniform Family Code is still a far cry, believe women activists, yet it is not impossible.

To challenge personal laws is to go against religion and challenge the constitution of Bangladesh, which declares Islam as the state religion, which will be the basis of all actions. While many Muslim countries have ratified CEDAW and included Uniform Family Code, it is yet to be widespread. With this government, it is hoped that that there will be the courage to break tradition.

The choices for this government remain quite clear. With over a decade of rule with two women as the head of the state, it is not too much to ask that the policy be taken a close look at, in the current context and implement what has been the right of women in Bangladesh.

http://www.newagebd.com/2009/mar/06/mar06/xtra_inner2.html