A decade on, as Nisha Rao remembers the journey, she cannot help but feel vindicated. "I had left behind my family and the comforts of my home to travel to an unknown place," she recalls. "It was the toughest decision of my life, but I knew I had to come to Karachi." She longed to see the waves and feel the soft beach sand under her feet. She believed it held all the answers - that it would end the conflict that had raged between her body and her soul for as long as she could remember.
Yasmeen Lari - the woman who taught Pakistan how to build for the poor
You see, Nisha Rao is a transgender woman. Born a boy, she didn't feel like her ordained sex was who she truly was. So she decided to find her own identity.
This is not uncommon, albeit quite a taboo subject in our society. When a child is born, their sex is determined on the basis of their biology - chromosomes, anatomy and hormones. Sometimes, the person's inner sense of gender doesn't identify with their biology.
Nisha Rao was announced to the world as a boy. He was given a boy's name, which she has asked not be revealed, so we will go with the pseudonym 'KS' for that part of his life. This is how she lived for some time of her life. That is until she decided to adopt the gender she identified with. As we attempt to tell Nisha's story, you will notice a shift in the usage of language to identify her gender. The shift would be reflective of her identity at the time in her life.
A child's quest for answers
KS was the third-born, of five children, to a middle class family in Lahore. As such, he was naturally drawn to his two elder sisters and spent more time with them compared to his younger brothers.
By the time he was in grade V, KS knew he wasn't like the other boys in his class. His peers sensed it too and nicknamed him 'Sharmeeli'. With time, the taunts and jeers grew worse.
Initially, his parents ignored the 'differences', but when they noticed more manifestations of feminine behaviour, they took their young son to all kinds of spiritiual healers and shrines, seeking treatment. Nisha's father, an engineer by profession, was strict yet caring. He wouldn't let him go out alone, for fear of his young son becoming the victim of some predator.
Coming to terms
It wasn't until he reached college that KS realised what had troubled him for so long. "I found someone who I could connect with," she reminisces. "Someone who thought just like me and taught me there were others like us."
With this understanding came hope. The young man realised there were two paths ahead. One was to quietly spend his life in the role society had ordained for him. The second was tougher and more perilous. KS chose the latter.
Armed with a purpose, the young man asked his parents for permission to travel to Karachi. He wanted to see the beach, he said. The answer was a resounding no.
But KS wouldn't be held back any longer. He approached his eldest sister for help. The sister sold off her earrings and gave him Rs1,400. KS hid the money away and started planning the trip. Some days later, he slipped out of home and took the first train to Karachi.
Nisha's friend from college, who she also asked not to identify, had been to the port city once and was herself a transgender woman. She introduced Nisha to the transgender community at Hijrat Colony after they reached Karachi. Nisha started living with the community and got attached to a guru -a figurehead of a transgender persons' group.
Hard times
The following year was the toughest of Nisha's life. Until now, she had lived a protected life, cared for by parents who loved her and siblings who would go out of their way for her. In Karachi, she had to fend for herself.
For a time, she took to begging in the streets, much like others in the community. It crushed her soul - the looks of disdain and snide remarks that she received on a daily basis as she roamed the streets.
She was constantly hungry and would often fall sick. At one point, she was even deprived of all her belongings when some boys entered her room in City Colony and robbed her.
At the same time though, Nisha saw kindness. Where people snubbed her, others treated her with respect. Where the police were a constant source of fear, she drew support from the small transgender community around her.
In 2011, Nisha visited Lahore to see her family. Her father restrained her from leaving the house too much, pleading with her to abandon her new life. But Nisha wouldn't budge and he finally had to back down. "All he asked of me was to never bring disgrace to the family," she says. "But their support was unconditional," she adds.
Survival instinct
Amid all this, a friend advised her to resume her studies if she wanted to better her circumstances. She cleared her intermediate exams and subsequently got enrolled into the BA programme at the Karachi University, where she appeared privately for the exams. "I waited for the examination to start before going into the hall and tried to leave the hall before it officially ended," she recalls. She did not want to be harassed.
During this time, she had befriended Advocate Mudassir Iqbal, who encouraged her to pursue higher studies. He instilled confidence in her and pushed her to enroll in a law programme.
In 2015, Nisha enrolled in the SM Law College and started participating in various advocacy events. She became associated with various NGOs, sometimes as a volunteer and sometimes as a legal adviser. She also became a vociferous advocate for the rights of transgender persons.
Her stints with NGOs provided Nisha with a reasonable income - enough to improve her living standards. She moved into a better apartment and started concentrating on her studies more. She also started giving private tuitions to children from the surrounding areas to supplement her income from her advocacy work.
Helping hands
"At every point in my life, there were always some good people who tried to help me in their own way," she smiles.
There was the SM Law College's former principle, Mustafa Ali Mahesar, who helped and guided Nisha in her studies and also gave her private coaching in International Law. Anis Haroon, a member of the National Commission for Human Rights and women's rights activist Nuzhat Sheerin were always there to guide her. Then there was artist Salma Agha, who bought her books in the first year of her LLB programme.
What lies ahead
Nisha appeared for the final exams in January 2019 and is now waiting for the results, which are expected in April. "My life's aim now is to fight for the rights of my community and the LLB degree is the first step," she says.
But Nisha's advocacy work started some years ago. From facing police personnel who have detained members of the community to getting bails for members facing cases, Nisha has helped scores of transgender persons stuck on the wrong side of the law through no fault of their own. "The ultimate destination for me is to become a judge," says Nisha. "The Constitution of Pakistan provides security for the life and property of every citizen, including transgender persons," she explains. Nisha wants to see the law implemented.
Struggle for identity
For Nisha, her entire life has been a struggle for identity - a struggle that she doesn't want other to go through. "All my academic and other identification documents bear my male name given to me by my parents," she laments. "Ultimately, that is what lies at the core if the issue - identity, for which we leave our homes, city and family," she adds.
Nisha wants transgender persons to be able to identify with the name and gender of their choosing on their identity documents.
She believes such changes are needed and must be brought about through legislation. Nisha is impressed with Pak Sarzameen Party Chairman Mustafa Kamal, Pakistan Peoples Party leader Saeed Ghani and social activist Jibran Nasir and also wishes to join politics herself.
"But if I do contest the elections, I will do so as an independent candidate," she says. This is because none of the parties' manifestos contained even a single line for transgender rights.
For now, however, Nisha is concentrating on her advocacy work and her education. She plans to set up her practice in Karachi, which she claims she is madly in love with. "I have spent the worst and best days of my life on the roads of this city," she exclaims. "It has given me a whole lot of hate, but an even greater amount of love and respect."
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