Do Meesha Shafi’s allegations hold no value just because Ali Zafar “looks like a decent guy”?
One in four men in Pakistan has harassed a woman. If they're supposedly not men like Ali, then where do they come...
Meesha Shafi accused Ali Zafar of sexual harassment, explicitly mentioning she faced ‘sexual harassment of a physical nature’.
I remember spending a whole day during school trying to convince my friend how good-looking this new singer was. She disagreed. But as an 11-year-old, I was very persistent, because not only was he good-looking, he was also ordinary. A boy who spent his days making portraits of others at a hotel lobby, who then suddenly went on to be known as Pakistan’s very own Kishore Kumar. But she still disagreed. So I convinced myself that since she was not a Pakistani, she knew little about the country’s beauty.
But that was 2003, and today is a different story.
Fifteen years later, Meesha Shafi accused Ali Zafar of sexual harassment, explicitly mentioning she faced ‘sexual harassment of a physical nature’.
In those words, she ruled out the possibility of what many would say ‘flirting gone wrong’, because as a nation deprived of a casual dating culture, we are naïve enough to believe flirting is anything but consensual. Within seconds of Shafi posting her statement on social media, all the Twitter-friendly educated class could talk about was the allegation.
A colleague of mine showed me Shafi’s tweet while commenting,
Perhaps releasing another song wouldn’t have done the trick. Another friend was genuinely shocked because Zafar looked like a ‘decent’ guy.
But here’s the thing about harassers, most look decent. Most belong to decent families, and as Zafar stated in his statement, they are all a son to a mother, a brother to a sister, a father to a daughter or a husband to a wife.
So why is it so hard to believe Zafar could harass?
One out of four women in Pakistan has faced harassment at some point in her life. Ninety per cent of women face harassment on public transport, with 82% at bus stops in the city of Lahore alone. Ninety per cent of the complaints made to the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA) on cyber harassment in first quarter of 2018 were by women.
This means one in four men in Pakistan has harassed a woman at some point in his life. Ninety per cent of our men harass women on public transport, and 82% at bus stops in the city of Lahore. Ninety per cent of the complaints were made against men for harassing women online this year alone. And one in four men means out of approximately 106 million men in Pakistan, roughly 26,612,330 are harassers. If they are supposedly not men like Zafar, then where do they come from?
On the other hand, people know where Shafi comes from. She is from the entertainment industry, and wears ‘indecent’ clothing, sits next to men, and also has a picture with her alleged harasser. So she can’t be harassed. A hug here and a touch there is ‘acceptable’ in her industry. Because she once shared a stage with her alleged harasser, she has no right to call him out now. And what should she be calling him out for – there is no harassment.
Zafar isn’t a harasser because his co-star Maya Ali saw him FaceTime with his wife and kids on a regular basis while shooting with him. Resham spent years working with him and was never harassed. The women in the room where the alleged incident took place didn’t see any discomfort on Shafi’s face, almost how the women who are ogled at on a daily basis reveal no discomfort.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BhwrZ5YHcG9/?utm_source=ig_embed
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bh1RGDNHbgq/?utm_source=ig_embed
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bh1Vvpbl-iU/?utm_source=ig_embed
Shafi doesn’t have the bruises to show. No proof or evidence. Just her word, against his.
Just like the words of every single woman I know who has been made to feel uncomfortable by a man. Every single one of them. Let that sink in, because if you pay attention and listen, every woman you know has stories. If that is easy to believe, why is it any harder to believe perhaps every man you know has made a woman feel uncomfortable at some point in his life?
The patriarchs of our families – fathers, brothers and husbands – often ask women they are related to to ‘stay safe’; some not letting them go out at a certain time or to a certain place because they don’t consider them to be an exception, irrespective of what they are wearing or where they are. They do fear these women can be harassed, so why are the ‘Alis’ in our lives the exception to the rule?
Harassment is a broad term – making a woman feel uncomfortable by ogling or eve teasing constitutes as harassment, and not every form of harassment necessarily has to be physical in nature. And Shafi allegedly experienced just that.
It takes a lot more than just acceptance to come out and talk about harassment you have faced – whether you are a man or a woman – let alone mentioning the name of your harasser even in closed quarters. Keeping aside the fear of ostracisation, analysing what has happened and accepting it takes time; sometimes even years.
Most women are quick to shun it away – like Shafi did the first time it happened. They repeatedly question themselves if it even happened, whether the man even meant it, or whether it was something they only ‘thought’ occurred. Our conditioning makes us give our harassers the benefit of the doubt – a privilege only men are allowed, because a woman is often ‘a person trying to malign a man’.
Apparently, there are reports that women have made allegations for their own benefit, and for Shafi, it was supposedly fame, publicity or attention. Only 2% of the reported cases are proven to be false accusations, and we love our 2%. So Shafi will just have to wait and trust the very due process put in place by privileged men to protect their own.
Once women are done questioning, analysing and accepting, more often than not they refuse to name their harasser or confront them. Because are men not violent? Have they not thrown acid, shot or raped women who dared to call them out? So if women were not an exception, then what should make them think they would be now? But Shafi thinks she is.
She called out that ‘creep’ in her life, the one almost every woman has. Lurking at her on streets; sitting too close for comfort in universities; touching her occasionally in offices; sending messages to her on social media, or living with her in her house.
That ‘creep’ – a word often downplaying harassment – is everywhere. In your mother’s life, in your sister’s life, in your wife’s life. So why can’t that creep (read: harasser) be your brother, father or husband? They are considered the exception to the rule, because those harassers are the ‘other’ men. Even though the victims are our very own, the harassers are not like Zafar. But then where do they come from?
As for that 11-year-old, today she stands with Shafi, because she knows how it feels when somebody’s body is violated without their consent.
But that was 2003, and today is a different story.
Fifteen years later, Meesha Shafi accused Ali Zafar of sexual harassment, explicitly mentioning she faced ‘sexual harassment of a physical nature’.
In those words, she ruled out the possibility of what many would say ‘flirting gone wrong’, because as a nation deprived of a casual dating culture, we are naïve enough to believe flirting is anything but consensual. Within seconds of Shafi posting her statement on social media, all the Twitter-friendly educated class could talk about was the allegation.
A colleague of mine showed me Shafi’s tweet while commenting,
“Well, I guess she needed the publicity.”
Perhaps releasing another song wouldn’t have done the trick. Another friend was genuinely shocked because Zafar looked like a ‘decent’ guy.
But here’s the thing about harassers, most look decent. Most belong to decent families, and as Zafar stated in his statement, they are all a son to a mother, a brother to a sister, a father to a daughter or a husband to a wife.
So why is it so hard to believe Zafar could harass?
One out of four women in Pakistan has faced harassment at some point in her life. Ninety per cent of women face harassment on public transport, with 82% at bus stops in the city of Lahore alone. Ninety per cent of the complaints made to the Federal Investigation Agency (FIA) on cyber harassment in first quarter of 2018 were by women.
This means one in four men in Pakistan has harassed a woman at some point in his life. Ninety per cent of our men harass women on public transport, and 82% at bus stops in the city of Lahore. Ninety per cent of the complaints were made against men for harassing women online this year alone. And one in four men means out of approximately 106 million men in Pakistan, roughly 26,612,330 are harassers. If they are supposedly not men like Zafar, then where do they come from?
On the other hand, people know where Shafi comes from. She is from the entertainment industry, and wears ‘indecent’ clothing, sits next to men, and also has a picture with her alleged harasser. So she can’t be harassed. A hug here and a touch there is ‘acceptable’ in her industry. Because she once shared a stage with her alleged harasser, she has no right to call him out now. And what should she be calling him out for – there is no harassment.
Zafar isn’t a harasser because his co-star Maya Ali saw him FaceTime with his wife and kids on a regular basis while shooting with him. Resham spent years working with him and was never harassed. The women in the room where the alleged incident took place didn’t see any discomfort on Shafi’s face, almost how the women who are ogled at on a daily basis reveal no discomfort.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BhwrZ5YHcG9/?utm_source=ig_embed
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bh1RGDNHbgq/?utm_source=ig_embed
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bh1Vvpbl-iU/?utm_source=ig_embed
Shafi doesn’t have the bruises to show. No proof or evidence. Just her word, against his.
Just like the words of every single woman I know who has been made to feel uncomfortable by a man. Every single one of them. Let that sink in, because if you pay attention and listen, every woman you know has stories. If that is easy to believe, why is it any harder to believe perhaps every man you know has made a woman feel uncomfortable at some point in his life?
The patriarchs of our families – fathers, brothers and husbands – often ask women they are related to to ‘stay safe’; some not letting them go out at a certain time or to a certain place because they don’t consider them to be an exception, irrespective of what they are wearing or where they are. They do fear these women can be harassed, so why are the ‘Alis’ in our lives the exception to the rule?
Harassment is a broad term – making a woman feel uncomfortable by ogling or eve teasing constitutes as harassment, and not every form of harassment necessarily has to be physical in nature. And Shafi allegedly experienced just that.
It takes a lot more than just acceptance to come out and talk about harassment you have faced – whether you are a man or a woman – let alone mentioning the name of your harasser even in closed quarters. Keeping aside the fear of ostracisation, analysing what has happened and accepting it takes time; sometimes even years.
Most women are quick to shun it away – like Shafi did the first time it happened. They repeatedly question themselves if it even happened, whether the man even meant it, or whether it was something they only ‘thought’ occurred. Our conditioning makes us give our harassers the benefit of the doubt – a privilege only men are allowed, because a woman is often ‘a person trying to malign a man’.
Apparently, there are reports that women have made allegations for their own benefit, and for Shafi, it was supposedly fame, publicity or attention. Only 2% of the reported cases are proven to be false accusations, and we love our 2%. So Shafi will just have to wait and trust the very due process put in place by privileged men to protect their own.
Once women are done questioning, analysing and accepting, more often than not they refuse to name their harasser or confront them. Because are men not violent? Have they not thrown acid, shot or raped women who dared to call them out? So if women were not an exception, then what should make them think they would be now? But Shafi thinks she is.
She called out that ‘creep’ in her life, the one almost every woman has. Lurking at her on streets; sitting too close for comfort in universities; touching her occasionally in offices; sending messages to her on social media, or living with her in her house.
That ‘creep’ – a word often downplaying harassment – is everywhere. In your mother’s life, in your sister’s life, in your wife’s life. So why can’t that creep (read: harasser) be your brother, father or husband? They are considered the exception to the rule, because those harassers are the ‘other’ men. Even though the victims are our very own, the harassers are not like Zafar. But then where do they come from?
As for that 11-year-old, today she stands with Shafi, because she knows how it feels when somebody’s body is violated without their consent.