Wujuud-i Zan: The “man-els” take a seat

Women at Habib University challenge academia’s gendered norms, proving their scholarship isn’t just “adding color.”

On Friday, February 21, 2025, Habib University hosted Wujuud-i Zan, a one-day conference dedicated to celebrating and reflecting on the achievements of women in research, scholarship, and activism. 

Organized by Zahra Sabri, a lecturer of Comparative Humanities at Habib University who teaches Urdu literature and Indo-Islamic history, the event brought together academics, journalists, and artists from across Karachi to explore the multifaceted contributions of women in and beyond academia.

The conference featured a series of panels, including ‘Gender, Autonomy, and the Politics of Selfhood,’ ‘Migration, Space, and Memory in Karachi,’ and a book discussion on ‘TAPESTRY: Strands of Women’s Struggles Woven into the History of Pakistan.’ with pioneering and award winning Pakistani journalist Zubaida Mustafa. 

A day devoted to celebrating and reflecting on the hard-earned achievements of women scholars from various universities in Karachi, the conference featured presentations of diverse research alongside a roundtable discussion that delved into the lived experiences of women scholars across diverse fields.

I had the pleasure of attending the roundtable discussion titled ‘Women in Academia: Institutional Barriers, Epistemic Resistance, and Knowledge Production’, which allowed a space for the panelists to informally discuss the systemic challenges faced by women scholars and their strategies for navigating and overcoming obstacles in their respective fields. 

In her opening remarks, Zahra Sabri highlighted the systemic challenges that hinder female excellence in Pakistan. She noted that while women abroad often rise to the top of their fields in disciplines like the Humanities and STEM, the same is rarely true for women who have built their careers entirely within Pakistan. 

This disparity, she argued, stems from deeply rooted systemic barriers that make scholarly achievement one of the most difficult arenas for women to gain representation in.

Sabri reflected on the historical struggle for female literacy in Pakistan, a challenge that persists in many forms today, emphasizing the long years of dedication required to earn a PhD or a terminal degree in any field, compounded by the additional barriers women face even after achieving these qualifications. 

These obstacles, she explained, make it exceptionally rare for women in Pakistan to reach the highest ranks of academic recognition.

I often find myself in the audience of academic panels — i.e. "man-els" — where the disproportionate number of men onstage end up talking over their female colleagues. 

It makes you wonder: how aggressive does a woman need to be to snatch back the mic? And what would it feel like to be in the audience of a panel with only women on stage? 

There is an unfortunate tendency to assume that a woman’s presence at an academic conference is merely to fill a quota or "add colour and femininity," rather than to contribute substantively to the discourse. 

Wujuud-i Zan, Sabri asserted, aimed to genuinely celebrate women who excel in their work and was a deliberate effort to challenge such perceptions, honoring the intellectual rigor and achievements of women scholars in Karachi.

Drawn from Allama Iqbal’s famous sher, the title for the conference, which translates to “the existence of woman” or “the feminine”, plays on the narrow minded tendency of male-dominated poetic and academic discourse about women:

وجود زن سے ہے تصویر کائنات میں رنگ

اسی کے ساز سے ہے زندگی کا سوز دروں

(The existence of the feminine brings colour to the portrait of the universe

Hers is the lyre that sings warmth and feeling into this life) 

The popular interpretation of Iqbal’s sher often reduces women to the role of mothers of the nation—the bearers of the future, the life of households, and the providers of support, care, and colour. 

While these roles are important, they present a very narrow, reductive “portrait of the universe”. 

Women are not confined to certain fields like nursing or teaching “soft” subjects; their contributions span across all areas of knowledge and expertise. This conference was a powerful reminder that women’s scholarship belongs everywhere, not just in spaces traditionally deemed "feminine."

One of the key themes that emerged was thus the rejection of the notion that there is such a thing as a "women’s subject" or a "women’s area." Women’s scholarship cannot—and should not—be reduced to a narrow set of fields or topics. 

When asked what has empowered them throughout their careers, the panelists shared deeply personal insights.

Humaira Jamshed, professor at Habib University, spoke about the challenges and strength of balancing motherhood with her academic career. When she joined Habib University, one of her non-negotiable conditions was the availability of on-campus daycare for her daughters. Knowing her children were nearby was empowering, but it also came with its own set of challenges—like teaching while her daughter was just four months old. For her, the ability to integrate her roles as a mother and a scholar has been a source of strength, even as it demanded constant juggling.

Muneera Batool, professor at Habib University, shared her experience of teaching theatre, a field she finds deeply empowering yet often undervalued. She admitted that her knee-jerk reaction is to tell people she teaches digital media and design, as theatre is not always taken seriously. However, she emphasized how transformative theatre has been—both for her students, who find empowerment in expressing themselves, and for herself, as it has shaped who she is today.

Abira Ashfaq, lecturer at IBA, human rights activist and a legal educator, reflected on the power of the title "Professor." She explained how the term carries respect, authority, and an association with knowledge—qualities often reserved for men in academia. While she embraces being called an activist, a label she finds empowering, she noted that it is sometimes used derogatorily to sideline her from scholarly spaces. This duality, she argued, highlights the gendered biases that still permeate academic institutions.

Following this, Tajreen Midhat, lecturer at Habib University, brought attention to a sociological study by Joan Miller, which reveals how society often associates men with the title of "professor" and women with "teacher." Even when women hold the same qualifications, students tend to misattribute a higher level of education to male instructors. This bias, she noted, underscores the systemic challenges women face in being recognized as equals in academia.

Zahra Sabri spoke about the utmost respect and humility she holds for her teachers, emphasizing the importance of respecting their craft and viewing them as artists. Growing up, she didn’t focus much on gender, but as she progressed in her career, she became increasingly aware of it. Many of the top figures in her field were men, and while she approached learning from them in a gender-neutral way, she noted that she rarely encountered women who were at the top of her field. 

It wasn’t until she went abroad for higher studies that she finally had the opportunity to be mentored by women who were leaders in their disciplines. This experience was transformative. For the first time, she realized the profound difference of being mentored by someone she could empathize with at every level—someone she could imagine mirroring and becoming like. 

With male mentors, she explained, many dynamics were different because she couldn’t envision herself mirroring them in the same way, highlighting the formality that often existed even in the ustaadi-shagirdi (teacher-disciple) relationship, a formality that male students don’t necessarily have to navigate in the same way with male instructors.

She went on to reflect on the deeper frustrations she observed among women who were at the top of their professions. She recalled speaking to many accomplished women who, despite their success, carried a sense of bitterness and frustration. At first, she wondered why—after all, they had achieved so much. But she soon realized that their struggles were rooted in the systemic challenges they had faced along the way.

She contrasted this with her observations of men in academia. Bright men, she noted, often carry themselves with an almost godlike confidence, feeling untouchable and free to take up as much space as they want, speaking for as long as they please. They often hold attitudes that reinforce male dominance—such as the assumption that all great theorists and philosophers are men. For men, projecting calm authority comes more easily, while women often have to fight for the same level of respect.

Sabri also spoke about the dynamics of entering academic spaces as a woman. She noticed that women, even those who are highly qualified, often speak less, while men dominate the conversation. She questioned why this happens, realizing that many women have simply given up. 

Women often “quietly quit” from traditional arenas of power, choosing to create their own worlds where they can thrive without constant male insecurity and pushback. 

The toxicity is often too exhausting and it is not just in overt acts like harassment or stalking, but the subtle, pervasive behaviors that wear women down. This includes constant interruptions, dismissiveness, and a lack of empathy. Concerns raised by women are often dismissed in ways they wouldn’t be if a man had raised them, with valid issues being painted as mere anxiety.

When asked about the challenges they have faced in their careers, the panelists shared candid, sobering reflections.

Abira Ashfaq spoke about the limiting ways men often relate to women in professional settings. She explained that men tend to understand women through narrow archetypes, forcing them to adapt in order to communicate or even reprimand male subordinates and colleagues. 

“A lot of it also has to be a psychological and psychic reflection of the way in which men are able to understand women, or for that matter, even women [are able to understand women],” she noted, highlighting the internalzied biases that shape our ways of relating to women in professional spaces.

Sameena Shahzaman, an experimental physicist and professor at Habib, shared a particularly striking anecdote that underscored the systemic challenges women face in male-dominated fields. 

She recounted how, throughout her career, she has almost always been surrounded by male colleagues—first in Pakistan and later abroad. To meet the expectations of male-dominated work environments, she often overworked herself, putting in 10 to 12 hours when her male colleagues worked 8.

She then shared a powerful story about a professor who joined her research group during her third year. After training in the U.S. and establishing her own research group, this professor returned to Austria and was placed in the same group where she had once been a student. Sameena described how, for the first time, she had meaningful conversations with a female experimental physicist who had even organized a conference to commemorate the achievements of female scientists—a first in their field. 

During one of their conversations, the professor shared a sobering insight: for every academic position, a woman has to work ten times harder than her male counterparts to prove her credibility. As she rises through the ranks, the pressure only intensifies, requiring even greater effort to achieve the same level of recognition.

Sameena emphasized that this disparity exists not just in academia but also in research, where women are scrutinized more heavily than men. “Now, if this is happening in Europe,” she added, “you can imagine how it is happening in Pakistan.”

She also touched on the subtle forms of harassment that women in positions of power often face. “We don’t really talk about or want to talk about when harassment happens,” she said. “When you are in a very responsible position, it happens in very subtle ways. If you are not cognizant of the ways people are trying to harass you, you might fall for it and only realize it in retrospect.” 

The Q&A session brought forward a thought-provoking reflection from Zoya Sameen, an audience member who had also presented her research in an earlier panel. She encouraged the audience to think intersectionally, sharing her personal experiences of solidarity with Black and Brown men, particularly in the context of Palestinian solidarity, which she felt more strongly than with white women. 

Her comment underscored the importance of considering the category of women alongside other intersecting identities—such as race, caste, and ethnicity—when discussing issues of empowerment and representation.

However, the session took an unexpected turn when a man in the audience interrupted the flow of the discussion. After the formal Q&A segment had concluded and one of the panelists was speaking, the man spoke out of turn, without being called on, saying, “May I say something?” The moderator responded, “Sorry, we don’t have time,” to which he retorted, “You are very much biased.”

This outburst was striking, not only because it demonstrated a blatant disregard for the moderator’s authority but also because it occurred immediately after an entire panel discussion about men speaking over women and taking up disproportionate space in academic and professional settings. The man’s insistence on being heard, even after being told there was no time, highlighted the very entitlement the panel had been critiquing.

The situation escalated when he began shouting, threatening to report the moderator to higher authorities—a statement that not only demeaned her authority but also revealed a disturbing level of entitlement. He then stormed out of the room.

This incident was a real-time example of the challenges women face in maintaining authority and control in spaces where male entitlement often goes unchecked. 

Attending this panel at my alma mater, was incredibly meaningful. As a young woman who has recently entered professional life, I found myself resonating deeply with so much of what was discussed. 

Reflecting on my own journey, I realize how much of my education took place in classrooms where most of my teachers were men, even though the majority of my cohort—especially in the humanities—were women. This imbalance is something I have grown accustomed to, but it also means I often lacked female role models to look up to. 

As an aspiring teacher, writer, and academic, being in this space was undeniably empowering. It was more than just a conference room; I felt held by a trans-generational feminist consciousness. 

This Women’s Day I am imagining the ways I will recreate spaces and communities like this one; in celebration, in gratitude, and in endless devotion.