The long road to freedom: With a new venue, Aurat March 2022 centered inclusivity

Shifting from Frere Hall to MA Jinnah Road, organisers attempt to bring the protest into the mainstream

KARACHI:

There is an anxiety that permeates the air in the hours preceding Aurat March. Taking to the streets on International Women’s Day, the protestors are all too familiar with the vitriol that comes with being a part of the yearly demonstration. Regardless, with the threats of violence exaggerated this year, given the calls by JUI-F hardliners to resist the annual protest by force and the insistence of the country’s religious affairs minister over a ban on the march, the fear of things going sideways was palpable. However, fear quickly gave way to excitement, manifesting in chants of freedom and resistance, to the joy of celebrating what it means to be a woman, and, most importantly, to the strength and solidarity found in numbers, no matter how limited.

Protestors gathered in Karachi at Baagh e Jinnah opposite Quaid’s mausoleum on the iconic MA Jinnah road, with the change in location of the march, the past four iterations of which were held at Frere Hall (situated at the junction between Saddar and Clifton), imbuing the protest with a unique power granted by the centrality of the new venue. Taking to the main road, in many ways the beating heart of Karachi, this year’s Aurat March, with relatively fewer participants, felt far more prominent. Walking along the city’s main vein, placards in hand and the words ujrat, tahaffuz aur sukoon [equal wages, security and peace/rest] on the lips of every protestor, the resistance against erasure and silence was far more pronounced.   

Reflecting on the much-needed change in venue, with the previous choice of location criticised for catering to the needs of protestors hailing from more affluent areas of the city, organiser Sheema Kermani expressed how the march was shifted to MA Jinnah in an effort to make the protest more mainstream and accessible. 

She explained in a conversation with The Express Tribune, “There are women belonging to a variety of social classes participating in the march this year. I believe that is a big achievement.” Responding to the criticism levelled at the march over its exclusionary nature in the past, Sheema shared how the march is now focusing on becoming a full-fledged feminist movement that “goes beyond class and is intersectional and intergenerational in every aspect”.

While waiting for other participants to gather in order to start the march, reports reached the ground that up to two buses full of protestors were facing blockades on their way to the venue. With many hopeful protestors turning back halfway due to immense traffic and parallel protests, several arrived just as the marchers were about to reach their conclusive destination near Capri Cinema. The blockades, coupled with the fact that the march was held on a weekday at an unfamiliar venue, deterred several former protestors from returning for this year’s march.

Despite the logistical issues, the mood at the ground was celebratory. Popular songs such as Salaam e Ishq were lyrically altered to suit the themes of the march and the needs of the protestors. The performers sang, “Mera dil bechain hai barabari ke liye,” as jubilant protestors broke into dance at the foot of the massive stage. A trio of young women clad in red from Ismail Goth presented an impassioned rap against the patriarchy, leading to cheers from the protestors sitting in the audience. 

However, the joy was pierced by necessary moments of rightful anger and tears of suffering as women affected by demolitions of their homes in the name of “anti-encroachment” took to the stage to share their sorrow and plea for support, serving as a much-needed reality check for why the protesters had decided to take to the streets of the city in the first place. The wife of Nazim Jokhio, who was tortured and killed by PPP MNA Jam Awais after Nazim filmed a group of foreigners hunting the endangered houbara bustard, demanded justice for her slain husband. 

The country’s first transgender doctor, Sarah Gill, addressed the crowd while dressed in purple scrubs. Speaking about the controversy surrounding the now-staple feminist slogan in Pakistan, “Mera jism, meri marzi [My body, my choice]”, Dr Sarah asserted, “I’ve often heard that the slogan ‘Mera jism, meri marzi’ promotes vulgarity. That’s all it means to some people. Today, at this stage, I have something to say to every Pakistani. This slogan was definitely brought forward by women, but it is not limited to them alone. Mera jism, meri marzi is for men, for children, for khwaja siras. For God’s sake, do not link our chant, our fair and just slogan to vulgarity.” 

Paras, a trans woman protesting at the march, echoed Dr Sarah’s sentiment. She explained, “It’s important to know that this march isn’t just for [cis] women. It's for the transgender community, for khwaja siras and, in a way, also for the male members of our society. Anyone who stands against patriarchy can participate and provide support. Everyone can join in and make our society safe.” 

Prominent trans rights activist Bindya Rana reflected on the importance of ujrat [equal wages], sharing, “Today we’re talking about ujrat. The khwaja sira community does not get any opportunities for paid work.” She added,  “If you go towards the outskirts of Karachi, in the rural areas of Sindh and Punjab, women are treated like reproductive machines. A 16-year-old child is married off to a 50-year-old man. The same woman you’ll find in the field, taking care of animals, serving her husband, and raising 10 to 12 children.” 

A limited number of celebrities were also present at the venue, namely model-turned-event manager Frieha Altaf, actor Hajra Yamin and author Mira Sethi. Frieha shared, “We rank 153 out of 156 countries when it comes to women’s rights and emancipation. Domestic abuse is up, it hasn't gone down. There’s a lot that needs to change.”  

The protestors walked from Baagh e Jinnah to Capri Cinema, with the march culminating in a sit-in outside the historic theatre. Residents of the area crowded in their balconies to watch the protest, some switching on their smartphone flashlights to become a part of the march. Chants were raised in remembrance of those lost to patriarchal violence, and for the protection of those who suffer the threat of not making it to the march next year. Women from all walks of life took up space in a city that so often fails to feel like home, and, in the end, the protestors walked back to the park in relative silence, cradling in their hearts the hope of a better, safer and a more just tomorrow.