The autobiography, Mera Zamana Meri Kahani, is not just Mahpara Safdar’s life story but a treatise on the social and political history of Pakistan, especially of ’70s and ’80s. The book is divided in three parts: the first covers her childhood, education, family life, parents and sisters, and early days at Radio Pakistan, Lahore; part two covers the time she spent at radio and PTV, and the country’s politics and events during that time, and part three is about her time and life in the UK and at BBC, with essays about her travels and interviews of famous Pakistani celebrities and politicians, mostly as part of her daily work.
In the first part, Safdar takes the readers on a walk down the memory lane to her early days, where we meet her loving parents to whom she attributes her confidence and will. Despite limited resources and lack of schooling opportunities, her parent’s emphasis on education is exemplary for future generations. For instance, her father moved from Khushab to Sargodha just because Khushab didn’t have a girls’ college.
Safdar has five sisters and recalls how a relative came over to ‘condole’ the birth of another daughter, and taunted her father who was often referred to as ‘Baitiyon walay Zaidi sahib’ [Zaidi sahib who has all daughters]. The family was lucky that the sons-in-law were as good as sons. A whole chapter is a tribute to her brothers-in-law, titled ‘Kon kehta hay humara bhai nahi tha [who says we didn’t have a brother].’
Her parents were not deterred by social patriarchal attitudes and gave the daughters the confidence to move forward in life and pursue careers of their choice. Safdar credits her mother for ensuring that the sisters pursued education at a time when most girls were discouraged from stepping out of the house. She is aware of the society’s attitude and the prevailing discrimination regarding girls and discusses the subject in detail.
Safdar discusses gender discrimination in the book, how she was not allowed to read the news of Gen Zia’s death because it was ‘serious’ news, and she compares it Mary Reen, in charge of BBC current affairs programmes, telling her that women even faced discrimination at BBC.
While she talks fondly of her life and home in Sargodha where she spent her early life, she also recalls the war of 1965, the airstrikes and sirens, and the spirit of the nation during the war. She narrates how she witnessed the tail of a plane catching fire, falling downwards and later she came to know that it was the enemy plane shot down by Squadron Leader M. M. Alam.
The war of 1971 and the circumstances that led to the separation of East Pakistan and creation of Bangladesh are dealt with in detail. As great as the tragedy of the fall of Dhaka is, equally tragic was the way the news was announced on PTV. How sad it was that the country’s biggest news was communicated in just 24 words, she writes.
The society was still not very open in 1977 when she wanted to join PTV. While she hadn’t faced opposition for working on radio, when it came to work on TV even her mother, who was forward looking and supported her daughters’ higher education and career, had objections. This was because of the society looking down upon girls working on TV and in films. And when she finally gained permission on strict conditions, she was content with being a newscaster.
There is an interesting account of the requirements for this position ― a knowledge of the background of all the news, pronunciation and correct tone for each news depending on whether it was happy or sad news, controlling one’s personal emotions, and a subtle and graceful dress code, makeup and hairstyle. She tells how after a few months she was told by the director news that the glitter of her nose-pin often distracted him so she would cover it with makeup. Now the dress code seems to have been reversed as some news casters and anchors are dressed up for a fashion show, and fiddle with their hair. The rule that viewers’ attention should not be on the anchor, but on their work is no longer in practice.
Safdar had seen Z.A. Bhutto up close when he visited Sargodha before the 1970 elections to introduce his party. She had tagged along with her mother to his jalsa though she was yet not aware of the importance of vote and electoral process. She devotes some space to talk about Bhutto, Shimla talks, his efforts to bring back prisoners of war after the ’71 war, and recognition of Bangladesh.
When news of Bhutto’s execution was to be announced, she was asked if she would be able to read the news without crying. She writes that though she had earlier cried when she heard the news, she read out the news professionally.
Gen Zia’s attempts at Islamisation are no secret. Among other things is the dress code for women in general and media women in particular. Safdar writes extensively about the dress code during the Gen Zia era, when it became mandatory for all female news casters and anchors to cover their heads. The dupatta controversy, as it is often referred to, forced Mahtab Rashdi to leave PTV as she refused to comply with Gen Zia’s diktats. Safdar was even accused of making fun of the dupatta because of the way she would wrap it around her head. For a time, women were even prohibited from wearing makeup, a ban that was repealed after some backlash, the dupatta rule remained.
While narrating her story and experiences, Safdar makes us relive several key moments in history, such as the flogging of political opponents and journalists by the Zia regime press censorship, Gen Zia’s tactics at postponing the promised elections and referendum, the partyless elections of 1985, and the rise of Benazir. Benazir’s return from exile, the elections and musical chairs between PPP and PML at forming governments are also part of the narrative.
She was at the Radio Pakistan Islamabad when the Ojhri camp disaster took place. The horrors of the incident are given much space and probable reasons are discussed boldly, though nothing can be said with certainty as is the case with most tragedies in the country. It is unfortunate that most reports on tragic events in the country remain buried and never see the light of day. From Hamoodur Rahman Commission to Ojhri camp disaster to Gen Zia’s death commissions have been formed to investigate all incidents but nothing was ever made public. Whose interests are being served to keep the public ignorant is a big question though there are many guesses.
In 1990, Safdar moved to London after joining BBC Urdu service. She was selected, but required clearance from the prime minster and the intelligence bureau. And in the process learnt that her name was on the exit control list, just because she was thought to have contact with a former minister. She wonders about the purpose of such misinformation. As her husband was working in Japan those days, she had to live alone with her two young children for some years till he joined them. She shares her experiences at the BBC where she not only read news, but also did their famous programme Sair bein which was very popular in Pakistan. She states that since Pakistani media was state controlled, people would listen to BBC for authentic news, since as far back as during the 1971 war.
While at the BBC, she learnt that rehearsals were done from time to time for the queen’s funeral so that when the time comes there would be no mismanagement and confusion. She relates an interesting anecdote when, in 2015, a routine drill was being held at the BBC headquarters to train the staff to handle a tense situation, in case of the queen’s death. A new inexperienced producer who was not aware of the drill saw the news flash on the internal monitor regarding the queen’s death and, without thinking or confirming the news, tweeted it. The fate of the producer is not known but the BBC Urdu service fell under immense criticism.
Over the years, she compiled many programmes for BBC including a series on Balochistan for which she met Akbar Bugti, Ataulla Mengal, and Khair Bux Marri. She talks in detail about the issues in the mineral-rich Balochistan; while the sardars enjoy all the privileges, the common man suffers. She writes, “I want to ask the Baloch what do nations fight for, independence, identity, money, to improve their lot? What is the fight for in Balochistan? Is it to maintain the supremacy of the Sardars? If developmental work is not being done, whose loss is it, the people of Balochistan? The Sardars live in large cities surrounded by dozens of guards and go abroad for treatment, but the poor Baloch are dying or disappearing. Those who are losing their lives will they ever benefit from this guerrilla war?”
She also interviewed icons such as Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi, Intezar Hussain, Altaf Fatima, Mehdi Hasan, Farida Khanum, Zeba, Dilip Kumar, Surayiya Multanikar, many of which are available on her YouTube channel.
Safdar believes that there should be a museum dedicated to the film world where the future generations can get to know about legendary artists and our cultural heritage.
She also prepared a series about her impressions on the lifestyle changes in Iran after the revolution. While she was in Iran the second round of presidential elections were held and hence she got the chance to learn about the electoral process, and talks at length about the political and power hierarchy. She felt strange that though the students of Tehran University were at the forefront of the revolution, politics were not allowed to be discussed at the university.
While working at the BBC, Safdar continued her educational pursuits, and earned a master’s degree in Women’s Studies from the University of London. She is all praise for her husband, poet and producer Safdar Hamdani who she had befriended while at Radio Pakistan and married in 1979. He. supported her at every stage of her life.
The book is not just her personal story, but a reflection on the time she grew up in and made a name for herself. While her personal story is a source of inspiration for young girls who want to break free from the shackles of tradition and patriarchy and make a name and a place for themselves, at the same time, the book offers a glimpse into the society and events that took place in the ’70 and ’80s not just in Pakistan, but the world over, especially those that affected Pakistan.
The reviewer is a freelance journalist and tweets @naqviriz; she can be reached at naqvi2012rizwana@hotmail.co.uk