A widow’s peak
Travelling from the vibrant capital of Pakistan to the serene vistas of Murree’s verdant hills, if you stop for a moment at the twenty-two-mile point, you will meet Musarrat Bibi, a forty-eight-year-old widow on the look out for customers to feed them or refresh them with tea. She runs a roadside food kiosk in the forest, to sustain her family after her husband’s demise.
In the sombre shadows of 2003, when illness claimed her husband’s life, she became the lone pillar for the well-being of her family. Musarrat Bibi shifted roles from being a housewife to a shopkeeper, and then a community worker until she found solace as the caretaker of this kiosk in the wilderness — each step aimed at securing the future of her children.
As I made my way to Murree, her inviting smile greeted me at her humble kiosk. She welcomed me warmly and shared her tale, speaking about the daunting challenge of resuming work after her mourning period, likening it to navigating through the darkness of a shattered world.
Despite the uphill battle of rebuilding her life without her husband, Musarrat found solace in her inner resilience. With determination, she embraced the belief that her strength would pave the way for brighter days ahead, not just for herself, but for her beloved children too.
Early in the morning after sending her children to school, Mussarat opens her kiosk and immediately gets busy in preparation of food for customers.
“I usually cook traditional cuisine which includes desi saag, sabzi, daal and chicken karahi. I start my day early by preparing saag and daal and when customers arrive, I serve them food along with homemade chutney and pickles,” she says, adding that other items on her menu are freshly made to order upon customer request.
In her eyes, I witnessed the firm resolve of a mother fiercely committed to ensuring the well-being of her family. I wondered if she is afraid of being alone in the wilderness. “Nothing is scarier than failing to raise my children,” says Musarrat, confidently.
When her husband passed away, her in-laws asked her to live with them, but she declined the offer as she wanted to raise her children without relying on favours from anyone.
“Instead, I started working on homemade handicrafts that I sold to shopkeepers in markets,” shares Musarrat. “Over time, I opened a shop in Barakahu, where I continued to create and sell handicrafts. However, in 2016, I was diagnosed with bladder stones, which forced me to close my shop, once again, posing problems for my livelihood.”
When she recovered from her illness, she found herself without any money, so she made the decision to relocate to an area where she would not have to pay rent for housing with the hope to alleviate the financial burden of rent, which had become too difficult for her.
She thought about starting a venture in animal husbandry in the jungle but was worried about financial obstacles and the risk of theft.
She mentioned that someone had suggested to her to open a kiosk for selling tea and other items similar to what she used to sell when she had a shop in Barakahu. She teamed up with some relatives and began operating a tuck shop while offering tea and various desi snacks alongside.
Customers frequenting the kiosk not only praise the food but also commend Mussarat’s dermination and courage. Fondly referred to as ‘Bewa Baji’ by regulars at the hotel, she has single-handedly catered for 20-30 people at a time.
Abdullah Tahir, a regular customer makes a pit stop at Musarrat’s kiosk, solely because the food tastes homely and the prices are reasonable.
“Her food is very delicious and her initiative and effort highly commendable,” he says. “This lady has never asked anyone for help.”
Even though Mussarat received acclaim for her efforts, she encountered several obstacles when setting up her kiosk. She faced bias and criticism from various quarters of life. Some suspected her to be involved in questionable activities like prostitution, while others hinted at possible ties to illegal land occupation.
The most challenging aspect was when for some reason, those who initially helped her in setting up the kiosk, didn’t like her bouncing back after her illness. They demanded payment which she was unable to provide and it led to the destruction of everything at her kiosk. They left with all her belongings including the kiosk signboards, leaving nothing behind.
“For a fleeting moment it seemed as though all hope was lost, and I couldn’t help breaking into tears,” recalls Musarrat. “But then, I realised that surrendering to despair is not an option. I refuse to succumb to adversity and today the result speaks for itself.”
Musarrat removed shrubs and bushes from the roadside and cleaned up the surrounding area. She chopped palm leaves from the nearby forest and used them to construct her kiosk. There were days when she could not afford to purchase plastic sheets to protect the the roof and walls and from the rain, but after a few days, she managed to get them.
“I cook in clay pots as I cannot afford to buy other utensils,” says Musarrat. “I have only four chairs because I cannot afford to buy tables and chairs, so I have put up mats for the families to sit on. I still have bruises on my hands after cutting palm leaves.”
When she has spare time, she either preps for food or goes off to gather wood. When a customer stops by she cooks food as quickly as possible because wood dries out and she cannot afford a gas cylinder.
“I will no longer need to work, when my children complete their education and find employment,” she says, beaming with pride and hope.
Her two daughters study at university and also assist in her business venture. Musarrat wishes to empower other women so they too can find their own means of financial independence.
“When people offer me help, I tell them to provide resources to those with fewer means so they can sell homemade food,” she says. “I will help them learn how to cook desi cuisine”.
“Musarrat serves as an example for the thousands of widows who have given up and become dependent on their families or in-laws,” says Sabahat Khan, a journalist who works on women’s empowerment and vulnerable and marginalised segments of society. “Consequently, they encounter multiple problems, including insecurity and are unable to raise their children on their own terms.”
Khan feels that despite the progress our society has made in terms of equality and human rights, many are not willing to admit the bitter truth, that widows are still considered a bad omen.
“They face social ostracism, while many of them are denied the right to remarry or inherit property,” she claims.
Khan emphasised that despite the awareness surrounding human and equal rights, widows in Pakistan continue to lead unfortunate lives, adding that in the current economic crisis facing Pakistan, marked by significant increases in food, energy and consumer prices, it is imperative to recognise that if half of the Pakistani population were engaged in the workforce alongside men, it could help alleviate these challenges.
“Women face numerous challenges in this chauvinistic society, while most major job positions are occupied by men,” says Bariya Shah, an Islamabad-based women's rights activist. “Women are often taken for granted, with their hard work going unnoticed. Men, intimidated by strong women, view them as rivals rather than partners.”
Shah shared her own experiences of facing challenges and emphasised the importance of empowering women through such roles, so that it can significantly benefit the society.
She expressed her commitment to mentoring, guiding and sharing experiences with others, seeing it as a moral and ethical responsibility to lead women in the right direction.
“Musarrat overcame adversity to sustain her family and create a livelihood for herself and her children,” says Bina Akram Khan Jabori, a doctor who met Musarrat at her kiosk. Dr Jabori also works for women’s self-sustainability through equity and equality and
She acknowledged Musarrat’s limitations, her financial constraints along with tackling societal stigma against widows, criticism from her own community and the physical challenges of maintaining a kiosk in the wilderness.
“Anyone can overcome these limitations through sheer determination, hard work, and resilience,” Dr Jabori adds. “But Musarrat utilised her skills as an artisan to start a business, adapted to changing circumstances and sought alternative means of income generation.”
She called on the government to assist women like Musarrat who are determined to start their own ventures. “People must not judge others based on their own biases, but to admire them instead of devaluing them with derogatory language,” Dr Jabori adds.
Mussarat advises women to be self-reliant. “Do it on your own; and that too without the help of your male family members,” she says. “Rest assured they are going to be proud of you.”
Ayesha Fiaz is a research scholar and freelance journalist
All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the writer