Female flood victims — on the periphery
Women are just as desperate, anxious to feed their children as the men fighting over the last bag of flour.
Towards the end of a visit to a small village on the outskirts of Nowshera to distribute relief goods, a new challenge awaited. A flock of women descended upon us, howling for help. They were mostly widows, old women with no children or without any men in the household. None of us spoke Pashto and we struggled to understand them. A local male intervened.
Why were the women not part of the village headcount done prior to arrival and distribution? The village committee had only approached the men for details. But why had they not come earlier to collect the relief goods? “Due to the honour code”, the man said. “They can’t possibly queue along with the men”. What about the male honour code to protect women and children first, I asked. There was no answer.
Kalsoom bibi has no children. She wants to know who would look after her house if she left. Other village women leave their sons and husbands behind to look after their home when they go to nearby camps to get food. Sometimes they get her something as well; sometimes they hardly have enough for their own.
Najma has a different issue. Her eldest son is 11 and spends his day scouting for food for himself and his family. Najma will not go to the camp in Nowshera. She is scared of leaving her home and taking shelter in a camp or school. Her husband has been in jail since last year and is to be released any day. “I have to be here when he returns. How will he know where I am?” she says.
Ameera’s husband lost both his legs in an accident. Her sons are too young to stand in line for receiving relief goods. They are not eligible anyway, another woman said. They are Afghans. The requirement is that one must have a Nadra-issued CNIC to be able to collect any relief or compensation. Both her sons walk around naked and Ameera herself is clad in clothes so worn down and her face is barely covered. She wraps herself in a tattered bed sheet before she steps out to see us off.
The women were just as desperate and anxious to feed their hungry children as the men outside fighting over the last bag of flour. Their frustration and resentment was not as apparent but it was present. Why the helplessness then? Or was it fear? To be fair, their survival skills have been eroded due to centuries of being shielded by their male relatives and prolonged existence within the four walls of their homes. They are not prepared for this.
Throughout history, development scientists have struggled with the question of women being marginalised on various counts. The dilemma inspired one of the greatest paradigm shifts from ‘Women AND development” to “Women IN development’ to indicate a more inclusive view of things, especially with regard to women. Since then, women have taken place as prime beneficiaries of development programmes. Look up the mandate of any well-reputed NGO and one will find a section of their charter dedicated solely to improving the plight of women and children. Some focus entirely on them. However, even today, the change seems cosmetic as women continue to be at the periphery. From our part, doing everything we can is no longer enough. We need to do everything we should.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 11th, 2010.
Why were the women not part of the village headcount done prior to arrival and distribution? The village committee had only approached the men for details. But why had they not come earlier to collect the relief goods? “Due to the honour code”, the man said. “They can’t possibly queue along with the men”. What about the male honour code to protect women and children first, I asked. There was no answer.
Kalsoom bibi has no children. She wants to know who would look after her house if she left. Other village women leave their sons and husbands behind to look after their home when they go to nearby camps to get food. Sometimes they get her something as well; sometimes they hardly have enough for their own.
Najma has a different issue. Her eldest son is 11 and spends his day scouting for food for himself and his family. Najma will not go to the camp in Nowshera. She is scared of leaving her home and taking shelter in a camp or school. Her husband has been in jail since last year and is to be released any day. “I have to be here when he returns. How will he know where I am?” she says.
Ameera’s husband lost both his legs in an accident. Her sons are too young to stand in line for receiving relief goods. They are not eligible anyway, another woman said. They are Afghans. The requirement is that one must have a Nadra-issued CNIC to be able to collect any relief or compensation. Both her sons walk around naked and Ameera herself is clad in clothes so worn down and her face is barely covered. She wraps herself in a tattered bed sheet before she steps out to see us off.
The women were just as desperate and anxious to feed their hungry children as the men outside fighting over the last bag of flour. Their frustration and resentment was not as apparent but it was present. Why the helplessness then? Or was it fear? To be fair, their survival skills have been eroded due to centuries of being shielded by their male relatives and prolonged existence within the four walls of their homes. They are not prepared for this.
Throughout history, development scientists have struggled with the question of women being marginalised on various counts. The dilemma inspired one of the greatest paradigm shifts from ‘Women AND development” to “Women IN development’ to indicate a more inclusive view of things, especially with regard to women. Since then, women have taken place as prime beneficiaries of development programmes. Look up the mandate of any well-reputed NGO and one will find a section of their charter dedicated solely to improving the plight of women and children. Some focus entirely on them. However, even today, the change seems cosmetic as women continue to be at the periphery. From our part, doing everything we can is no longer enough. We need to do everything we should.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 11th, 2010.