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In last part of this series, Dr Fouzia Saeed discusses an exciting initiative Working on women’s issues is not really a profession for me; it is
neither a career nor a task. For me it is a very personal affair, a
passionate commitment with myself and other women like me. If you ask me
to trace back to where it all began, I would say it was when I started
feeling the restrictions that girls begin to sense when they approach
their early teens. My reaction to those restrictions was to ask: Why?
For women, it is interesting that the first realization about their
gender is usually associated with negative comments. Mostly it is the
restrictions that define us. ‘Now you are growing up, you cannot play
with boys; you can’t go out alone; don’t jump or play freely; don’t sing
and dance in public.’ I think that my questioning, though now on a very
different plane, continues even today.
As a women’s rights activist I have been branded many times with labels
like a ‘feminist with curly hair’ (at one time I used to have a perm),
an ‘iron fist in a velvet glove’, or a ‘feminist with a feminine touch.’
I guess all these relate to men’s inability to fit me into the common
stereotype people have for women’s rights activists that men can
understand: angry, aggressive and fighting all the time. Knowing me with
my colourful clothes, ever-changing hair styles, love for ethnic attire,
music and dancing. And for the most part, a fairly polite demeanour,
they are confused about how to categorize me.
It was during my student life in America when, as a women’s activist, I
switched from an outright struggle for women’s rights, where I was
leading rallies and participating in political gatherings, to a more
facilitative mode, where I started working one-on-one with women who had
been the victims of violent abuse. I volunteered extensively with
organizations that were dealing with women in personal crisis. I did not
miss any opportunity to learn and gain experience. I gained experience
on how to run women’s groups, and how to counsel victims of violence. I
also learned how to conduct research on these issues. My switch was
basically from an intellectual approach towards gender imbalances to a
heart-level journey where I committed my life to restore the dignity of
women. I felt that women needed to find their strength from within,
through personal transformation, and then change the larger system. In
order to alter my approach, I had to change my personality as well. The
gung-ho Fouzia who felt most comfortable in leading thousands and being
on the centre stage, took a back seat and realized that real change
comes where others are encouraged and enabled to help themselves, and
where communities are empowered to take care of their own problems.
Visible leaders sometimes just get in the way of empowerment.
When I returned to Pakistan, I started to re-learn these issues from the
perspective of women in my own country through the Women’s Action Forum
(WAF). They helped me to form a task force on violence against women in
1989. This issue was not clearly acknowledged at that time, but WAF
guided us on how to raise our voices and make the issue more prominent.
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 With the winners of a music competition, Karachi |
 Graduation ceremony at conclusion of a two month course at Mehergarh
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 Hosting the famous Manganhaar festival in Karachi, organized by The Folklore Society |
 Dr Fouzia Saeed with Dr Kamran Ahmad and the graduating class of 2008, Mehergarh |
 Dr Fouzia (right) sitting with a Marwari folk singer |
When you get to my age, you start worrying about whether or not you have
transferred the essential skills to the next generation. My brother, Dr
Kamran Ahmad, and other close friends who share this concern keep
discussing how to invest in our youth, which we feel have been neglected
by our society. In the past, young people used to be groomed as
responsible citizens, social activists and good leaders through various
platforms that have gradually disappeared over the years. In the 50s and
60s, offices of big newspapers, used to generate young progressive media
activists, led by experienced thinkers like Mazhar Ali, Faiz Sahib,
Siddiqui Sahib and IA Rehman. Cafes used to be a hub for the thinkers
and progressive writers and poets to plant seeds of reflection in the
minds of young people. Organizations like Anjuman Taraqi Pasand
Musanefin and other progressive movements also provided a good ground
for grooming. For my generation, it was our university students’ unions
that provided the platform to learn political thinking, mobilisation,
running elections, representing the interests of others and many other
aspects of leadership. But when you look around now, the hubs of
developing progressive thought and leadership are hardly there. What can
I say about learning opportunities? Our youth does not even have simple
entertainment or sports opportunities for healthy engagement with one
another.
Mehergarh is the name given to an 8000 year old civilization that has
its ruins in Baluchistan. We gave this name to our institute so as to
reflect our philosophical link with Pakistani culture that goes back
thousands of years.
We started the Institute in 2004 and it quickly became a magnet for
young people who yearned to connect with others, and were genuinely
interested in social change. We run leadership camps for young leaders
from all over the country and fully engage them in our campaigns on
various human rights issues. Kamran focuses on programs around peace and
pluralism, encouraging young people to explore the spirituality rooted
in our ancient traditions and generating a school of thought for
progressive change. I have focused on helping bright young people in
sharpening their leadership skills, teaching them strategic thinking,
building alliances and helping them to think beyond their immediate
environment.
Over the years we have evolved sound methods of changing people’s
mindset using experiential trainings that address ideology, norms and
personal attitude. We used all that experience and developed a
residential leadership course for youth. The course lasts for two months
and involves young people between the ages of 18 and 25 from all
backgrounds, religions, genders and regions. I remember once a
participant of my course from FATA said to me at the end of the course,
“I had never seen a Hindu and had strange stereotypes about them. Last
night I was sleeping under one roof where I was a Muslim with my two
best friends, one a Christian and one a Hindu. We have become so close
in the last two months that I cannot image my life without them”. It is
at moments like this when I think that it is possible for our nation to
move beyond ethnicities, religions, provincial identities and begin to
relate with each others as citizens and as humans.
Each year, as the lead trainer, I live with the participants at the
Mehergarh training center for the full two months. Even when my husband
and I lived abroad, I used to come to Pakistan for the duration of the
course. This was my contribution to the grooming of the next generation.
Of course, I can’t do this alone, many of the best trainers and thinkers
in Pakistan have volunteered to help. I feel proud to acknowledge that
who ever we asked to come and speak at Mehergarh immediately agreed.
This year I did a shorter advanced level course for the best
participants of all the previous years, which was a truly enjoyable
experience.
Another aspect of Mehergarh is our concept that the solutions to major
problems we face today lie in our cultural traditions. We are strong
proponents of our progressive cultural traditions. We feel that we need
to be proud of our own identities and then try to transform them. We
cannot borrow empowerment from outside: we have to get it from within
us.
In addition to Mehergarh I have been a founding member of The Folklore
Society of Pakistan. I work closely with Yasser Nomann, a founding
member and the Coordinator of the Society, and other friends who have
been into revival of folk traditions. Our folklore contains strong
messages of love, tolerance and peace, all ideas that we need badly
these days. Over the last seven years we have particularly encouraged
the Manganhaar community from the deserts of Sindh and Punjab to
revitalize their music schools so their children can know and perform
their traditional music. The annual Manganhaar Music Festival in Karachi
has helped to bring their music to the ears of our mainstream society.
This has worked quite well not only to popularize this form of folk
music again in our society, but to help the Manganhaar community to find
pride in their heritage. One day I would like to take these Manganhaar
children on a tour of city schools so our urbanized kids can see the
level of discipline and passion for music that can be achieved by a
child of 8 years old.
My current focus is on clarifying the confusion in the minds of our
youth where some of them still have misplaced affections for the
Taliban, who they perceive to be heroes of Islam. It is sad that our
media, education system and the government propaganda machinery have
pushed opinions on our youth and have not guided them to develop their
own. When the video of Chand Bibi’s public lashing was shown, so many
people immediately said that it was a fake, even though we had already
witnessed men being slaughtered on television, schools being burnt,
people being hanged. Now that we have a bomb blast every day where
innocent people die, but that is also not enough to shake this nation
out of this strange romance of Taliban. We start to invent conspiracies
between the Indians and Israelis rather than directing our anger at
these killers in our midst. I am saddened that our nation is not out on
the streets protesting against these criminals who want to take us back
in the 5nd century. I am also shocked that our nation doesn’t throw
those political leaders out of the window who call the taliban, shaheed.
I want our young people to question and reflect on these realities. I
would like to see them differentiate between our religion, which gives
the message of peace, and these monsters who are falsely selling their
battle for greed and power in the name of Islam.
Frankly, I don’t think we can really teach the younger generation any
solutions to the problems they will face, because they will go to places
that we cannot even imagine. The only thing that I feel I could help
them with is some process tools they could take along; it is things like
critical thinking, building arguments, finding evidence to back an
argument, checking the facts, putting 2 and 2 together, assessing
situations and deriving their own conclusions. I also think we can teach
them the art of pruning our traditional culture where we take the most
progressive of our culture and transform that which is cruel or
inappropriate. I do hope our next generation does much better than us.
This piece was compiled with the assistance of
Kamil Ali Rextin who lives in Islamabad |
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