Destiny - مقدر

19 - Women's Rights - خواتین کے حقوق

"Every woman in this world wears a little sparkle, some in their dress, and some in their eyes." -Shahla Khan

-FIVE YEARS LATER-

I opened the doors to 'The Afreen Society for Women and Girls' and just as I had expected, there was a short line of familiar faces waiting outside. "Hello Mariam! How is Gasheen?"
She nodded with a friendly grin, "Hello Aqsa! He's getting so big, just started to crawl."
"Masha'Allah! Congratulations!" She walked into the building and I continued to greet the others flooding in.

Aafia, who had just recently escaped an abusive relationship with a man she was forced to marry, eight years ago. She was carrying her baby boy Hamza, that she had now learnt to raise by herself. There was Hina, who was left depressed after her previous husband killed their only daughter. Iqra also arrived, she was one of the lucky ones. She was still married, but finding it hard to adjust after having her first child, having previously suffered a miscarriage. There were many others, all with different stories. Khadijah, Mahek, Nahid, Sara, Tania, Wajeeha, Zainab and Farhana. The others were yet to arrive, but I didn't mind.

They were free to come in their own time. I understood that the vast majority of us did not have easy lives. They came from difficult backgrounds that made a set time incredibly hard to stick to. But this foundation wasn't created to pressure the woman of Kashmir. It was made to help them. Sometimes small, just counselling and talking, to get them in the right mind-set. Others were more complicated. The law had to get involved, but we would do that for them. To let them know they don't have to go it alone. Times like that could get stressful and I was here to let them know they didn't have to do it by themselves. And that there are people who understand them. We were all women who had been in the same place, just learning to take things one step at a time, together.

I called it 'The Afreen Society' after Afreen, obviously. One of our fallen soldiers. I often tell stories of her bravery and her courage, the younger girls love to hear about her, as do the older women. I wanted her legacy to live on, even if her life would be wasted. Of course, it hurt knowing that somewhere in the world, she was probably still alive. Hurting and feeling alone and afraid. It made me feel guilty, that's partially why I did this. For her. If she knew what I was doing, right now, she'd be so proud. I know she would be.

Once everyone waiting had gotten inside, I held the door open in place with a heavy wooden block and proceeded to carry out the session. "So...what do you lot want to talk about today?" I sat on a square red pillow in front of them and gave them a friendly smile. "Why don't we start with backstories?"
Every session, one person would tell everyone why they were here. We didn't pressure anyone who didn't want to, but backstories are so much deeper than simply a name. I had to make this personal, for them. So that I could really try and sympathise with each and every one of them.

Hina's hand instantly shot in the air. "Me! Can I?"
I laughed and nodded, "Of course, Hina."
Everyone smiled their friendly smiles, and waited expectedly. Hina rose from her pillow on the floor and stared nervously yet eagerly at the crowd of woman and girls before her.

"As-Salaam-Alaikum, my name is Hina. I am currently not married, I used to have a husband but...I left him. I now live with my sister, Rafia and her family. I used to have a lovely baby girl, Sameera..." She beamed, brightening up at the very mention of her beloved child's name. "When she was two years old...she was murdered. That was seven years ago...My previous husband, I was forced to marry him when I was sixteen and he was thirty-nine. One day, he was mad because I had forgotten to prepare atta for his rotis and he was really hungry. I told him that I could make it quickly but he wanted them right then and there. Unaware of his actions and how incredibly angry he was getting, he began to throw things rapidly around the house. He grabbed a plate from the kitchen and without thinking, threw it directly at Sameera, who was sleeping in her cot on the kitchen table."
She paused for a breath, her eyes slowly tearing up as she spoke.
"It caused her severe damage to the brain and she died later in hospital. The worst thing was...he didn't even care. He just wanted a boy anyway...After that, I had severe depression. I would cry at anything and everything. I was too weak to even leave the house. He kept saying, 'lets have a boy now' 'the girl was useless anyway' but I didn't want to give him what he wanted. I only wanted my baby girl..."