WUNRN
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-30400690
PAKISTAN – HOW PAKISTAN’S WOMEN ARE PUNISHED FOR LOVE
In
a country fighting to preserve patriarchal and tribal traditions, Pakistan's
women can face brutality - and even death - if they fall in love with the wrong
person.
The Edhi
shelter provides women safety from abusive relationships, and a place to stay
if thrown out of the family home.
Arifa,
25, dared to stand up to her family, running away with the man she fell in love
with and secretly marrying him.
The
following day in a busy street in Karachi, Pakistan's most populous city, her
male family members surrounded the newlyweds and, at gunpoint, dragged Arifa
away.
It
was five days before her husband, Abdul Malik, heard any news of his wife.
"I
got a message that she had been murdered. That was the most difficult day of my
life," he tells me, holding back the tears. "After great difficulty I
managed to establish that my wife was alive and had been hidden
somewhere."
Fearing
for his life, Mr Malik has lived in hiding for three months.
"In
Pakistan, love is a big sin. Centuries have passed, the world has made so much
progress - men have reached the heavens. But our men are still following
age-old customs and traditions from the dark ages," he explains.
It
is these traditions and customs - which focus on denying women freedom - that
have growing acceptance in Pakistan and are encouraged by hard-line religious
scholars.
'Honour crimes'
The
rule of law is often ignored.
This
is a world where a woman has few rights in practice - she is the property of
her family until she marries.
Then
ownership passes to her husband's family, with the risk of death if she brings
dishonour to the family.
This
year alone, more than 1,000 women have been murdered for so-called honour
crimes - and these are just the ones of whom the authorities are aware.
In
May, the case of the young, pregnant woman Farzana Parveenshocked
the world. She was stoned to death by her family for marrying the man she was
in love with, rather than the man they had chosen for her.
Human
rights activists protest against the killing of pregnant woman Farzana Parveen
in the city of Lahore
By Yalda Hakim - BBC News, Pakistan – 12 December 2014
What
was most shocking was that it happened outside Lahore's high court, in front of
policemen and passers-by.
In
November, following worldwide media attention, Ms Parveen's father, brother,
cousin and former fiance were all found guilty of murder and
given the death sentence, while another brother got 10 years in jail.
But
more often than not, those who commit these brutal acts against women are never
charged, protected by tribal laws.
Some
hard-line religious scholars believe that only through the killing of an
offending family member - usually a woman - can honour be restored to the rest
of the family and tribe.
The
most surprising point is that few people in Pakistan nowadays are willing to
challenge these tribal traditions and customs. In fact, according to a recent
survey from the Pew Research
Centre, an overwhelming majority of Pakistanis support the full
implementation of Sharia - Islam's legal system.
'Stoning and lashes'
In
the backstreets of Karachi, I find a madrassa where thousands of boys and young
men receive their religious instruction. I want to ask the local clergyman
about his thoughts on adultery, for which women have also been murdered in
"honour killings".
"The
punishment is what is prescribed in Sharia, which is stoning and lashes,"
the mullah tells me.
The
mullah says peace in Pakistan "can only be achieved through the imposition
of Sharia law"
One
of his pupils backs his teachings: "Once it is proved, in Sharia, the
punishment is either lashes or stoning."
At
this madrassa, I find little sympathy for women who stray - punishing adultery
is a clear-cut duty.
But
what does the country's law say? In 1979, Gen Zia-ul-Haq, Pakistan's military
dictator, introduced the so-called Hudood Ordinance - a controversial set of
laws that attempted to Islamise Pakistan. Among other things, it made adultery
punishable by stoning and lashing.
In
2006, the then President, Pervez Musharraf, tried to liberalise some of these
laws to protect women, but the enforcement of his reforms has been limited and
adultery is still a crime.
'My husband kicked me out'
Karachi's
central prison for women is where many of those accused of adultery end up.
Sadia
is 24. She arrived at the prison four months ago after her husband of nine
years accused her of sleeping with another man. She is still awaiting trial.
"My
husband divorced me, beat me and then kicked me out of home," she
explains. "Then he went to the police and told them that I'd run away with
another man. In reality he and his family beat me and kicked me out."
Some
Islamic hardliners believe imprisoning women accused of adultery does not go
far enough.
Sadia
tells me she does not have access to a lawyer and is not sure when she will be
able to leave. At the time of my visit, there are 80 women in the prison - many
have no idea why they are there and end up languishing in jail for years
without trial.
Some
of the more lucky women end up at a handful of shelters across the country.
I
travelled to the Edhi shelter for women, a heavily guarded compound in one of
the most notorious and dangerous neighbourhoods on the outskirts of Karachi,
known for its Taliban sympathies.
Most
of the women here have run away from abusive relationships or have been thrown
out on to the streets by their families.
The
women live at the Edhi shelter peacefully, sharing chores, helping with the
cooking, cleaning and taking care of each other's children. There are never any
questions asked about why a woman has sought refuge at the home.
There
is one strict rule that everyone abides by - nobody is allowed in without the
say of the women, including the authorities.
"If
she is having an affair outside of here, we don't care, we don't ask. She can
stay as long as she likes," Samina, a volunteer at the shelter, tells me.
"If her family come to take her and she goes willingly, then she is free
to go."
What
if the police are after her for adultery charges, I ask. "No, we won't
hand her over to the police," says Samina.
'My children would scream'
Draped
in a red headscarf, Ayesha says she has left her home five times with her two
young children, fleeing to the safety of the shelter.
Each
time, her husband comes to collect her. But she tells me the abuse and torture
she is subjected to when she returns with him force her to run away again.
Ayesha
says her husband accuses her of having an affair. "My husband would lock
me up and then he would start to beat me, beyond any limit, forcing me to say
that I was having an affair.
"My
children would scream, 'Please someone save our mother.' But no-one would
listen, no-one would come."
Ayesha
tells me she has no intention of returning to her husband now. Although the
future remains uncertain for her, she says she feels lucky to be alive.
Despite
a growing middle class, attempts at modernity and secular condemnation,
combating ingrained institutional misogyny has become increasingly difficult in
Pakistan.
In
a society fighting to preserve patriarchal and tribal traditions, women face
brutality and gender-based violence in both urban and rural districts.
And
as religious fundamentalism continues to gain ground, the freedoms of women are
increasingly attacked.