PukhtunWomen

(this article first appeared inThe News)

More tribeal women than men are executed to uphold Rawaj, the Pathan code of honour, reports Samar Minallah

In winter, Khaar, the main town of Bajaur Agency in NWFP, becomes a dry, rugged environment painted in earth tones. Even the inhabitants rugged, suntanned men__ blend into the mellow hues of the scene. The only punctuation of colour comes from brightly decked up public vans.

Expecting to see a sign of the fair sex is hoping for a freak of nature. One catches only a rare glimpse of a shuttlecock burga on an overloaded pickup hurtling across the landscape.

Penetrating the high, fortress-like mud walls guarding the life and honour ofa Pathan tribal woman is not easy. Nearly inaccessible she lives a challenging life behind four walls. Except for socializing during occasions of khaadi (joy) and ghum (sorrow), her glimpses of the outside world are as rare as the world's glimpses of her.

The onset of her life, if not mourned, is unremarked. As a child, she enjoys a brief span of freedom before being muffled by a code of honor which dictates that she be demure and retiring.

As daughter, wife and mother, she learns modesty and endurance. Only in the autumn of her life, once she has fulfilled the obligations of an uncompromising code, is she rewarded with respect.

Tribal disputes are decided according to rawaj, the Pathan code of conduct, by a tribal parliament (jirga) whose members are spingiray, white bearded elders of strong and respected lineage.

With regard to moral crimes, tribal Pathans respect no law but their own. According to rawaj, the mere sight of a woman speaking to or associating with a stranger I enough to arouse a man's passion and saritope (manhood). Whether an allegation of illicit relations is poroved or not, the accused in most instances are slain.

These offences are called tore (literally meaning “black”). Different tribes of Bajaur have different degrees of punishment in a tore case. While some execute the sinners straightaway, others are willing to acquit the accused provided they alone in the form of nanawatay (refuge or repentance), jora (reconciliation) or naik or bakhana (forgiveness).

Despite serious consequences, tore cases are on the rise, particularly among the Mahmund tribe. One reason is the unaffordable sar paisa (bride price), which has risen to nearly a lakh of rupees, making it impossible for many young men to find brides.

The following true incidents illustrate the strong social compulsions which ensure that the punishment for tore invariable falls upon the woman, while the man may get away with the offence.

In the mahmund tribe, two friends, Hashim and Sahibzada, made a pledge that when their children were born, if one was a boy and one was a girl, they would be married. After having a son Hashim went to inquire about the sex of Shibzada's newborn. Shibzada, having second thoughts about the pledge, lied and said he had also had a son.

Suspicious, Hashim went to the cradle and unwrapped the baby's swaddling clothes. Infuriated, Sahibzada shot him. Later, the jirga gave its verdict against Hashim, saying he had no right to touch a female, even though she was only a week old.

A girl named Noor Bibi from Khaar developed a liking for her neighbour, Miangul. Time and again Noor Bibi's mother accepted gifts from Miangul, thus showing interest in his proposal for her daughter. Her father, unaware of this, accepted a marriage proposal from someone in Tangi. Afraid to defy him, both women kept silent, but on the eve of the wedding, Noor Bibi eloped with Miangul and took refuge in her uncle's house.

Without giving his guests an inkling, the host informed Noor Bibi's father. Miangul escaped, but Noor Bibi was dragged into a cornfield, where her as she clung to her father's feet, begging for mercy.

According to tribal tradition, a woman accused of tore is to be shot by her father. Before being shot, she kneels down and asks forgiveness by uttering the following words: “ Zama day salaam wee” (a salaam-cum-apology). The father is expected to carry out the execution to uphold the family honour. If he hesitates, the woman's in-laws put an end to her life, as their honour is at stake too.

Her janaza (funeral) is attended only by a handful of relatives in order to deprive the deceased of respect and funerary rites. Nobody goes for condolences; in fact, the girl's father is congratulated by everyone for having preserved his honour.

Zahida Bibi, from a family of weavers, was washing clothes near a stream when Saz Din, known for his fiery temper as Machine (derived from machinegun) stopped to gaze at her. When he grabbed at her dress, she tore herself away and ran home.

Knowing she would now be considered unclean despite her innocence, for once in her life she mustered the courage to decide her own future: she asked her husband to kill her, to save the family from a life of dishonour and shame, and to seek revenge from Saz Din.

Her husband led her outside and shot her under a mulberry tree. Saz Din still roams about unharmed; he enjoys a higher standing in society that the weaver.

Not every family can afford a separate hujra (men's section) in their house. Once, a guest was spending a night with a family in Barang Valley in their single-room house, enjoying the melmastiya (hospitality) showered upon him. In the morning, the host noticed a black louse creeping on the guest's neck. Suspecting that such a louse could only belong to a woman, he shot the guest and his own wife.

The husband of Naheeda Begum of Kharkano suspected that a packet of dry fruit she had was given to her by a paramour. Without hearing her side of the story, he shot her dead.

A matiza (a woman who has eloped) must be dealt with sternly. She is hounded the world over until her dead body is displayed as a proof that honour was preserved. Mahmooda Bibi from Batai was shot by her husband and father-in-law. Her eyes, which were still wide open, were brutally pierced by the men of the house with iron rods in an attempt to shut them. When these rituals were over, her body was sent to her father's house.

Some Pathan men are experts at generating a strained atmosphere at home, taking out their frustrations on their intimidated wives. The husband of Shazmin, mother of six, constantly reminded her how much he abhorieed her, and how his precious youth was being wasted on her. One day, he shot her during a domestic quarrel.

It is popularly believed that if one is killed innocent, the face of the deceased glows. When Shazmin's body was taken to her father's house, the villagers marveled. She is still remembered as a shaheeda (martyr).

Her husband later brought a nanawatay (apology) to her father, saying that he had been mad with rage when he shot her. The family, being weak and having no other choice, accepted the apology.

Gulnaz's husband worked in Karachi , while she lived with her inlaws. She asked permission to visit her brother-in-law. When she continued pleading, he enraged brother-in-law shot her dead.

Gulnaz's father protested, but the jirga ruled that in the absence of her husband her brother-in-law was master of the situation. The murderer paid R. 3,000 a tin of cooking oil, a bag of wheat and a lamb as nanawatay and was honourably acquitted.

Abandoned women are taken back reluctantly by families who fear payghore (ridicule). Zarmin of village Manoo Deari was abandoned by her husband, who refused to divorce her but snet her home. Living there, she used to fetch water from a nearby spring which was also used by a security guard from a check post above it.

One day, Zarmin disappeared for almost 24 hours. Stories began to circulate linking her with the security guard. When she came home, she did not say a word in reply to the questions thrown at her.

The men of the family asked the authorities to hand over the security guard, but instead he was transferred. Zarmin, however, did not escape her fate. An electric cable was wound around her naked body, and current flowed through her for half an hour, until her anguished pleas to be shot were accepted by her brother. No one knows whether she committed any sin or not.

Amidst the graves at an old cemetery in Nawagai one comes across the grave of Memunai. The tragic tale of a woman who was killed by her husband over a pack of tobacco is related as a legend, glorified by poets and melodiously rendered by singers. It can be heard in public vehicles, shops and hujras.

Memunai, daughter of a Khan, was famous for her beauty. The innumerable proposals which came for her were refused, as she was to be married to She Alam, her cousin. After marriage, Memunai warned Sher Alam against one of his cousins, whose intentions toward her she distrusted. The conversation was overheard by the spiteful cousin, who made a pledge to himself that he would have Memunai murdered by her own husband.

One day when Sher Alam was away, some guests staying in his hujra ran out of tobacco. One Khalil was sent to the house to get it. He knocked at the door, unaware that he was being followed by the evil-minded cousin. From behind the door, Memunai handed him some tobacco as a gesture of melmastiya. This was enough evidenc for the cousin to make up a malicious story.

When her enraged husband confronted her, Memunai denied all wrong doing but asserted (in the words of poet Wali Mohammad):

“I am not at all afraid of death

as I am a true Pathan woman, my dear.”

Then, to avoid payghore, the mighty Sher Alam slit his wife's throat with a dagger.

Like any other man-made code, rawaj is not flawless. It provides protection for the tribal woman as a modest daughter, an enduring wife, and an authoritative mother-in-law, but not as a human being.

Despite the verse of the Holy Quran which stipulates, “Should any of your women commit some sexual offence, collect evidence about them from four [person] among yourselves,” women are being butchered in the name of honour for minor breaches of etiquette by impatient, suspicious, wrathful husbands who abuse the authority enjoined by Islam to maintain order in the family.

The incidents related above are real and took place over the last two years. The names have been changed to respect the anonymity of those involved.