Cross-Cutting Trends
In addition to the family law issues that have surfaced in stories across the countries, there are a number of cross-cutting trends common to many of the resource persons: (1) experiences with male authority within families and within society, (2) parental relationships influencing resource persons’ views and (3) heightened tensions and questions about their personal identities.
Experiences with and Relations to Male Authority
Manifestations of male authority over females could be seen throughout the life stories documented in this project, and several trends were common across countries, classes and life circumstances. In particular, the stories showed that when religion was used to justify male dominance and such dominance was further sanctified in law, then the values, attitudes and understandings of men’s authority over women became a natural part of life and were very difficult to challenge. Even women who faced difficult circumstances in relation to male authority found it difficult to break away from an entrenched belief that men were natural leaders and providers. Many thus continued to suffer in unhappy marriages or willingly entered polygamous marriages in order to conform to dominant social norms and supposed religious injunctions.
Men are often presumed—by wives, daughters, other men and society in general—to hold authority within a family. Norms about male authority are implicitly and explicitly taught at home, in schools, in the media and in religious communities.
Sumera from the United Kingdom, who had an arranged marriage when she was 16, reflects:
As a young girl I don’t recall any particular time that I was told who held the authority in our house. I always assumed it was my dad, and this made sense to me. It seemed a natural order of things; dad was the person in charge and mum kept things in order.
With regard to her husband, Sumera says:
Despite taking the lead and managing all aspects of our family life, I could never be seen or recognized as being the head of the household because I am a woman. The head of a household has to be the man; this was decided/expected by the family, society and cultural and religious norms, which all expect him to fulfil this role and carry out all his responsibilities.
Wati from Malaysia internalized gender roles related to protection and obedience based on lessons she learned in her family and school:
In our household affairs, my father was seen as the head of the family. All decisions were made and determined by him. Mother just had to comply without saying much. She has been like that for as long as I can remember. Her attitude and reaction towards my father somehow shaped my view of the opposite sex. That is why I still look up to and respect my brother even though he is younger than I am—because he is a man. My brother, on the other hand, has to protect my safety. These are the values that have been embedded in my family. Men have the priority and must be respected while women have to be protected.
Even in school, the ustazah (female religious teacher) almost always emphasized that men were the leaders of the family. The responsibility to earn a living and support the family financially lies on the shoulders of the husband. The wife’s responsibilities are to manage the household chores and take care of the children.
Men use their roles as authority figures in many ways: to control family assets, to maintain what they considered to be their own and the family’s honour, to control women’s movements and to consolidate power.
Rafia from Bangladesh was influenced by the egalitarian relationship of her parents and by male and female role-models in the literature she read. After her father died from a sudden heart attack, Rafia witnessed her two older brothers fighting both for assets and for authority within the family because they felt that a man should be the household’s natural head.
Nasibah from Iran has always felt dominated by her father and the controlling role he plays in her family. She notices how he views men and women differently, that “women’s word is not worth anything [but] men’s word is worth listening to”, that her mother “does not dare object”, and that “he doesn’t care what you say because he is a man and you are a woman”. She would like to get married, and sees marriage as a way to escape from her father’s authority, but her father, as wali, will not give his consent. She reflects: “Getting married is a misfortune for many women but not for me, as I have limitations now living under my dad’s domination.
Sara from Egypt feels that her father needs to maintain control over her, even as she becomes more independent:
My relationship with my father is full of ups and downs, and the more spaces I gain in terms of my independence the more he becomes violent. It never develops to physical violence, but he is aggressive and violent verbally. He wants to demonstrate that I won’t be accepted within the family with the lifestyle I am adopting. He really cares about his social image and my behaviour defies that image.
In many of the stories, men considered to be women’s guardians did not serve as the protectors of the women and girls in their lives. Instead, the women and girls were subject to abuse and challenges—both from the outside world and from the men themselves—while the ‘guardians’ stood idly by.
Ranu from Bangladesh was not protected by her father, her stepfather, her uncles or either of her husbands. Her father allowed her stepmother to be abusive towards her and her sister, and then tried to abandon the girls. Ranu found a job as a domestic worker and her employer arranged a marriage for her. She found out later that her husband had several wives in different places, and he repeatedly abandoned her. Her child was taken from her by the family whom she had trusted to care for him while she worked. When her husband reappeared, she took him back and fell pregnant again. And then he disappeared for good. Ranu narrates:
I was in a complete state. I had lost my child, was abandoned by my husband again and was living in the slum, pregnant and alone. My pregnancy prevented me from taking up a job. At night, men would bang on the door, throw rocks at my window. During day time when I went out, they would make vulgar propositions and say bad things to my face. I decided I had to marry again. I needed protection. The child I was carrying would have to have a father
Shafira from Indonesia suffered after her mother died when she was six and then her father died when she was 13. No one stepped up to be her guardian. Although she lived with an uncle and aunt, they treated her like a housemaid and not as a peer to their five children. She had to do heavy housework in addition to her studies, and her uncle did not provide clothes, uniforms, textbooks, etc.
All of the resource persons in Nigeria were subject to child marriage, with their guardians marrying them off for money or power rather than protecting them.
At the same time, some of the resource persons talked about or implied that they wanted or needed a man or a male authority figure in their lives for protection, even if the men did not fulfil those responsibilities.
Sultana from Bangladesh felt a need for male protection several times in her life. After her father died, she and her teenage sister were harassed because they had no male guardian. Later, Sultana needed to rely on her employer to help arrange both her marriage and then her divorce.
Samina, who is originally from India but eventually settled in Canada, found that she needed male protection when she was trying to run a beauty centre as a divorcee:
There were these police guys who would come to the centre and insist that the women do massages for them. We were all women at that centre and I felt very insecure. I felt the need for a man to protect me. And I guess I thought, here is this man who likes me and if I marry him I would have that security/protection/respect of a married woman, and not be a divorcee whom men want to take advantage of.
Nisrina, an Indonesian migrant worker who worked in Saudi Arabia three times, was physically and sexually abused by several male employers, and then was cheated by an older Saudi man who married her, spent a week with her and divorced her three weeks later. Yet she longed for the companionship and protection of a husband:
I hope God would forgive me and forgive everyone who believes in Him. I hope God would not punish me; I hope I will find a husband—a Muslim who can teach me religion. Those are my hopes now. To have someone who will always protect me, someone who can shower me with love.
Ranu from Bangladesh, as quoted above, decided she needed to marry again to gain protection for herself and her unborn child.
Generational Forces: The Influence of Parental Relationships on Children
One common thread throughout the stories, regardless of country, age or class of the resource persons, was how the dynamics of parental relationships— positive or negative—had a strong impact on the resource persons’ lives and choices.
Several of the resource persons pointed to the egalitarian relationships of their parents as inspiring them to strive for egalitarianism in their own marriages.
Rafia from Bangladesh spoke of how her parents considered themselves equals and shared everything with each other. They treated all of their children with equal love and respect, both emotionally and materially, with her father often stating that all of the family’s property must be divided equally among the children. Their relationship was a model for Rafia of how husbands and wives should interact with and treat each other.
Naeema, whose family emigrated to Canada from Pakistan when she was 11 years old, talked about how her parents were open and accepting and shared decision-making. Her father supported her mother in her studies and work, and her father supported both his male and female children in their studies. She says of her parents:
As for decision-making, I would say it was done jointly. So, for example, when they were buying a house, both my parents went to see the house and my father took into account what my mother thought. The decision-making was done together.
Naeema thus thought nothing of working and supporting her husband and sharing responsibilities with him through the seven years that he was studying. Because of her upbringing and the influence of her parents’ relationship, she was shocked when, less than a year after he began earning, her husband asked her to stop working outside the home and said “as your husband you must obey me.”
Murti from Indonesia has been supported by her parents throughout her life, which has allowed her to believe in herself, take strong stances and have enough confidence to take on leadership roles within her community and eventually as village chief.
Lola from Malaysia shared that her parents both contributed to the household income, with her mother primarily supporting the family from her work in the private sector and her businessman father bringing in irregular income from his government contracts. Her father’s flexible hours meant he would pick the children up from school, cook and work with the children—boys and girls—to clean the house. When her brother’s friends made fun of the fact that he washed dishes and cleaned the house, her father told her brother he should be proud of shouldering the equal responsibility. Lola and her husband followed her parents’ model, with both contributing income and sharing household chores.
Several of the resource persons whose mothers were married at young ages reported that this influenced their own lives and ideas on marriage.
Noreen from Canada explained that her parents had an arranged marriage, and a 25-year age gap between them. Noreen’s mother helped her father build the business, working alongside him night and day, and was a real partner to him. But the age difference impacted on their relationship, with her husband always in control and always expecting his young wife to wait on him. Noreen says:
My mother was forced to marry my dad at the age of 14 and was so unhappy that she wasn’t an easy person to get on with. She gave birth to me when she was 15½ years old. Her requests for a divorce never yielded results, so when she threatened to walk out of the marriage and showed it by packing her things, she received her divorce letter. She wasn’t allowed to take me with her.
Murja grew up with little contact with her mother and was also forced to marry at a young age. But when Murja remarried after divorce and had to send her young daughter to live with a relative, she made sure the daughter knew her side of the family so that she and her family could continue to support her daughter despite not having custody of her.
In a few cases, parents’ relationships influenced how resource persons approached marriage and divorce.
Amina from Canada shares that her parents’ divorce when she was 15 had an effect on her thinking about her own marriage:
My mother’s marriage ended when I was 15. I remember her saying, not to me, but to other women, how it was important for women to have their own financial resources, because if this kind of thing happens, you’re going to need it...And I remember thinking I’m not going to have to worry about that, because my life is going to be different.
Amina’s marriage was up and down, and she finally decided to leave after her husband married a second wife and she realized how differently she was treated as a convert. She was also fearful that he would marry their daughters off at young ages. So she packed their things and left, after not having worked in years and with only a fraction of the mahr she had negotiated. She found herself in the exact situation her mother had warned about.
Relationship anxieties passed from parents to resource persons, but also from resource persons to their own children. Asih from Indonesia had an unhappy childhood, with a strict, domineering mother and a father who did not always act in her best interests. Asih was pushed to marry before she was ready because her younger brother wanted to marry and custom dictated that older siblings should marry first. But her marriage grew increasingly hostile, with huge screaming arguments and her husband throwing and destroying furniture. Once they had a son, Asih became concerned about the effect of these arguments on him:
My son often saw us fighting, from when we screamed and yelled at each other to the physical abuses. L. often threw things at me, and I remember L. tried to strangle me...Since then my son became a quiet kid and very introverted. His face often looked sullen and he rarely laughed even when he saw something funny. This was because of the trauma from witnessing all the violence. I consulted a psychiatrist who said that with time and maturity, his personality would change by itself. Thank God, now he has shown progress and has started to be more open.
As discussed previously, several of the resource persons discussed how their parents’ polygamous relationships influenced their views on polygamy and the roles they felt they needed to play in their marriages.
As recounted above, Shafira from Indonesia felt that her life changed dramatically when her father married a second wife, and Lola from Malaysia was influenced by her grandmother, who felt devastated and betrayed when her grandfather married a second wife and gave her some of their marital assets.
Adu from the Gambia shares:
I am from a Muslim family. My father was a polygamist when my mother married my father. My mother was taken advantage of and abused. This showed that my father has not been fair. I vowed not to marry a man who has more than one wife.
Questions about Identity
Many of the stories demonstrate the tensions resource persons experienced because of conflicts they perceive between religious, state, community, family and personal expectations, values and priorities. Women are subject to multiple contradictory ideas about how they should act, dress, think and feel, and have to sort through rulings from religious leaders whose opinions sometimes differ one from another. They also have to deal with state laws, regulations and incentives, whether secular or religious; community and cultural attitudes and gender dynamics, made more complex based on who the subject is (age, sex, marital status, convert, etc.); family needs and objectives; a woman’s own understandings of her faith; and her own hopes, desires and aspirations. These are compounded by socioeconomic conditions and situations, and what needed to be done for individual and family survival.
While tensions related to identity were more explicit for resource persons in minority communities in the UK and Canada, they could be seen in stories from most of the countries.
Rafia from Bangladesh felt conflicted about her life circumstances because of the tensions she was experiencing on many fronts: her belief in egalitarian relationships, based on her parents’ model, versus the tussles for authority she witnessed between her brothers; her internal conflicts between wanting to be independent and wanting to be taken care of; and tensions about whether she should pursue divorce and live as a single, childless woman, or stay in an unhappy and unfulfilling marriage where she was taking care of her husband financially and emotionally.
Amina, a convert from Canada who married an Arab man, experienced confusion and questions when her parents divorced during her teenage years, which led her to seek answers in different faiths and her conversion and marriage into an immigrant community at the age of 19. Throughout her 25 years of marriage, she felt divided between her personal, national and religious identities; her own understanding of Islam and what the community, religious leaders and her husband told her to believe; cultural differences and discrimination she felt against her as a convert; her own personal needs; and what she felt her children needed.
Most of the Malaysian resource persons struggled to define their roles for themselves even as families and communities set out ideals for them about when and how they should marry and relate to their husbands. Going against the norm meant risking community censure or at the very least not getting any support. For instance, Nadia reported that after her father married a much younger second wife, her mother, though attractive and fashionable with a stable and well-paying job, felt embarrassed to be a divorcee and too old to change her life completely. So she accepted the polygamous relationship. Mimi, who eventually asked for a divorce four years after her husband married a second wife, went on to have a successful career and provide support for single mothers, but she still questions what happened:
Sometimes I wonder what I have done wrong that he had to look for another wife. I had given him four beautiful kids. I never betrayed him. I was always supportive of his career. Why did he do this to me? Why? Until today, I wonder, was she better than me?
Nijat, a third generation British Pakistani, continually questions her role and identity within her family and community. Nijat’s mother was raised in Britain but was sent to Pakistan to marry; her mother and father then returned to the UK so he could finish his studies. Nijat, the only girl of four children, faced different expectations and boundaries than her brothers from an early age. Her mother protected her from early marriage in Pakistan, and she was allowed to get an education and work to earn money for her family. Her job with a call centre helped increase her self-esteem. She is now older and not yet married, and vacillates between wanting a husband and family and wanting respect for her accomplishments as a single woman.
