Qiwamah and Wilayah & Women's Lived Realities
AT ONE GLANCE
Population 65,100,000
(World Bank, 2015)
Total fertility rate 1.9
children born per woman
(WEF, 2015)
Child marriage Data not available
(UNICEF, 2016)
Maternal mortality ratio (per 100,000 live births)
8 (WEF, 2015)
Life expectancy at birth
83 years for females,
79 years for males
(World Bank, 2014)
Religions (2010) The majority of the population is Christian (71.1%) alongside Muslim (4.4%), Hindu (1.3%), Buddhist (0.4%), Jewish (0.5%) and unaffiliated (21.3%) minorities (Pew, 2012)
Literacy rate 99% for
women and 99% for men
(WEF, 2015)
Labour force participation (female, male)
70%, 82% (WEF, 2015)
The UK Life Stories Project was undertaken by Mussurut Zia, a representative of the non-governmental women’s rights organization Muslim Women’s Network UK. The MWNUK was formally established in 2003 with the support of the Women’s National Commission to give independent advice to the Government on issues relating to Muslim women and public policy. In 2007, MWNUK decided to establish itself as an independent non-profit national organization to ensure that the concerns and voices of Muslim women and girls reached decision-makers.
The main goal of the Life Stories Project in the UK was to create space for critical and participatory feminist learning about Muslim legal tradition and gender norms. This was accomplished through a series of conceptual workshops held in different regions in England with Muslim British women from different communities that focused on what qiwamah and wilayah meant, how to trace them in uncodified religious laws and cultural norms, and reflections on women’s lived realities. The UK documentation included life stories of four British Muslim women from South Asian communities whose experiences demonstrated the multiple challenges faced by women in these communities.
Resource Persons*
Rafeeqa (46 years old)
is a married mother of one daughter. Born in the UK to immigrant parents from Pakistan, she was forced into marriage at a very young age and faced abuse in this marriage that led to divorce. She faced disapproval from her family and community during the divorce process and because she had previously married and divorced twice. Rafeeqa eventually met her current husband and built a healthy and egalitarian relationship with him. She is currently working in a women’s refuge.
Nijat (32 years old)
is a well-educated single woman. She is a third-generation Pakistani Muslim born and living in the UK. Throughout her life, she has faced intense pressure from immediate and extended family members to conform to traditional gender roles. She overcame these obstacles by constantly negotiating her rights to education, to work, to live alone and to choose her partner. She currently works as a sales manager.
Sumera (55 years old)
is an educated mother of four children. She is the child of one of the first Pakistani immigrants to settle in the mill towns of England. Her parents and extended family pressured her to marry her cousin in an arranged marriage. She currently works as a civil servant, contributes to the household finances, and manages the household and family affairs.
Shadiya (38 years old)
is an educated mother of four children. Born in the UK to immigrant parents from Pakistan, she was engaged in an arranged marriage to her cousin. Throughout her marriage she has faced the abusive authority of her husband and extended family while struggling to pursue her education and to exercise her right to work and to control her earnings.
*Note that all of the resource persons’ names have been changed to protect their identities and that most of the quotations and stories have been translated, edited and condensed for clarity.
Navigating Gender Roles in Minority Communities
Britain has a long history of welcoming immigrants but dramatic changes took place following the end of World War II and the establishment of the Commonwealth. The influx of ‘non-white’ migrants coming from beyond Europe transformed British society into a complex multi-ethnic entity. In the 1980s, this led to the implementation of a British multiculturalism inspired by the American and Canadian models, which recognizes and supports the distinctive identities of the country’s cultural and ethnic groups. However, minority cultures or religions can be discriminatory towards women, and can clash with the norm of gender equality that is endorsed by state laws.
All of the UK resource persons are from Muslim South Asian communities and are vulnerable to multiple layers of discrimination due to their ethnicity, sex and religion. Rafeeqa, Nijat, Sumera and Shadiya were all subjected to cultural and religious expectations of gender roles, which often constrained their life choices and personal development as daughters, wives and mothers. The men in the community believed they had the right and the moral duty to control their wives and daughters and that the latter should not be given autonomy, as this would lead them to transgress against the norms of their families and communities. The experiences of all four resource persons demonstrated control of women with respect to their education, career, clothing and friends. For instance, Nijat’s rights to make free and informed choices about her own education, career and marriage were constrained by her gender. As a daughter she was expected to cook and do household chores, and was not allowed to walk to school alone or hang out with friends. Her father was always concerned that she might do something to compromise the honour of the family.
The issue of honour (izzat) was a common trend in the documented life stories, where the burden was often placed on women to safeguard the family name and reputation. For instance, Shadiya was not allowed to pursue her education but rather was taught how to be a good wife and maintain the honour of her father and her husband. Married at an early age, she believed that her role was to go along with everything her husband and his family said. As a result, she was unable to confront her husband when her daughter was taken from her and sent to Pakistan to be raised by her mother-in-law.
She eventually managed to pursue her education and to bargain for her right to work. Yet, as a mother, Shadiya perpetuates some of the patriarchal expectations and behaviours in the education of her daughters. Not only does she dictate their way of dressing and choice of education, she has also secretly identified a marriage partner in Pakistan for her 14-year-old daughter. For Shadiya, it is important that the wider community recognizes her ability to make marriage arrangements for her daughters, which is considered an outward sign of good parenting. This illustrates how patriarchal norms are sometimes perpetuated by women as they bargain for power and privileges within the patriarchal structure, often to the detriment of younger, less powerful girls and women.
Although all the resource persons played important financial roles in their households and extended families, they were still subjected to their parents’ or husbands’ authority and control. For instance, Nijat has managed to pursue her education and to work and live on her own while providing for her parents and brothers. Yet, her parents still tried to control her movements and impose their conditions on the choice of her partner even though she was in her 30s. Shadiya and Sumera were only allowed to work because their husbands realized that their wives’ incomes would free up their own money and serve their purposes. Unlike traditional expectations of gender roles, both served as the main providers for their families. While Shadiya was expected to account for her earnings and to justify her expenses to her husband, Sumera’s economic autonomy gave her a stronger voice in the decision-making process, particularly with regard to her children and their future.
Transnational Arranged Marriages & Migration
Transnational arranged marriage is an important issue in South Asian migrant communities in the United Kingdom. According to Home Office research on marriage-related migration to the UK (2011), the Indian subcontinent has long accounted for the largest proportion of migrant spouses in the UK (41% of all grants of settlement in 2009). The majority of these marriages are arranged or semi-arranged marriages between cousins or more distant relatives. Motivated by multiple factors, these marriages provide an opportunity to forge ties with the country of origin by helping relatives while demonstrating family honour and maintaining family assets. Yet these practices often negatively impact women’s autonomy and life choices, as reflected in Rafeeqa, Shadiya, Sumera and Nijat’s life experiences.
The stories show that two main motivations for arranged transnational marriages are to marry off the daughters to protect the family honour, and to maintain and build transnational family-based support networks and resources. Several of the resource persons conveyed the feeling of being a burden on their parents that could be relieved through marriage. For instance, Rafeeqa’s grandfather arranged her marriage and that of her sister’s without their consent. She had her religious marriage (nikah) in Pakistan at the age of 15 to a man she had not known or heard of before. This marriage and her subsequent two marriages resulted in abusive relationships, with the husbands only wanting to gain legitimate rights to remain in the UK and access UK citizenship.
Sumera said that her marriage of 38 years to her paternal cousin was arranged only to benefit their families. Her parents wanted to get rid of the burden of a daughter and her husband’s family wanted to get him to England, so he and they could have a prosperous future. Similarly, Nijat was constantly pressured by her father to accept an arranged marriage to a relative in Pakistan. When one prospect died, his mother reminded Nijat’s father that she had another son who was also suitable for marriage. This illustrates the idea of daughters being a door of entry and economic opportunity for male relatives abroad.
In the stories, the transnational marriages resulted in marital tensions related to economic contributions to the country of origin and the omnipresence of extended family. For instance, Nijat is the child of a transnational arranged marriage. Not only did her father’s family in Pakistan have a strong influence on their daily lives, they also utilized her father’s and her nuclear family’s resources. While Nijat went to a state school and her nuclear family struggled to make a living in the UK, her father was paying for her (boy) cousins’ private education in Pakistan.
When economic welfare was the main drive for marriage, the husbands in the stories often prioritized their family back home over the family they created through marriage. For example, Sumera’s husband regularly transferred money and visited his family in Pakistan, and she felt he even prioritized his brother’s children over his own. She resented the fact that despite this financial support, her husband’s family did not bother to call them or to build relationships with their children. This resentment grew when her husband wanted to fulfil his mother’s wishes of marrying their daughter to her nephew. Sumera was strong enough to break the cycle by preventing her husband from using their daughter as another means to benefit his family back home.
Women Speak : Nijat’s Life Story
Childhood: controlled by a dominating father
From a very young age, I realized that the only person in charge was my Dad. When I was about 10 years old, I used to steal sweets from our own shop and store them in a bag under my bed. One day, my dad found the bag and smacked me, all the way up the stairs, asking for an explanation. My mum couldn’t stop him from yelling at me, shouting at me or beating me. He was the man in charge and she would do whatever he said.
I think that’s when the understanding first kicked in that nobody else was ever going to be in charge. When I started high school, my Dad didn’t approve of me walking home, so he picked me up and dropped me off. I was never allowed to go on school trips or to hang out with friends. I found this unfair. My friends were allowed to go wherever they wanted and do things I couldn’t. My brother, Ishafaq, was as scared of my Dad as I was. I remember towards the end of high school, Ishafaq wanted to shave. However, my Dad said no, so my brother had to keep his facial hair.
When I was 15, I started rebelling against my dad. I had seen him hit my Mum and thought somebody had to stand up to him. However, I soon realized that my Mum was getting the backlash for my behaviour. My Dad would say, “If Nijat is not behaving well then it’s your fault, because she’s your daughter.”
I did not understand why he acted like this. As I got older I realized that it was his fear of me taking away his izzat (honour) that drove his behaviour. I remember, when I just started Sixth Form, he told me, “Just remember that every time you leave this house you’re carrying the respect of the whole family in your hands— if anything happens, the onus is on you.”
When I reached college-age, my dad became obsessive. He had to know where I was at every moment, my timetable and when I had free periods. However, he was happy for me to attend St Wilfred’s for Sixth Form, as there weren’t many South Asian people there to observe me. It was only about him and his reputation—not about protecting me.
In the meantime, my relationship with my Mum was getting a lot better. I remember whenever Dad went for his annual holiday to Pakistan, everyone was relieved. We would get up early, there would be music playing, there were no instructions telling me to be home by a certain time, to make sure that my Dad’s dinner was ready, etc. I realized how different things were when he was away. But whenever he returned from Pakistan, he was even worse. He believed more so than usual that everyone should be a slave to his needs.
Marriage, studies and identities
When I was 17, my Dad wanted to take me to Pakistan to get married. This created many arguments in the house. My Mum was adamant that my life wasn’t going to be a replica of hers and was therefore insistent that I get an education. I wasn’t party to these conversations but was told bits of them. At that time, I felt much more supported and that I had someone on my side who understood me. I kept hoping for my Mum to remain strong, as she was the only one who could stand up for me; otherwise my fate would be sealed. When I informed my parents that I wanted go to Manchester University and do a degree in Social Work, my mum agreed straightaway but my dad did not. He told her, “You got what you wanted, she’s been to college, now it’s time for her to get married.”
To keep the peace, I gave up my dream of social work and instead went to Blackburn College. I was out of my comfort zone because I was different. I had been pulled out of a predominantly white Christian school and thrust into a College with a majority of Asian Muslims with many diverse complexities regarding culture and identity. I lasted three months before I opted to leave. This was the start of a new relationship with my Dad. He agreed to let me go to Preston University, to go with my Mum to a mixed gym, and he accepted a new friend of mine and allowed me to go to her house. I wondered why he was fine with my friend, and then realized it was because her father had arrived in the UK around the same time as he. Maybe all the people who arrived at the same time shared the same fears and felt they needed to control their children and prevent their exposure to these ills in society.
There was a time when my Dad wanted to go back to Pakistan and take us all with him. He was insistent on all of us obtaining our dual nationality so that when they kicked us out we would be able to go back to Pakistan without difficulty. I found this a thoroughly ludicrous thought and didn’t understand it at all. I’m a British citizen. Why am I ever going to be kicked out?!
Who provides and who protects?
My Dad did not value his home life. Yes, he worked and earned money, but a large percentage of his income went to his family overseas. I discovered that while I had been attending a state sixth-form college and school, he had been paying for private education for his nephews in Pakistan. I remember thinking that he was supposed to be my guardian and protector but he failed to do that. He was protecting and supporting his family in Pakistan when we were struggling to make a future for ourselves.
My Dad was very concerned with his external image, and my Mum’s going out to work went against it. He was happy for her to earn money, he just didn’t want her to be visibly working because then it could appear that he was inadequate in other people’s eyes. But my mum’s income freed up his money and he could send it all abroad. Islamically, the money earned by my mum was hers to keep. I think the reason she didn’t do it was to make her life a little bit more bearable and to take care of her children because our Dad didn’t. Until this day I haven’t seen any of my Dad’s money; he’s never supported me.
I never ever felt that my Dad carried out his role and responsibilities. My Mum was doing all the shopping and cooking, calling and phoning people when things needed fixing. I don’t remember my Dad doing anything apart from maintaining his own car or engaging in his own social activities. To the outside world it would definitely not have appeared this way. People admired my dad, saying how well he managed his home and family and how hard he worked. But he only got there because my Mum held her own and supported us. Many times he blamed extended family rifts on my Mum and her working too. Extended family members would discuss the fact that she was out, she was getting ideas, and she was becoming disobedient and standing up to her husband.
The building of trust
I wanted a job while I was at university. We had to break this idea to my dad very slowly, in a manner that would be acceptable to him. In fact, I had been working for three or four weeks before I told him. His response was surprising—he was very relaxed about it. Why had he changed? Then I realized it’s because he trusted me and knew I was not going to do anything wrong. After this my dad and I started talking and slowly began to build a relationship. But in the background he still talked about marrying me to his cousin in Pakistan after I finished university. He was being good to me because he wanted something at the end of it.
My graduation was a killer! I didn’t want to go but my dad was insistent, to the point where he wanted the DVD, the photographs, my gown, etc. On the day, he was the proudest man there. I remember saying to myself, “Why are you so proud, what have you done? Nothing. You’ve paid for my hat, you’ve paid for my gown, and you’ve run around for the DVD? Wow, big deal!” Some time later, the person my dad had originally wanted me to marry died in an accident. For my mum there was a sense of relief because the threat had passed. Far from it: the dead boy’s mother had another son who was suitable. By this time my relationship with my dad was much better and we were comfortable talking with each other, to the point where I could tell him where he was wrong.
While I was at university, I met somebody I wanted to marry. My mum agreed to put it to my dad, but we had to strategically plan how we were going to tell him. In the end it never happened—maybe it wasn’t meant to be—but this experience made my relationship with my mum a bit different as well. I think my mum is trying to sort something out for my marriage, though my dad has said to me, “If there is somebody that you like then just let us know, as long as he treats you right it will be okay.” But I feel he still has prerequisites for this person, like he must be of a high caste, he cannot live too far away and he has to be Pakistani.
Trials of singlehood
If anyone is protecting me it is Allah. I have moments where my faith dips— I’m not going to lie about it—but I always come back to it. It’s the one thing that’s always there for me. Nobody has ever protected me, so I have to protect myself. I don’t trust anyone and I don’t think anyone will protect me even in the future. I’m at the stage now where I’m just confused about everything. My dad has allowed me to live away from home, but now my mum’s turned the other way and is protecting the family’s name and reputation. She says things like, “If you meet a man for the purpose of marriage don’t tell him you’re living away from home, because then he will think you’re not a good Pakistani girl.” These are the sorts of things my dad used to say and she used to challenge, and now she’s saying them. My brother’s wife now has to fight for those very things that my mum fought with her husband about. It’s strange how their roles shifted. My mum is now the person in the family that we go to when major decisions have to be made. My dad’s opinion no longer matters.
At this moment, my family and I don’t get on very well. They don’t agree with my views and I still feel they don’t value my opinion. However, some things have changed. For instance, Ishafaq, who was very quiet and wasn’t close to me, now says that I am the only one he can confide in. Yasser always comes to me before he makes a decision to get my approval or opinion. Do you need to be married to be able to give good advice, can a single person not do it, and does marriage give you a licence to be able to offer advice and support? I don’t think so! But I know that the community thinks I’m not qualified to support other women; it’s because there is no man in my life. I’m not married, therefore I don’t know anything.
I often justify the fact that I’m not married to myself more than others. The main reason I think that I’m still single is because my family needs me to be at home. However, it can’t carry on indefinitely, and within the next few years I’m going to have to secure myself a husband who will treat me with respect and as an equal, not the way my dad did with my mum—a husband whose priorities are his wife and his children and not his mum and his brothers and sisters all the time. It has been, and still is, immensely difficult to defy the cultural norms and expectations, but I have been strong; in fact, one of my biggest fears is losing that inner strength. My principles and my beliefs mean a great deal to me. I know many people from our community and extended family and friends think I’m westernized, which is seen as a bad thing, but I think it is ridiculous. There are many girls that I know from my own community and religion who are doing all the things that they shouldn’t do, but are not seen as deficient as me because they’re married. I know I am different but not in a bad way. I pray, I respect my parents, but I don’t embrace the whole community and society’s expectations.
In my opinion an ideal family would be the exact opposite of what all of us are here. I know we all like to think we are equal but we are not. I would like to take my family exactly how it is and give them the ability to discuss things openly, where everyone is valued equally. I don’t think we will ever be equal as women—how many years have women fought for rights and still not got them? When we still have people like my mum turn around and change after so many years, we will always have inequality. We could have had a demonstration of equality if mum had stayed where she was in terms of fighting for equality, and dad had met her partway. Instead we’ve always had one who has power—my dad has come down a step, and my mum has stepped up to take over the control and power.
Gender Equality
The right to equality before the law is a common law principle and is guaranteed by the European Convention on Human Rights. Despite this set of legal guarantees, discriminatory practices against women, ethnic, religious and other minorities persist. The political culture still views women’s equality as an accomplished goal in modern Britain although the following facts show otherwise. In 2015, British women were paid less than men for the same job; the gender pay gap has increased to 13.9% from 10.5% in 2011. Because women continue to play a greater role in caring for their children and elderly relatives, they tend to work in precarious, low-paid and socially unprotected roles, either part-time (38% female vs 11% male employment) or in the informal sector (four out of six informal workers are female).
The UK ranks among the worst countries in Europe in terms of violence suffered by women in their lifetimes (5th in 2014). The proportion of women affected—44%—is far above the European average of 33%. At least one in four British women experiences domestic violence in her lifetime and one in eight experiences it annually. Finally, women are still underrepresented in the political field at both the national and local levels. In 2015, women held only 22% of Parliamentary seats, 23% of ministerial positions and 32% of local councillor positions in England.
Political & Legal System
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is a constitutional monarchy and a parliamentary democracy. Since 1999, the process of devolution has transferred varying levels of power from the UK Parliament to the devolved institutions of Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland, forming distinct jurisdictions and legislation. The principal sources of UK law that apply in the whole territory are: legislation (enacted by the UK Parliament), case law (made by the courts), European Union law, and the European Convention on Human Rights (which has been incorporated into UK domestic law by the Human Rights Act of 1998). Although the UK ratified CEDAW in April 1986, treaties are not binding unless incorporated by legislation, which has not yet been done.
Although the UK does not have a written constitution, its unwritten constitutional law prohibits gender-based discrimination. Women and men have equal rights and duties in marriage and divorce under civil law. Polygamy is illegal, custody is based on the welfare of the child, and division of property upon divorce recognizes women’s unpaid contributions to the family. In 2007, the UK enacted the Forced Marriage (Civil Protection) Act, which enables courts to prevent forced marriages. In 2014, the Forced Marriage Unit saw about 1,300 cases, many involving Muslim women, with one in eight victims under the age of 16.
In theory, Muslim women in Britain have the same rights as other women. However, many are subject to uncodified laws, customs and traditions of their families and communities, or even laws of other countries if they marry or have children abroad. This implies many possible conflicts of laws, and women often lack protection within marriages and upon divorce.
