Let’s talk about breasts
Pinktober has arrived. This is the time when we’re reminded constantly about the ‘B’ word. It’s a word we mostly fail to look in the eye; we sweep it under the rug because we’re culturally programmed not to acknowledge it, and never to address it. The ‘B’ word, however, is one that might save a woman’s life. The ‘B’ word titillates the collective horror of the older generation that has dubbed it unspeakable, but that state of mind is the one we need to shun. And it’s about time we started talking about breasts.
Every year October is marked as breast cancer awareness month, and Pakistanis need to take up this opportunity to start discussing one of the most prevalent forms of cancer. The nation has one of the highest rates of breast cancer within Asia where one of every nine women is at risk. Around 40,000 die annually because of the disease which is largely controllable if caught early. The subcontinent’s history is painted with poets describing, celebrating, and singing praises to the female form. However, in present times there’s neither poetry nor prose dedicated to the subject. One of the biggest barriers to ridding women – young and old – of the disease is the fact that we refuse to talk about it. The biggest problem is that females within our culture are objectified and sexualised to a point where simply discussing one’s breasts would land one into a makeshift moral jail. Our social setup is one where moral policing often makes it impossible to tackle real problems. However, we need to disregard the moral police and start exchanging sentences, paragraphs, and volumes about breasts and the disease – that is the only way to tackle the pandemic.
How do you prevent a disease from occurring or spreading? Take the example of dengue in Pakistan; people go to great length to discuss preventive methods, possible medications, even tootkas which may or may not work. We discuss the life out of the subject because we don’t want it to spread, we don’t want it in our houses, we don’t want to be inflicted. But no one’s honour is being extinguished at the hands of a mosquito. And therein lies the difference. Take that into the context of breast cancer. For instance, how can we expect women to perform self-exams (which can actually help a woman figure out if something’s not right) when they don’t know what to do? Perhaps they’re going about it the wrong way or maybe there’s more information that they don’t have access to. Talking is the only way to get the information out and running. If breast cancer is detected early there’s a 90 percent chance of survival. We turn a blind eye to that chance of survival in favour of abstaining from any kind of helpful discussion on the matter. The spread of good information isn’t the only thing we need on our agenda. There’s a dire need to also address the myths and misinformation relating to breast cancer. And guess how that happens: by talking.
The Scottish government undertook a campaign that tried to bring the real picture to light. The campaign took pictures of women who had breast cancer and turned them into an advertisement. Women who had no idea how to spot breast cancer in its early stages could see the pictures and act to save their lives. Different symptoms were illustrated through the help of the campaign. Most women do not perform regular self-exams. They don’t always know what to look for even when they do. The ads were aimed at helping women recognise different symptoms. Although the ads were constructed in a non-sensationalist way they were still a bold step for the western world. And while expecting similar initiatives out of Pakistan is out of the question, we’re also light years away from having an alternative set in place. The closest we do come to addressing breast cancer are the efforts that are undertaken by ‘The Pink Ribbon Campaign’. The organisation has been around for a decade and has made a mark in terms of bringing important information to women around the country. Their most recent efforts target the youth and aim to sensitise young girls to different facets of breast cancer. The organisation reports that this form of cancer is increasing within young women – a girl as young as 19 could have the disease. For the past few years the Pink Ribbon people have taken to different colleges and universities under the HEC and talked about everything from prevention to cure. What we need is an amplification of efforts such as this one.
In Pakistan we have women more worried about the stigma attached to their cancer than helping the ones related to them figure out how to steer clear of it; better yet manage it once it becomes a reality. A mother would most likely worry more about her daughter’s lack of marriage options because of the breast cancer, and not think twice on whether she’s passed on the cancer gene (which can be tested for) to the daughter. This has basically perpetuated a mentality where we can only discuss cancer in the aftermath of the chaos it brings. We need to stop waiting for a diagnosis and start talking before the onset of the disease. The trouble is that even after prognosis all people really do is discuss the predicament a woman is in – there’s no mention of what went one with the woman’s breasts before she realised she had cancer. We will go at lengths to discuss how life has changed – loss of hair, loss of energy, loss of family in some cases – but we cannot talk about how it got to that point.
During Pinktober it would be a pleasant change if people stopped acting like simply having breasts was a taboo. We have to stamp out our obsession with shushing out and covering up the ‘B’ word. Women have breasts, sometimes women get sick because of said breasts, and women should get together and have a chat about that. At the end of the day, it will be conversations of a very private and personal nature that make any real difference.
The writer is a journalist based in Lahore. She can be emailed at [email protected]. She tweets @luavut
