- Marvia Malik has broken a door
Born to a father who is a lawyer based in London, a mother who passed away when she was four, rejected by her immediate family, given education till matric, Marvia Malik was then on her own seeking a decent living and an education. She worked as a make-up artist in a beauty parlour, and saw herself through a bachelor’s degree from Punjab University in journalism. Soon after appearing as a fashion model an advertisement for a news anchor by Kohinoor TV caught her eye. Her confidence, knowledge and poise got her the job. Kudos to Kohinoor TV for giving space to the marginalised group offering hope for a decent living.
Gender non-conformists have existed through the annals of history. Trans-genders have been regarded highly throughout the history of the subcontinent. There was nary a court without trans-genders appointed in the women quarters. They served as advisors, watchmen, generals and messengers. In an interesting piece on trans-genders, a lane in the Mehrauli’s bazaar houses, Hijron ka Khanqah with some 50 graves claimed to be those of prominent trans-genders over time.
Trans-genders were appointed in different capacities since the Ottoman Empire, as were they in Safavid and Mamluk eras. Grants were awarded to them, both in the form of land and cash. If one recalls, in Tuzk-e-Babri, the autobiography by Mughal Emperor Babar, there is a longing for a young teenage boy.
For the hijras in Pakistan, dance and song is the only way to earn a respectable living as their presence is considered auspicious on wedding and childbirth celebrations
Over time, in particular in the era of British rule, the culture of trans-genders was stigmatised as it was simply not understood by the alien rulers. Instead of appreciating differences and supporting cohabitation of different hues, the trans-gender community was marginalised and treated like a pariah where once they were equal contributing members to the society. Nabiha Meher concurs with this view when she writes a blog piece, “The British rulers in India stripped the hijras of the laws that granted them the protection they received under Muslim rulers and regarded them as a menace to society.” (Hijras – The Third Sex)
“It’s not till very recently that we were officially given ID cards. Is that enough? Why am I not given the share in my parent’s assets? Why am I and others like me cast away on the mercy of a society who rejects them yet uses them like sex toys?” asks Marvia.
“The fate of all trans-gender is the same. They are relegated to the lowest stratum of the society. They are first rejected by their family and then the society. Decent employment is denied to them. Even if one of theirs die, every Khawaja Sira has to contribute twenty or thirty rupees to arrange for a white shroud. If anyone does not have the money, they have to go to an affluent area to beg,” says Marvia.
She plans to do her masters in Mass Communications. However her voice betrays her financial insecurity that she readily expresses, “I have work, I pay for my rent, bills and food but will I ever be able to have my own roof over my head? I do not want to end up in the streets. Will the parliamentarians draft a law that if families do not wish to keep a child born who is a gender non-conformist, they should give that off spring the share of their property before casting that life out of their homes and lives?”
This raises a question in the mind. With the trans-gender community marginalised, are we not taking away their right to be contributing members of a healthy society? Nowhere does it indicate that their gender non-conformity conflicts with their ability to work as engineers, doctors, pilots, designers, so on and so forth. By ostracising a community on many levels are we creating an effective minority? Will this serve us in evolving a well-knitted community moving forward together to achieve prosperity?
The reality of the average transgender is exposed in a sad piece, “Being Transgender in Pakistan” in an interview with one such member of this community, Ashee Butt. The writer says, “Like many from her community who are abandoned by their families at an early age, Ashee sought refuge with a local hijra guru who taught her to sing and dance. These gurus act as father figures for the hijras, who are referred to locally as the guru’s ‘chailas’, or ‘followers’, and together they form intimate communities that protect and fend for each other in good and bad times.
For the hijras in Pakistan, dance and song is the only way to earn a respectable living as their presence is considered auspicious on wedding and childbirth celebrations. However, they are not treated as equals unanimously by the conservative and liberal sections of Pakistani society. They live in secluded communities with their own kind, often in extreme poverty. Most are uneducated as the notion of a transgender child being brought up in a normal household and studying in a mainstream school is not an acceptable reality. As a result they often end up on the streets dressed in flashy clothes, faces caked with make-up, begging at traffic signals during the day and selling sex during the night.” (June 5, 2013)
Marvia Malik has broken a door. She has stepped out of the box her community is expected to spend their lives in. More institutions like Kohinoor TV need to come forward to offer space to these people.
State must be proactive in not only securing the rights of the transgender community but also offering positions that allow them a decent living, helping them to become well-adjusted members of the society.
