By Emma Pabera

Emma Pabera tells about the dilemma of Pakistani wives.

I was in lay mission in Pakistan when a Columban friend wrote to me, “Life will never be the same again after your mission experience.” That was six years ago. I did not understand what he meant then. Not until my mission term ended and I went back home to the Philippines. That is why I was overjoyed when Fr. McGuire, Columban Lay Mission Coordinator, asked me if I wanted to visit our lay missionaries in Pakistan. Without any hesitation, I said, “Yes!”

Baji, Street Sweeper

One of the special persons, I wanted to see was Baji Hanefa (baji is a Punjabi word for sister). I regard her as a mother, a sister and a friend. A gentle woman, hardworking, loving and kind. She has six children, five girls, and an only boy. She works in a government corporation as a street sweeper. Most of the Christian men in the city work as street sweepers while the women as house cleaners in the Muslim families. They are poor but with hard work, Baji and her husband were able to send their children to school. Their son was in college and could speak English. He was one of the parish leaders before he got married. He helped me with our Bible activity in the community. I used to have meal in their house. Sometimes I stayed for the night. I felt at home with them as they regard me as a member of the family.

Battered Wife

One day I came to visit them. To my surprise, the children looked sad and quiet which was unusual. They told me later that their mother Baji had left them. She had been beaten by their father the previous day. At first I couldn’t believe their father could do this. He was a quiet person, soft spoken, hard working and responsible. I had a great respect for him. He had no enemy in the community.

Mean Husband

I was a witness to one of these beating incidents one summer evening. We were sleeping on the rooftop of the house. (InPakistan, houses are built like boxes with the top of the house used as a multi-purpose place; for sleeping at night during summer time, for playing, for entertaining visitors, and for hanging clothes.) I was awakened when I heard voices and commotion. The son was trying to stop his father from beating his mother with an iron tube. I was shocked because we all prayed that evening before we went to sleep. The three girls were crying. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do. I stayed with the girls in one corner. I felt sorry for Baji and the children. Trying to stop his father, the son fell and hit his head on a hard object. Blood was dripping from the upper part of his right eye. Close relatives and neighbors came to help. That evening we left Baji’s husband alone in the house.

Peace Offering

The next morning the girls returned to the house to attend to their classes. Baji stayed with me for four days. When her husband was sober, I talked to him. We had a good talk. He apologized to me and promised he will not beat Baji again. He also apologized to his wife. That day he cooked delicious chicken for lunch and gajerila –carrots cooked in milk and sugar – for dessert as a sign of reconciliation. Everyone was happy. I told him that if he beat Baji again, I would not come to their house anymore. The girls were only eleven and twelve years old that time, their eldest sister was seventeen years old and was already engaged to be married the following year.

End of the Rope

About three months before I leftPakistan, Baji left her family for good. She had severely beaten again. It happened when the two young girls were in school and the son was out working. She couldn’t bear the humiliation, the verbal and physical abuse by her husband. I felt   so bad and cried a lot. I left Pakistan without saying goodbye to her. I was thinking maybe I would never see her again.

Deprived Woman

Back in the Philippines, I heard that she lived for a while wit her brother in the Sindh province. But she didn’t stay there long. She came back to Lahore to live on her own and to be closer to where her children live. Her husband won’t allow her to visit her children in her former house. The children are also prohibited from seeing her. Occasionally the children would visit her but are careful enough that the father does not know. The two girls are now beautiful teenagers. Together with their brother who is now married, they all still live with their father.

Reunion with Baji

When I arrived in Pakistan, my first plan was to visit Pilar’s grave. (Pilar was a Columban Lay missionary from Negros who died in Pakistan while on mission.) Next was to see Baji Hanefa. Her son brought me to her one afternoon. I was very excited to see her. On the way I bought ripe mangoes for her. Her place was quite far. The road was bad. She lives in a one –room house with only a small string bed, two plastic chairs, and a tin trunk. The room has no window. It is good that she has an electric fan. I was glad to know her neighbors are all good to her. We both cried with joy as we hugged each other. She is still the gentle woman I knew before though she looks older, pale and unhappy. Her pain and suffering was seen in her eyes though she tried to hide it with a smile. Lots of questions were asked. She still works as a cleaner in a Muslim family to support herself. Her son tries to visit her if possible to attend to her needs. She is looking forward to the birth of her son’s first baby which could be within a few days. I was moved to tears when she showed me the baby dresses, gloves, shoes, hats and pillows which she beautifully crocheted.

Only the Strong

In Pakistan only strong women and very few of them – have the courage to do what Baji Hanefa did. Many remain to live with their husbands to suffer as a martyr or a fool. Baji suffers the pain of separation from her loved ones and the humiliation of the society whose culture is unjust to women but I admire her for that. She may look weak but for me she is strong.

P.S. Emma will send you literature on the Columban lay mission program, if   you so wish. (Ed.)