Samina Younis - Shackled to my Family

Shackled to my Family

This edition Copyright 2012 by Oxford eBooks

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Story Copyright 2012 by Samina Younis

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ISBN 978-1-908387-62-2 (ePUB)

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MY NAME IS Sareena and I am now 27 years of age, I was born with an identical twin sister to very strict Pakistani born parents. Both of my parents were practising Muslims who prayed 5 times a day without fail and they had an arranged marriage. My twin sister and I were seen to be a burden due to the fact we were not born as males and the family name would not be carried on through us and ultimately my parents believed that one day we will bring shame up on them. My parents were fixated on having male offspring's to carry on the family name which lead to the family being very large.

My story is a first-hand account of how I was born and raised into a strict Pakistani Muslim family and knowing from an early age that my life was already planned out for me. I was constantly reminded by my parents that a women's place is in the home and women do not have a voice in society and to only speak when I am spoken to. From childhood to a teenager I became emotionally and mentally scarred with the violence and abuse I experienced from my parents. I grew to learn the honour of my family was more important to my parents than the lives of my sisters and I.

My mother would watch my every move in the hope of triggering my father to beat me. He was even stricter than my mother; he would beat me with anything that was near to him at the time. As I grew older I longed for freedom and the freedoms of Western culture, such as wearing lipstick and eyeliner but my parents were conservative and immensely disapproving. My parents views on Western culture were very bizarre, my father thought western women were prostitutes and sinners while my mother believed using tampons would 'ruin my virginity and I would no longer be pure. This made my parents more determined to stop any western influences entering our home and minds to preserve the family's honour. Watching television was almost banned in the home but exceptions were made if there was something my father wanted to watch or if my parents were not home.

My parents harassment caused me to become distant from day to day life, school became very difficult and the thought of going home after school sent tears rolling down my cheeks. I found myself talking to God on a regular basis asking him to take my life or to make my parents kinder. I felt God was not listening to me, he disliked me and to punish me he sent to some unkind people who were my parents.

I knew an arranged marriage was my future as I had seen my elder sisters go through with the same fate. The sudden death of my father became a small turning point in my truly miserable existence.

THE YEAR WAS 1990 and I was six years old. I remember being really excited as I was going to Pakistan for the very first time. Preparations were under way. I was going to Pakistan with my elder sister Shazia. I had never been away from home before. It was winter the snow was very deep. I had just had my passport photograph taken, everything was done in such a hurry. But my excitement soon changed as I saw my twin sister Aisha, she was not going with me I had never been apart from her before. She was the other half of me and I was leaving her behind. Her face was so drawn as she asked me if I wanted her colouring book. I took it and started packing.

The following morning my father took Shazia and I to the airport, I remember him buying me a packet of crisps that were cheese and onion flavour. I was in tears, he kissed me on the cheek and left. At that point I was no longer excited about going to Pakistan I just wanted to go home.

On the airplane the air hostess gave me a childrens goody bag which contained a small packet of pencil crayons a colouring book and a pack of playing cards. This soon took my mind off things.

The whole idea of the trip was for Shazias husbands visa. She was married a few years earlier to my fathers brothers son who was called Kabir. I was going with her to Pakistan because Shazia was a mother figure to me. She had raised me from an early age, my mother had my brother Abdul to take care of and Aisha was looked after by my second elder sister Fatima.

Shazia and I were very close, she was more of a mother to me than my own mother. I remember sharing the same bed as her and she used to read to me at bedtime. Shazias English was not very good but she tried her best.

My Parents were both born in Pakistan. My father came to England a lot earlier than my mother for a better life and 7 years later my mother came with my elder three sisters.

Pakistan was always the hot topic in my family. I remember seeing blue envelopes that said Air Mail on them. Everyone used to get really excited when one would arrive.

The letter was always from my elder uncle Farooq on my fathers side. He was very well educated. He had fought in the Pakistani Army and he had always dreamt of coming to England and visiting London.

I remember feeling the cold as we arrived in Islamabad it was winter over there too. We were greeted by my elder uncle Farooq at the airport. I also remember seeing lots and lots of homeless and poor people most of which had severe disfigurements. My uncle Farooq was telling them to go away and my sister and I were told not to give them any money as he said they are not worth pitying.

The journey from Islamabad to Azad Kashmir which literally means free Kashmir was very long and bumpy. There were a lot of pot holes as we got into the villages. There were not any roads but they were merely dirt tracks. I remember seeing lots of animals such as cows, sheep and goats just roaming with not a care in the world. We were going to stay with the extended family in a village outside of the Mirpur district.

As a child visiting Pakistan and being British born I was treated like royalty. Our arrival in Pakistan was spread really quickly and people would come from different parts of the village just to say hello.

While I was there I had to dress according to the custom which meant wearing the traditional salwar kameez and a scarf. I remember being made a fuss of and being teased for not knowing how to speak Urdu/Punjabi and the Kashmire lingual.

While I was in Pakistan I went to a local school where I had to learn some Urdu and I also witnessed a goat being slaughtered. This was the first time I really knew what halal (lawful) meat was.

I was also invited to a wedding, it was amazing I was allowed to dress up in a colourful salwar kameez and I eat plenty of delicious food. I also learned how to clean using a brush made entirely out of straw. I even learned how to milk cows and how to use cow manure for fire.

A couple of months had passed and we were back home. My experience and memories of Pakistan were wonderful. I was ready to go back.

Soon after my brother in-laws visa came through he came to England, a few months later I was no longer Shazias first priority. I had to move out of her room and into my parents room.

The room consisted of a double bed in the centre of the room in which my mother and brother Abdul slept. There was another bed on the other side of the room in which my father slept and a sofa bed in which I had to sleep in.