Bibi Ji is a real kind woman. I remember how happy she was when I told her about my comfort when the Metro system started. No longer I had to change two buses to reach to her house daily. It saved me two hours on a round trip which meant that I could work an extra house to earn money.
My Bibi Ji had asked me the same question today, "Hajirah, why don't you leave this man?".
She will never understand. She sees my bruises and she feels pity for me. She gets upset when she learns that he takes away all my earnings and wastes it on drugs. She gets annoyed at learning that he still isn't working anywhere and never will because he lies in bed whole day intoxicated and beats me up on my returns.
Bibi Ji says I should leave him!
She doesn't understand why I can't!
I cannot.
He is my man. He is the father of my children.
So what if he doesn't earn a dime?
So what if he hits me and leave me black and blue?
So what if he spends my hard earned money on drugs and sends me to earn more?
So what if he is less than half of a man to others?
He is still, somewhat of a man.
People know he's my man.
No one in the area troubles me and my daughters because they know that there's a man in the house.
His presence counts!
My name is Hajirah. I am a Christian but my parents gave me this Muslim name because our country is a Muslim country. Plus Hajirah is the Arabic name for Hagar in the Bible. I've never studied bible. Actually I cannot read or write anything. I only go to Church on special occasions like Christmas or a wedding. My mother told me that my forefathers were Hindus. At that time Pakistan and Bangladesh used to be part of India as a single country. My forefathers were called the untouchables (also known as Shudar or Dalit) because we belonged to the lowest cast of Hindus. We were not allowed any physical touch with the rest of the casts. Our cast was not allowed to go to school and get any education or even allowed to wear shoes in the presence of members of other cast systems. We could not drink the water from the same well or even touch their utensils. The only job given to us was of janitorial services.
In those days, most of the houses in India did not have sewage system. Toilet rooms used to have a hole in the seat over a pan or simply a pan for the purpose. Our jobs were to clean that pan. We used to empty the pan in our carts and bring it outside the city to dump it near the area where we lived. This was the dirtiest of all jobs. We lived near filth and were treated like filth.
Under British rule, many Christian missionaries came to India on the mission. They educated the people of our cast that they were as much human as the Brahmans (the highest cast). They convinced the people of Shudar cast that they would gain equal status by converting to Christianity and go to Heaven after death. This was something like finding Paradise in life. My forefathers had never envisioned a life of equal status. The were beyond ecstatic to hear that their children could live a life away from this filth. They could go to school, find other jobs and live a decent living. They could shake hands with other humans! The missionaries won the hearts of my forefathers, the majority of whom converted to Christianity.
We got self respect but the rest did not change much. Now our children could go to Christian schools for education but only a minority of children were sent. The majority still kept working in the same family business of cleaning other people's filth since they needed extra hands to help make ends meet. Children started helping as soon as they were able to carry a pot.
In 1947 the country got her freedom and was divided into two new countries, India and Pakistan. The area where we lived became a Muslim country Pakistan. I was born in Pakistan. My family lived on the outskirts of the city. We live in tin and mud huts. We are not recognized by our cast because Islam does not believe in cast system. Christians are called people of the book in Quran, the Muslim's holy book. In Pakistan, we are not known by our cast or religion but by our profession. We are called Bhungi which means the janitor. All the Janitor class in my colony of mud and tin huts is Christian. We daily go to the city and clean people's houses. We no longer have to push carts of filth thanks to the sewage system but we still clean the bathrooms, sweep and mop the floors. Sometimes we wash clothes as well. In short, we still do the dirtiest of all jobs. We are not untouchables any longer. Our kids can go to school. We can find other jobs. It's another thing that we rarely do that because it's difficult for us to break away from our family, friends and relatives.
My Bibi Ji doesn't treat me like a slave, though I think of her as my Malikan. In fact she says, "Hajirah, you are honorable. You don't beg but earn honest money. I wish you will get rid of that baggage of a husband and live decently on your earnings".
I don't agree with the last part because she doesn't understand my need but her acknowledgement of my honest hard work gives me great joy. It confirms that I am a human just like her.
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