DECONSTRUCTING WOMEN AND POWER

I heard Patti Digh say once that we give up our power to the very people who took it away from us in the first place. Who has the authority to grant permission? That depends on your culture and your perception of who's in charge. Mostly in the West, when it comes to kids, parent(s) or the legal guardian has that power and right to justly care, manage and supervise another person in a fair and humane way, where rights are pretty much protected. Yet, in some Eastern cultures where men are traditionally in positions of power and authority have this right, not only over children but also over adult women. I don't believe this is an equitable distribution of power, nor is it a helpful attitude in developing nations where many factors already put women and children at a disadvantage.

Never Judge a Book by Its Cover. Yes, I was born into an Eastern family, but culturally I was raised American, with a values orientation that points West. It's a mindset that favors free will, openness, practicality, self-reliance, directness and healthy competition. No one, I repeat, no one, has the authority to lord over me and treat me like their property. I am not chattel. No one owns me. Not my father. Not my dear husband and certainly not my brothers. I may look "Arab" but that's just skin color and facial features, but that's the "evident culture" that sits above the water line. Deep below, you will find my true colors are "all-American," and that's where the hidden dimensions of culture lie. This is what makes me tick. While we are a composite of personality, country of origin and ethnicity, in a flat world, we don't realize that it's what you can't see: our values, attitudes, perceptions, deep cultural tendencies and expectations -- that are not only taken for granted, they are hugely misunderstood and at the root of misconceptions, bias, and outright conflict.

In Pakistan, although women's rights are largely defined (and derived) by religious and tribal customs, I think tribal customs or traditional practices are to blame for women's inequality. It's no secret according to the actual Islamic principles, not the ones interpreted by power-hungry men, that women have equal rights, but we will never be able to take advantage of those rights unless they are enforced social, politically and economically from the top down. What's behind this power is the notion of the notion of namus (face/honor) is the single most important underlying factor driving their national behavior. It's central to understanding what makes these men tick. They don't want to risk making a bad choice, or looking bad, or being ridiculed for an unmanageable wife and family publicly.

Baby, You Can Drive My Car (and Other Drivers)

Girls are raised according to these dimensions of culture with the expectation of a life that can seem like nothing more than a series of compromises. Yet, like many women around the world, while I'm personally comfortable with assuming the role of family caregiver, I also presume the rights and responsibilities that come with this position: Namely, the right to a just and humane existence along with personal sovereignty and dignity. Being a wife and mother should not be mutually exclusive of human rights.

The roots of this power play between men and women in Pakistan, especially in rural areas, goes back centuries. Women continue to be segregated from men (as in many Eastern cultures). They live in purdah, which means "curtain" in Urdu -- completely separate from men. The only contact they have with men is with members of the immediate family. In these areas, everyday tasks which involve leaving the house, like shopping, are carried out by men. Women's work involves staying behind to clean, cook and raise children. However, many Pakistani women go out to work these days and are increasingly experiencing more levels of equality with men. Life varies dramatically between regions of Pakistan. A more liberal middle class plays an important role in the big cities, where conditions differ greatly from those in rural areas, which are far more traditional. The area in the northwest, bordering Afghanistan, dominated by tribal customs, is extremely conservative and very traditional with a self-styled strict adherence to Islam favored by the Taliban.

In the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, although women were previously forbidden from voting or being elected to political office, King Abdullah declared that women will be able to vote and run in the local elections and be appointed to the Consultative Assembly come 2015. Yet, the most recent act of rebellion came by car. Manal al-Sharif, a women's rights activist from Saudi Arabia helped start a women's right to drive campaign in 2011 because Saudi Arabia is the only country in the world that prohibits women from driving. Enabling mobility can only empower women who make up nearly 20 percent of the country's workforce. The World Economic Forum 2009 Global Gender Gap Report ranked Saudi Arabia 130th out of 134 countries for gender parity. It was the only country to score a zero in the category of political empowerment.

The ongoing battle of the sexes is being played out in different stages in different cultures. Each one is working through deeply held-notions of who is in charge and why, by whose authority and at what price. It's not so much the notion of independence (of women) that seems to be at issue with traditional cultures so much as the loss of face (by men) when the power shift happens. Santosh Kalwar said, "a strong gives forgiveness but weak gives permission." My advice to the men who uphold traditional misogynistic practices that were created by and for them is to seek to be advisors, not grantors of permission. Therein lays your power.

It's the kind of power reflected in the upcoming documentary, Sweet Dreams Rwanda. The women depicted are so resilient and powerful. It seems they can deal with the worst situations often without an education or resources, and yet they are able to stand up for themselves to improve their lives and the lives of others -- thus improving the overall health, welfare and economy of their nation. It's a lesson we can learn from for a more just and peaceful world.

DECONSTRUCTING THE GIRL EFFECT

Giving women all over the world a voice is empowering in ways we cannot imagine. It fosters the Girl Effect so that when we listen to them, we change their social conditions. This is crucial to solving the most persistent development problems we face in the world today. When we include girls in education, health and economic investment we have a better chance of preventing issues such as child marriage, teen pregnancy, HIV/AIDS and breaking the inter-generational cycle of poverty. Girls can't do this alone though. They need the world to listen to them and invest in their potential.

This is also part of the United Nations Millennium Goals to promote gender equality and empower women to eliminate gender disparity in primary and secondary education. And there is none as valuable as freedom of speech.

Once they are free to speak, and be heard, women and girls can become empowered as described in Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by husband-and-wife Pulitzer Prize winners Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn who argued that "the key to economic progress in the world lies in unleashing women's potential."

Pakistan is my country of origin and its first female fighter pilot, Ayesha Farooq fought her mother to pursue her dream and realize her potential. She is quoted as saying "In our society most girls don't even think about doing things as flying an aircraft," and I feel very proud of her courage which will have lasting empowering effects for other girls who dare to dream these seemingly impossible dreams. Yet, with these significant social changes, I can't help but wonder, as she is lifted from the intergenerational cycle of silence and powerlessness, what are the cultural implications? In Pakistan or the Eastern Society as I was raised to be quiet and obedient. I couldn't speak my mind or express my opinions because it was considered rude (badtameezi) or aggressive behavior. I was told "girls don't behave like this."

Today, in many cultures, from decision making to shopping, an unmarried woman needs permission from her father; a married women needs permission from her husband; and a widow needs permission from her brother. Many girls also do not have a voice in their own about who they choose to marry and when because they are still subject to the traditional practice of arranged marriage.

I am constantly reminded of this when my women friends and relatives tell me how lucky I am that my husband allows me to have my own career and make my own decisions. I guess I'm one of the lucky ones. He's very supportive of me, my decisions, and my career. He's also helpful when it comes to participating fully as a partner in our family so that we can both accomplish our career goals without sacrificing the needs of our family. Since these are only cultural values, they are learned behavior which means they can be unlearned and the cycle of social oppression can be broken.

By comparison, women in the Middle East may undergo the issue more, but they are not alone. After reading Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg -- in which she examines why women's progress in achieving leadership roles has stalled, explains the root causes, and offers compelling, commonsense solutions that can empower women to achieve their full potential -- This is about women's rights, worldwide. She gave a perspective of what woman are capable of if they are given the chance, and how men can benefit by supporting them in allowing them the right to speak up and be heard. Thirty years after women became 50 percent of the college graduates in the United States, men still hold the vast majority of leadership positions in government and industry. This means that women's voices are still not heard equally in the decisions that most affect our lives. Astonishing.

In 2010, Sheryl gave an electrifying TEDTalk in which she described how women unintentionally hold themselves back in their careers. Her talk, which became a phenomenon and has been viewed more than two million times, encouraged women to "sit at the table," seek challenges, take risks, and pursue their goals with gusto.

DECONSTRUCTING FEMALE PAKISTANI IDENTITY

Maybe I should be fearful. Heck, I was born and raised in Pakistan. To some, that's reason enough to be afraid, but I accept that in a post 9/11 America, my country conjures up all kinds of misconceptions and contradictions. To be fair though, what country is without them? What if I told you that Pakistan the most urbanized country in Asia? Or that English is the official language of business? Would you still be fearful of Pakistan or me for that matter?

I am a walking contradiction, but isn't the globalized world all about turning old notions upside down? I credit much of my fearlessness to being educated at a boarding school where I was exposed to the Western value of independence. If independence is one of the key dimensions of the Western mindset, then fearlessness is the byproduct. I am also the result of an utter yin-yang upbringing that was both rich in traditional Eastern values and progressive optimism, thanks to my parents, who were visionaries, despite their generation and beliefs. They believed I would benefit from a Western-style education. So in 1974, I was sent to St. Deny's all-girls Christian boarding school run by the British Missionary Group of Himalayan Schools. In 2010 it was burnt down by Islamic militants because it was smack dab in the perilous area of Murree; and, it shared a nearby border with the equally dangerous Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, which lacked any strong check posts.

Maybe I should be fearful. Heck, I was born and raised in Pakistan. To some, that's reason enough to be afraid, but I accept that in a post 9/11 America, my country conjures up all kinds of misconceptions and contradictions. To be fair though, what country is without them? What if I told you that Pakistan the most urbanized country in Asia? Or that English is the official language of business? Would you still be fearful of Pakistan or me for that matter?

I am a walking contradiction, but isn't the globalized world all about turning old notions upside down? I credit much of my fearlessness to being educated at a boarding school where I was exposed to the Western value of independence. If independence is one of the key dimensions of the Western mindset, then fearlessness is the byproduct. I am also the result of an utter yin-yang upbringing that was both rich in traditional Eastern values and progressive optimism, thanks to my parents, who were visionaries, despite their generation and beliefs. They believed I would benefit from a Western-style education. So in 1974, I was sent to St. Deny's all-girls Christian boarding school run by the British Missionary Group of Himalayan Schools. In 2010 it was burnt down by Islamic militants because it was smack dab in the perilous area of Murree; and, it shared a nearby border with the equally dangerous Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, which lacked any strong check posts.

Call me an optimist, but if history is any indication about the fearlessness of my people, then positive change is on the horizon, if not happening right now. Peshawar was once a major center of enlightened Buddhist learning in the 2nd century CE. It was also a central trading center at the busy intersection of the Silk Road; where East met, bought, sold and traded with the West. Despite current events, not only does nothing stay the same, but thanks to globalization, it doesn't stay the same for long. Right now, a deep historical legacy of progressive ideas is drilling through these hard scrabble mountain villages with democracy with the likes of Imran Khan. The youth support him and that he said, was his victory, despite losing the election on 14 May 2013. His party swept the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province in the elections, I think, with a little help from the area's enlightened history.

Passionate, loyal, hospitable, and proud: American or Pakistani traits?

The Western ways are tantamount to my Eastern ones, even if that fiercely independent American mindset may seem to run counter to my Pakistani one (if not to human nature!). But then again, there's been a certain kind of love-hate relationship with West and Pakistanis have always trouble reconciling it. I read somewhere that because people are born dependent and connected to others, American independence may be hard to understand. I understand that it's not only desirable, but necessary. I get it. Their independence may be perceived as "selfish" to others, but I know from experience from an immigrant family that it's rooted in self-reliance. Ironically, it is precisely this unlikely aspect of the American mindset that glues such a big country together. It's what unites them.

Still, you've got to understand that Pakistanis -- who are like 85 percent of the rest of the world -- because they are relationship-oriented, or Collectivists. Not Individualists, or like Americans. Social networking doesn't count. If you want to know what makes them tick, you've got to really, really understand our strong need to form personal relationships. For example, when it comes to business, a Pakistani seeks to build trust in order to do business. For Americans, this is frustrating because this takes time. And for them, it's the other way around. Trust happens later, as a consequence of business, or what we call a track record.

Margaret Mead said (with irony I'm sure) that because of their age-long training in human relations, women have a special contribution to make to any group enterprise. When my father joined the World Bank in 1982, we immigrated to the United States and settled of course in Washington, D.C. Finally, I thought, I will have the freedom of choice and speech I need. As much as I love my culture, let's face it, the gender gap is huge. Men are in charge, so speaking your mind as a woman is just not done. The Peshawar province does not mean the "city of men" in Sanskrit for nothing. Little did I know that's I would have to be fearless and make life or death decisions, despite what I knew about eastern ways.

I refused to accept an arranged marriage and I married for love. Although my husband is Indian, he is neither from Pakistan, nor was he from the same religion which caused problems, but we overcame them. Since 1988, I have raised our four beautiful children and fearlessly followed my dream to have my own business. In 2007, an opportunity came along, and within a year, I established IKG Global Consultants in four countries including the U.S., UK, Canada and Singapore. My company provides international and domestic relocation services, destination services, human resource services, global payroll management and supply chain management, as well as supplier assessment and sourcing.

Since I worked with people from different backgrounds and cultures, traveling was never been an issue, but in June 2010 my father fell very ill and my courage was tested. Looking back, I feel proud of the strength God granted me to handle and accomplish something my father felt so proud about, not that he wasn't already proud of my accomplishments or my fearless personality.

In 2010 my dad was working in Yemen on a project for GOPA, a German development consulting firm that was developing and building a secondary education system for the young girls of tribal Yemen in coordination with the Yemini Ministry of Education. If these girls had access to education they could avoid the traditional practice of early childhood marriage. This work would have wide-ranging effects, not only on their health and welfare, but on that of their community and beyond. This has been an ongoing global problem that I am very concerned about because 10 million girls under the age of 18 marry each year, many as young as eight. In developing countries, one in every three girls marries before they are 18. Economically, an increase of only 1 percent in girls secondary education attendance, adds 0.3 percent to a country's GDP.

According to the World Health Organization complications of pregnancy and childbirth are the leading cause of death in young women. Young girls who marry later and delay pregnancy beyond their adolescence have more chances to stay healthier, to better their education and build a better life for themselves and their families. So for me, since women's rights are a constant matter of discussion in Pakistan, it was important to contribute something positive to the emancipation of disadvantaged women, no matter where they are from.

Women do not always experience equality with men in Pakistan, but this is changing. Women's education has not been a priority in the past, but many more women are entering the labor force even though the majority of their jobs is often below the "threshold of decency." The situation is better in urban areas. Of course, I was the exception and I was able to work in what is considered the most coveted kind of position for an ambitious Pakistani woman -- with a multinational company where there is a chance for progression. Pakistan did, of course, have a female prime minister in Benazir Bhutto, and has had four other prominent female politicians, but each of these inherited their political career from their husbands/fathers and later became politicians in their own right.

Fear may be scary, but it's a powerful motivator. In June 2010, I got a call from Yemen that my dad was in the hospital on the project with a serious lung infection. I flew there in couple of days and my dad was not only relieved to see me but his condition had improved and he was released from the hospital. We made arrangements that he would rest at home and recover. Meanwhile, I planned to go back to the states and return soon to be with him. As soon as I landed in New York, I got a call from his wife that he was being taken back to the hospital. He had a heart attack. His kidneys were failing. I immediately had to get on the next flight back to Dubai and then on to Yemen. My dad was in the ICU at a Yemen hospital, a very male dominated society where people accept a hierarchical order. Everybody accepts their place and this behavior needs no further justification. Power is also very centralized and subordinates -- meaning women and children -- expect to be told what to do by the "benevolent dictator." A man.

By all accounts, I was Pakistani looking on the outside, but I am all American on the inside. Needless to say I had to dial back the I-am-women thing. I had to dress more modestly, headscarf and all according to tradition because I had to assert myself and become the decision maker for when it came to the health and welfare of my dad.

I spent hours at the ICU with my dad who was hardly conscious. I had to use various meditative and musical therapies to help me maintain my hope and buffer me against this chauvinistic Middle Eastern culture of doctors as my father's advocate. Fearlessly, I persuaded them not to do any surgeries or procedures because I wanted him to be treated in a hospital in the west. I made arrangements with the help of my dad's employers and health insurance agency in Germany to airlift my father from Yemen to Frankfurt. It took me five days to make it all happen and finally, on July 1, my Dad's birthday, I gave him the good news that we were flying out of Yemen in an air ambulance with a doctor on board to boot. We went through the required procedures and after ten days he was able to fly back to the U.S. on a commercial flight.

This experience gave me such a sense of accomplishment and triumph because I was able to help save my dad's life. I was brave and fearless in a country where women have to work so hard to earn their place and prove their worth; where their health and welfare is rarely considered. I was not only heard, but I spoke for a male elder in a position of authority.

Being fearless means not only stepping out of my comfort zone, but also persuading others to step out of theirs too. It means advocating for my rights and that of others, like my dad and for the human right of girls. It's about having a voice. It's about being heard and respected. It means having the courage to do what I have to, especially for the sake of justice, decency, and human rights.