The proposal came through a matchmaker aware of her six-digit pay cheque. He was everything 28-year-old Aasia* wished in a partner: educated, soft-spoken, the right amount of religious, respectful to his elders and most of all self-reliant. She thought she was being rewarded for her good deeds. But what had appeared like a bouquet of roses soon turned into a bed of thorns.

“My nikah was solemnised a month prior to the wedding so we could get our documents ready to travel for an umrah. During that month, I got a job offer from another firm. I was offered four times what I was earning,” says Aasia. “I told my husband about the job, and he didn’t make it a big deal of it. In fact, he never reacted. I knew his pay was less than mine, but neither my family nor I ever considered it a problem.”

Two days before the wedding, Aasia received a furious call from her husband, who complained about the “junk” that had been sent in the name of dowry. He accused her mother of “not having the saleeqa [propriety] to send her daughter off”. Shocked and terrified, Aasia’s mother tried to comfort her daughter and arranged for everything demanded in dowry the next day.

In the traditional set up, a woman’s responsibilities are considered to revolve around her home, whereas the man’s job is to support the family financially. Aasia found herself doing both.

“The very next day, my husband started ‘borrowing’ money from me. Even on our umrah trip, in which the whole family tagged along, he ‘forgot’ to carry money. Instead, he urged me to spend my emergency cash on his family,” she says. “His family took every possible opportunity to ask me for money. Whether it was the monthly budget or a gift for somebody, they asked for it like it was my duty and as if they deserved it.”

Women have always had to fight for their rights, whether it’s ownership of their belongings or their choices. Like Aasia’s in-laws, there are many who don local traditions under the garb of religion. Under Islamic law a woman has an equal right to earn, own, spend and otherwise dispose of her property as she wishes, without any interference by a male relative. The husband must still support his wife and look after her by providing for her all her needs which includes but is not limited to food, clothes and housing. These rules were brushed aside by Aasia’s in-laws as they found ways to extort her salary.

“I was never given a choice. They told me that since they had added me to the family, more income was needed. It didn’t matter if it was coming from my family or me,” says Aasia.

When it comes to a woman’s career aspirations, it is categorised either as a necessity or a pastime. There is nothing in-between. If there is ever a compromise to make, it usually falls on the woman.

“Who isn’t passionate about their careers?” says 33-year-old Birjees Hasan, who would have been an engineer in an ideal world but has been a teacher at a local school for the past seven years. “My husband told me that my first priority had to be the home and children… I abandoned my profession and ended up teaching instead.”

The view that women are only interested in the frivolous leads to many believing that there is something inherently wrong with women who have a passion for a career. Their growth in their careers and the success is often brushed aside. Their role as homemakers is highlighted.

29-year-old Javeria Siddiqui is married to her khala’s [maternal aunt’s] son for four years. She is a mother to an eight-month-old daughter. While the khala runs a homeopathic clinic of her own, she says she always wanted a daughter-in-law who would take care of the house.

“I used to be her favourite niece but ever since her son started showing interest in me, she became a little critical,” says Javeria, who was promoted at work earlier this year. “My mother-in-law supports working women, yet I’m considered a ‘bad bahu’ and a ‘bad wife’ because I don’t take appropriate care of the house.”

“The first two years were torturous. I’ve never been told to my face about my job, but I’m known as ‘tez’ [cunning] as well as ‘lazy’ in the family. Also, my sisters-in-law complain that I am neglecting their parents.”

Javeria’s eldest sister-in-law is her age and has continued to work after her marriage. Unlike Javeria, the sister-in-law is not expected to take up household chores and her parents feel that it’s justified (and are happy) as she gets tired after work. “This did not change after I became a mother. I have been working from home since Covid started but it’s an eight-hour job and demands at least five to six dedicated hours. I can’t do it all. If my husband helps me with some chores, it becomes a big deal; but that’s not the case when my sister-in-law doesn’t even lift a finger at her husband’s home.”

Working women are frequently pressured into feeling a sense of guilt. Sometimes, this can lead to women trying to compensate for this with their money.

Javeria says she felt such a guilt initially, thinking that maybe she wasn’t a good daughter-in-law and was ‘neglecting’ her home. “I would try to chip in and bring expensive gifts for everyone to make up for it. But the gifts or my contributions weren’t appreciated. I have an income, so it’s not a big deal.”

Aasia had been multitasking since she was 12. She was managing home with school, or had a job – after her father passed away and her mother took charge. She was independent and capable as she had been a top student at school. She found her freedom being taken away, bit by bit. “I got fired from my new job a month after my wedding. My productivity was judged on my working hours, but at home, I was required to be in front of my in-laws at all times, even if it meant sitting idle in front of the TV,” she says.

“I never thought working after marriage or supporting my mother would ever be an issue. But let alone working continuously for a few hours, I could hardly get a minute to speak to my family. I could only ever call them late at night when everyone was asleep.”

Things got worse when Aasia lost her job. “My husband would visit my bank every week to check if I had really lost my job. Some expenses that I wanted to help my mother cover for my wedding were constantly criticised. On top of that, I still had to keep contributing to the monthly budget.”

With the slumping economy and the ever-increasing costs of everything, the middle class constantly struggles to get by. Birjees claims that her job has become a necessity as she spends her income on her three children. Her husband handles the main expenses. Sehrish Nasr, 34, who teaches at a local school, uses her income to pay for her two children’s education. The rest is the husband’s domain. “Taking the responsibility for my children’s education has allowed us to manage the house better and improve our quality of life,” says Sehrish.

Some households have no sons or they are still young. In such cases, the eldest daughter often takes it upon herself to help make ends meet.

30-year-old Tazeen* is solely responsible for her personal expenses as her husband tries to get through a tough phase in his profession. As the eldest in her birth family, she likes to support her younger siblings. As a married woman, though, Tazeen is of the opinion that working women in some ways, are always expected to pitch in.

“Whatever money my husband hands over to me, I manage it. If it’s not enough, I chip in. I happily spend money on my family, husband, and I would do it for my father-in-law, as he is really kind to me. But I don’t have extra money to splurge on my in-laws.”

Tazeen lives in a joint family setup, where she and her husband share a portion with her married brother-in-law. When it comes to shared responsibilities, she feels things would have been easier in a nuclear family. “I find myself doing most of the work when it comes to kitchen, as my sister-in-law can skip some of her responsibilities. Although, I feel it’s a little unfair when we have to split hefty bills equally, even when we are hardly ever home. We don’t say much out of courtesy and to maintain peace in the house.”

Marriage is a bond that is supposed to bring not just two people together, but also their families. It gives you a sense of belonging. It calls for mutual support, especially emotional support. This support is usually what gets one through difficult experiences. Javeria had to face difficulties at the hands of her in-laws but got through the troublesome phase with the help of her husband, as he stood up for her and was ready to unlearn and relearn his biases.

Sehrish’s husband who didn’t allow her to work for the first 5-6 years, ended up changing his mind after they moved to Dubai for a year. In fact, he encouraged her to work, giving Sehrish some financial liberty that she now enjoys.

Marriages built on love, respect, trust and understanding thrive. But when the motivations and foundations of marriage are not built on these principles, it can lead to emotional turmoil, abuse and trauma. Aasia suffered it until finally the husband decided to divorce her.

“After I lost my job, I just wasn’t good for them any longer. My husband had never even tried to bond with me. I was shamed for my looks, for the things I had bought for my dowry and was called incompetent among many other things. There was a point where I started believing that I actually wasn’t good enough. I would message my brother asking him if I was worth anything. He would send me long texts describing how important I had been to my family and how much good I had done for them. I think that was one of the things that kept me sane during that time.”

Aasia’s family tried to intervene several times with her in-laws, but nothing came to fruition. When the verbal and psychological abuse wasn’t enough, Aasia was locked in a room for two days, without food. Her phone was confiscated. She was divorced three times and dropped at her mother’s place. Later, her family filed a case for damages.

Abusive relationships can do a lot of damage to one’s mental well-being. These behaviours don’t just hurt the person in the moment but they can destroy their sense of safety, diminish self-confidence and make it difficult for them to trust anyone.

Farhan’s* younger sister was divorced two years ago. Even though she has moved on in life and remarried, she still suffers from PTSD, which is why she cannot revisit the incident. “My sister had her nikah a year before the wedding; three months after the wedding, they separated. She was formally divorced two months later,” says Farhan. “His father used to send him money every month, so he had never worked at a proper job and would often quit. We found out about this after the wedding.”

According to Farhan, his sister was going through immense psychological abuse, which turned into physical abuse after the wedding. She was suffering in silence, mostly because she didn’t want to worry their mother.

“My sister was dedicated and very punctual at work,” relates Farhan. “And all her ex wanted was for her to stay at home with him, or just be at service for him as soon as she’d get back. When we’d ask him, what he will he do once he runs out of his father’s money, he’d refer to my sister’s salary.”

The horror of those words paled in comparison to the horrors his sister lived through. “The divorce proceedings were traumatic for her. She would be completely silent during the day or wake up at night screaming, trying to run away from the house.”

Farhan’s sister resumed work after a couple of weeks, as his family felt that it was better that she start focusing on something productive and healing. With the wounds of abuse still raw, there was another battle that needed to be fought. This time at home, as his sister remarrying became their mother’s obsessive worry.

“After the divorce, I had a lot of fights with our mother and our eldest sister. They were trying to convince her to remarry. I held my ground – no one could force her until she was ready to do so. I wanted to provide her with a shelter where she didn’t feel pressured. I wanted my sister to take her time healing and be happy on her own terms,” he adds.

Healing and recovering from trauma on one’s own is pretty challenging. Friends and family can help. A strong support system, like Farhan was to his sister or like Javeria’s husband was for her, can make less difficult for women.

“Sometimes it can be hard to identify our own problematic behaviours,” Farhan reflects. “After my sister’s divorce, I changed in many ways. I assessed my own attitude towards my wife. I made a conscious effort to empathise with her at home and at work and do something about it. This not only uplifted her spirits in her endeavours but also strengthened our bond. It’s the least I could do.”

Aasia says getting divorced can, in fact, be quite cathartic, knowing that at the very least, everyday abuse is a thing of the past. With love and support from her family, Aasia revels in the happy news of her win at court for damages. With lessons learnt, she is again booming at her workplace, starting afresh with more positive energy around her.

“The grieving period is over now. I feel happy. I am ready to focus more on myself and thrive.”

*Names have been changed to protect identities.

The writer a reporter/sub-editor at You! magazine