Of Other prejudices

December 4, 2016

As the government and NGOs focus on khwajasaras more as a strange gender rather than giving them equal rights, the society looks the other way

Of Other prejudices

Zara Naz, 35, a khwajasara living in the country’s capital Islamabad, was nearly 17 when she danced for the first time with a group of her community on a basant night-party in Rawalpindi. After a few years, she quit her group planning her own small business with the help of a friend. Now, more than one-and-a-half decade later, she seems satisfied with her small mobile repair and sales shop in Aabpara, the busiest market catering to low income sections of the capital city.

Born as Muhammad Asif to a father who did job in a private company, she does not hesitate to tell her story. With six siblings (five brothers and one sister), she continued to go to school till grade 11 as Asif, along with her brother.

"Boys in the school used to tease me because of my thin voice, girly style and my protruding chest. My brothers used to defend me and fight with those boys. One day, my elder brother had to be in a really big fight on my behalf that forced me to stop going to school," she recalls in a sad tone, sitting in a one-room residence close to her business.

"That was the saddest moment of my life when I had to leave my school. My aunt took me with her to Rawalpindi where I befriended another khwajasara Fozia, left my aunt’s house and joined a group and starting dancing," says Zara.

In Pakistan, there is no census separately counting khwajasaras as the third-gender. In the last census, the number of people in "others" category was 1.8 million. Some other research studies indicate that approximately one out of 50 children is identified with a transgender tendency, which is nearly two per cent of the total population. In the twin cities of Rawalpindi and Islamabad, the estimated number of khwajasaras is 150,000.

Read also: "We are plagued by the tyranny of the gender binary"

In the past few years, with the gradually rising voice of civil society groups, the community has come in the spotlight of media which is showing this community’s life, challenges, and struggles to get recognised as human beings. The voice for their rights and efforts for attitudinal changes in society to accept and respect them is slowly gaining momentum.

In the past few years, with the gradually rising voice of civil society groups, the community has come in the spotlight of media which is showing this community’s life, challenges, and struggles to get recognised as human beings.

The Supreme Court of Pakistan in September 2012 had ruled for the first time that khwajasara community has equal rights as all citizens. The court also recognised their right over family inheritance and urged the government to give all rights to them in all fields of life including education and employment "in a dignified manner". In the same year, there was an order to mention the community as a separate gender in country’s national database. However, the judgment is still on papers and successive governments have yet to implement this decision.

"The judgment of the Supreme Court is just a preamble in our view. It is just the beginning. There is a long way to go to give this neglected community its rights. There is awareness gradually but still this community has least respect in society. They are still victim of discrimination, hatred, violence and a source of cheap entertainment for the some sections of society," says Uzma Yaqoob, representing Forum for Dignity Initiatives, a non-government organisation that has started working for khwajasara rights.

"There is need for a lot of sensitisation. The community still feels itself insecure; they are victims of violence. There is need to involve all stakeholders on this issue," says Yaqoob. "Actually, the policies of the government and NGOs are mostly to add to this stigma and focus only on HIV-AIDS and focusing on them more as a strange gender rather than empowering and giving them equal rights."

"The most important thing is to change the behavioral patterns in society and give them knowledge to understand and recognise this community," says Professor Dr Waheed Chaudhry, who heads the anthropology department of Quaid-i-Azam University. "We need to tell them that there is just biological difference between genders. There is another challenge within this community that many people are operating in the guise of khwajasaras just to earn money."

Chaudhry feels the need to bring this community in the mainstream rather than presenting them as abnormal.  "Otherwise, all these efforts made by government will remain a lip-service and ineffective without evolving a proper mechanism and engaging this community to get recognition and respect."

Amid reports of rape, violence and torture, the community members are also opting for different careers in search for a better life. Generally, they are dancers, beggars, sex workers but many are also becoming make-up artists, cooks, and working at homes. Some are turning up as models, small entrepreneurs and working in media houses. Recently, one member also contested provincial assembly election in Punjab in Jhang. Several months back, there were also suggestions to use khwajasaras for tax and revenue collections, like they have been in India.

For Zara, there are no serious efforts to recognise her community. "First we want to be accepted as human beings and not as strange creatures. We are created by God in the womb of women, just like other persons. The difference is only genetic," she says. "Society should not isolate us and it should understand our nature. If we want to be like girls, it is in our nature from God." She calls for equal rights and a third line for khwajasaras everywhere. She says she quit dancing and opted for a dignified work in this society which is also acceptable to her family.

"Today, I am proud that I am supporting my mother and a younger brother. They are also happy with me and my work. The only difference is that I live separately now. The society should accept us as third gender and let us live the way we want to."

Recently, in Peshawar, when a khwajasara was shot and injured (and later died), the hospital administration was undecided for hours whether to admit her in a male or female ward. "This all is sad indeed," she bemoans. She also calls for opportunities and openings for the community "to earn in a better way".

"For example when the Capital Development Authority opened the flower shops in Super Market, the management should have allotted two or three shops for our community. Such are the soft works the khwajasaras can perform well," concludes Zara.

Of Other prejudices