The personal is political

Published : 28 June 2015, 12:11 PM
Updated : 28 June 2015, 12:11 PM

I am a 21st century slave. I am given a slave name by my owner. Science is used to say I am less evolved. Theology is used to keep me from owning property. Biology is used to see me as a vessel where the rights of my body are not my own. I could be a Negro before the Civil Rights Movement, I could be a Jew before the Second World War, for I am enslaved, subordinate and still a second-class citizen struggling for my rights all the same, even today, over a century after I won my right to vote. I am always someone's sister, daughter, mother, and wife but never my own individual person. I am a woman.

As per Aristotle, I am "defective because I cannot produce semen which contains a full human being." As per St. Thomas, I am "an imperfect man" made from a supernumerary bone of a man. As per Sir Matthew Hale, a woman gives herself to her husband as if like any other property to use any way he wishes when she marries him and thus creating an illusion of perpetual consent which cannot be retracted to prove marital rape. And in the English language which is reflective of our perceptions, there are about 99 derogatory words to refer to a promiscuous female as opposed to one word for a promiscuous male, often used as a compliment.

My menstruation cycle which sustains humanity is seen as my weakness affording me fewer job opportunities, lower scopes of promotion and much less pay than men. Showing my hair is said to be sinful, my skin is sinful, my nails are sinful, my eyes, my breasts that feed you, my vagina that gives birth to you are all sinful to the point that my entire being is alienated as a consummately separate, lesser being from that of a man, made only to be idolised, fantasised over, owned as a trophy, controlled, and for procreation.

As per the media, I am only fit to be a muse who loves to be ogled at like in an 'item number' song, even though eve-teasing is a punishable offence under section 354 of the Penal Code, 1860.

As in social media, people think they can attack me with their nasty comments from behind the safety of their computer screens at home, but the hands of law under the Information and Communication Technology Act 2013 and under the supervision of the BTRC, stretch deep, even inside of your comfort zone.

As per society, I am too weak, too irrational, too emotional and my virtue, tied up into that of my family's, is apparently a tangible object that can be snatched away from me by another man. I would shred this pathetic, illusive, and fantastical virtue of mine into pieces if only I could get my hands on it.

That man who is trying to blackmail me by threatening my virtue must not know that the Control of Pornography Act 2012 makes it an offence to pass on to other my private photos or videos, which can be recovered under section 98 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1898.

My name is Hena. I was raped by my married cousin and then ordered to be whiplashed 101 times on charges of adultery with my rapist by my local illegal salish (village arbitration). I was taken to the hospital after being whiplashed. I died the day after the hospital released me. My family bribed the local police officers and doctors to produce a false autopsy so no one would know how I was brutally murdered.

But my story has been heard after the honourable High Court Division of the Supreme Court of Bangladesh ordered my body to be exhumed and autopsied again. The doctors, police officers, and salish authority now face criminal charges.

My name is Yasmin. I worked as a domestic maid when one day I was picked up in a police van and gang raped by the very people responsible for ensuring my safety. My rape and murder couldn't be covered up even by the efforts of Chocolate Apa, once the High Court ordered my body to be exhumed and re-examined.

The 3 police officers have been hung to death, facing the maximum punishment for gang rape punishable under section 9 of the Prevention of Oppression Against Women and Children Act 2000, and defined under section 375 of the Penal Code, 1860.

My name is Sima and unfortunately even when the High Court interferes with the best of intentions, when the prosecution is also the accused, the accused walk free. The accused police had destroyed all evidence of rape leaving the Court to observe, "Where the police are the accused and also the investigators, there can be no fair trial." I am another girl who disappeared without the slightest stain on anyone's conscience. I am forgotten and no one got to know my story.

My name is Sriti Rani and I was a student at Bangladesh Medical College Barishal. A number of other students gang raped me, but I had to stay quiet to protect my family's virtue, so I only filed a case for abduction.

I am the millions more silenced women and children harassed, molested, assaulted, and raped every year within the safety of my own home or shunned away by the police.

The police often refuse to file my case, despite directions given by the honourable High Court Division of the Supreme Court of Bangladesh ordering police officers to file FIRs (First Information Report) even if no victim comes forward. The police are also required by law to do so under section 154 of the Code of Criminal Procedure (CrPC) 1848 anyway, if police have information about the commission of a cognisable offence regardless of whether anyone comes forward to file it.

Many stories remain untold and crimes go unpunished due to the inaction of the police and many are unaware that the Tribunal can take direct jurisdiction only if the victim gives a sworn statement under section 27 of the Prevention of Oppression Against Women and Children Act 2000.

If Khadija was such a powerful businesswoman and a true feminist, how did it take us till 1848 to give married women like herself the right to fully own property? If heaven is beneath a mother's feet, then why is it that mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters always seem to be systematically kept one step behind?

If all citizens are equal before the law and are entitled to equal protection of law under Article 27 of the Constitution of the Republic of Bangladesh, then why are half of the country's citizens subjected to outdated inheritance laws? These laws give women one third of the inheritance property as opposed to two thirds her brother is offered, or even less share with her uncles and nephews when she has no brother?

Yet still, marital rape is excluded from the definition of rape under section 375 of our Penal Code 1860, preserving the original definition inherited from the British legal system. Our country only has one DNA lab, which provides conclusive proof and is far too expensive for the common person, who in any case often make the mistake of washing themselves and their clothes of any evidence and wait to discuss the matter with their family and local salish until it becomes too late to prove anything. At this point the salish may just order a compensation be paid or the victim be forced into marrying her rapist.

Adultery under section 497 of the same act is an offence if a man has sexual intercourse with the wife of another man without the husband's permission. Abortion under section 312 is still illegal except when performed to save the mother's life.

Most of our existing laws are primordial laws inherited from the colonial era desperately requiring revision, leaving space for women's rights groups to continue to strive to outlaw marital rape and banish such archaic practices as the two-finger test or the character shaming defence questioning tactics used in rape cases.

My right to my security, my right over my own body and fertility, my right to live, my right to work, my right to my freedom may be personal to me, but any one of these rights taken away from me is a right you do not enjoy the security of either, whether you are male or female.

These rights endowed upon me, or the lack thereof, dictate my ability to pull myself out of poverty, and thereby the economic enhancement of half a nation. They dictate my ability to raise a healthier generation, my ability to make choices that will shape our future generation and upon which hinges the fate of the rest of humanity, which cannot prosper if you keep me hidden away indoors.

And thus, as one of the Suffrage movement's slogans spelt it, the personal is political. My name is Nadia Choudhury, I am a Barrister-at-law and feminism should be all of our fight.

Nadia Choudhury is a barrister-at-law and member of ICR Foundation.