Awais Khan

As in his previous book No Honour, Awais Khan tackles societal injustice, especially the mistreatment of women.

This novel begins in Multan, a conservative city in Pakistan. Ayesha, 27, is single and independent, working for a charity which supports victims of domestic violence. She catches the attention of Raza Masood, an ultra-wealthy man, who decides he wants to marry her. Ayesha, however, is not interested and continues to see her boyfriend Saqib. Unaccustomed to not getting what he wants, Raza exacts revenge. Her family sends her to London to recover and protect her from further retribution. There she meets Kamil who has suffered trauma of his own. The two become friends and a romance buds, but it seems that Ayesha has not escaped Raza’s reach.

Ayesha is a character whom the reader cannot but cheer for and empathize with. An unconventional young woman, she is feisty and outspoken. She eschews society’s expectation that she marry and, instead, has a relationship with a man whom she knows her family would not let her marry because of his lower status. Nonetheless, she loves her parents. Because of Raza’s actions, her self-esteem and confidence are weakened, but her inner strength helps her to find the courage to fight.

Raza, as an only son, has been indulged all his life. As a result, he feels entitled and behaves arrogantly. He is egotistical, obsessive, vindictive, and ruthless. Though he can be charming when it suits his purpose, Ayesha thinks of him as a demon, and that is perhaps the best description. I found him somewhat unbelievable because he has no redeeming qualities and his capacity for evil is boundless. Nonetheless, I know, given that Raza’s behaviour realistically reflects what does happen in the world, that such odious people with no humanity do exist.

Raza’s foil is Kamil, a sensitive, gentle, and compassionate man. He behaves the exact opposite of how a man is expected to behave in traditional Pakistani culture. I loved that he is willing to let Ayesha take the lead and is “proud always to stand a step behind her.” Because of trauma from his past, he attends a support group. He keeps this a secret from his family, knowing they would think he was mentally ill. One person, upon hearing about his attendance, says, “’A Pakistani man in therapy? Now, I’ve seen everything.’”

There are a couple of elements that bothered me. The kidnapping scene involving Russian “goons from the dark web” seems a little far-fetched. There are some inconsistencies that irked: a woman says, “’I don’t know if she’s in love with you’” and then shortly afterwards states, “’I saw the way she looked at you sometimes. There was definitely something there. I think she is in love with you.’” One moment Ayesha “didn’t close her eyes . . . [because] she wanted to be fully present for every slight” yet then she closes “her [eyes] to the entire ordeal.” Ayesha’s mother is supposedly subservient to her husband, yet more than once she talks back to him?

I found it very difficult to like Ayesha’s parents. At times they seem loving and supportive, yet at other times they manipulate her and place their financial security above any concerns for Ayesha’s safety and happiness. Furthermore, the relationship between her mother Ishrat and Neelam, Ayesha’s aunt, is difficult to understand. After the way Neelam has behaved, Ishrat still entrusts Neelam, a malicious gossip, with a secret that endangers her daughter?!

This focuses on domestic violence – how women are abused and have virtually no recourse to justice. At the charity where she works, Ayesha sees a young woman with her entire face bandaged and Ayesha knows immediately that she’s been attacked by her husband and wonders only, “Was it acid? A knife?” In the end, that husband avoids any consequences. Ayesha is told that “’Over one thousand women have suffered such attacks in recent years in Pakistan alone’” but that “for most justice was merely an illusion.” For those who are rich, it is especially easy to avoid prosecution; they can hire the best lawyers, threaten the victim’s family, and buy the influence of corrupt police. What I appreciated is that the book also sheds some light on men who are victims of domestic abuse. In his support group, Kamil hears about men as well as women suffering at the hands of abusers.

As I read the book, I wondered how the book would be received in Pakistan. The author does not portray the country in a positive light but exposes the darker side of Pakistani culture with its oppressive patriarchy. There is an attempt to suggest that the entire country is not bad; one woman says, “’Sure, some people have antiquated beliefs, but you can’t call the entire country bad just because of a section of people.’” Nonetheless, the comments that stick in my mind are ones like, “So much of a woman’s prospects in Pakistan depended on her beauty, her ability to bear beautiful sons who would keep the family’s legacy alive and take its name forward. Daughters . . . well, they were expendable burdens that had to be unloaded on the first unsuspecting family that could be found” and “’Once you go to your husband’s home, only your funeral should emerge from those gates. Don’t come back to us alive.’ These were the words she’d grown up hearing in the family, uttered mostly by men, but also by lots of women” and “Pakistanis in a nutshell . . . They couldn’t wait to catch the drama, but when it came to offering help, they were the first to look away.”

Though the book is tempered with some humour, primarily in the banter between Kamil’s mother Jamila and her two children, I found myself angry, sad and horrified most of the time. There are indeed some truly horrifying scenes, though the violence is not gratuitous but integral to the plot and necessary for thematic development. In the last section, the tension becomes almost unbearable.

Like No Honour, this book is an uncomfortable and unsettling read, but one that should nonetheless be read.

See my review of No Honour at https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/2021/09/review-of-no-honour-by-awais-khan.h....

Note: Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) and follow me on Twitter (https://twitter.com/DCYakabuski).… (más)

Potential readers should be forewarned that this novel is often shocking and disturbing because of its subject matter. For instance, it opens with an honour killing, a barbaric practice which still continues, especially in Pakistan which, according to Human Rights Watch, has the highest number of honour killings per capita in the world, about 1,000 per year.

Sixteen-year-old Abida falls in love with Kalim and becomes pregnant. The penalty for pregnancy outside of marriage, as designated by the traditional tribal council of her small rural Pakistani village, is death. Abida is able to escape to Lahore with her lover where she hopes for a better life. Lahore, however, is not a haven, rife as it is with poverty, the drug and sex trades, violence, and institutional corruption. When Abida’s family stops hearing from her, her father Jamil sets off to find her, but he too faces dangers. Will he be able to find Abida and keep her safe?

The novel provides two alternating perspectives, that of Abida and that of her father. Because of this narrative structure, the reader knows what has happened to Abida; as her situation becomes more dire, the reader wonders whether Jamil will be able to rescue her. The level of suspense becomes almost unbearable at times.

Abida is a dynamic character. At sixteen years of age, she behaves like a typical teenager in many respects. For instance, she whines, “It was as if she had been born to be a slave, to work without any reward. She didn’t dare admit it to herself, but there were times when she wished her family dead, just so she could finally be free.” Like many adolescents, she rebels and lets her passions overrule her reason. Her experiences teach her how love, courage, and hope will help her survive.

Jamil also changes, and his transformation is heartwarming. Though raised by a strong, independent mother, he quietly follows the dictates of the judgmental, misogynistic society in which he lives. He even occasionally shakes his wife if she irritates him in some way. He does however have difficulty accepting that he must allow his daughter to die in order to restore his family honour. The possible loss of his beloved firstborn child gives him the strength and courage to stand up against age-old prejudices. He decides that love matters more than honour.

The book is not flawless. Kalim’s change, for instance, seems to happen very quickly. Even his wife is confused: at one point, she thinks about “his gradual transformation” but then later she concludes he “had withered right in front of her eyes, quickly turning into a monster.” Then there’s a man who wants to marry a woman he has never seen? The explanation given is that “’Sahab has been interested in you for quite some time. Ever since Apa Ji told him about you.’” Given the woman’s situation, wouldn’t Sahab have made a point of meeting her beforehand? A drug lord who routinely bribes the police would worry more about being arrested for adultery than for selling drugs?

These weaknesses, however, are minor when compared to the novel’s strengths. It sheds light on the oppressive treatment of girls and women in societies which consider females valueless. The reader cannot but be emotionally engaged. Anyone who is not angered or saddened by what happens to Abida and other women is heartless. And the description of Shah Doli’s Rats is horrifying and heart-breaking.

This novel is so relevant. The practices described continue to this day; despite legal reforms, honour killings continue in Pakistan because it is a patriarchal society and police and prosecutors often ignore such murders. And Pakistan is not the only country which has seen this practice: it is estimated that 5,000 honour killings occur around the world each year. Even liberal countries like Canada have had instances of it. And as I write this review, Afghanistan, Pakistan’s neighbour, has fallen to the Taliban which bans women from education and employment and is notorious for violence against women.

This book is not an easy read; it is, to say the least, uncomfortable and unsettling. It should, however, be on everyone’s must-read list.

Note: I received a digital copy of this novel from Orenda Books in return for an honest review.

Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) and follow me on Twitter (@DCYakabuski… (más)