Some 25 years ago when I was working as a junior Pakistani diplomat, I visited my colleague at the embassy compound. My friend, a third secretary like me, offered me the most delectable dates I had ever tasted. I was crestfallen, however, to find out that the ambassador had sent these dates to 16 households in the embassy, and had excluded only two officers from the blessings of the heavenly fruit. Both were single men. The following day, I complained to the ambassador. In less than an hour, a half-a-pack was delivered to me in my office by his indignant amanuensis, while the other half was handed over to the other single officer. Later, it transpired that the good ambassador had asked for a kitchen knife and his share to be brought to his office, cut his own pack into two, and given it to us. The ambassador has long since retired, and my affection for him has only increased over the years. I don’t think we will see more capable diplomats than him at least in this part of the world. But the question remains: what is the source of the bias, conscious or otherwise, against these single children of a lesser god? I have discovered three major roots to this bias. Take the childless single people first. To begin with, there is confusion in the minds of many friends that those who do not have children cannot match the child-management experience of those who are blessed with children. But when I ask them that if their children have a psychological problem, will they insist that the psychiatrist they see must have children of his or her own, they generally keep quiet. Of course, almost all parents are convinced that the rights of their children exceed any other human right enshrined in a United Nation’s convention. This implicit assumption is at its full display the minute the plane has completed its take-off, and dozens of desi (local) children are unleashed on unsuspecting passengers. Recently, I was pleased to read that this behaviour extends to Britain as well; many British parents book seats away from their own children so that they can relax on the plane. It is the only time I wish I had half a dozen children of my own so that I could tell them “Go! Make life miserable for the entire planeload as I read my Kindle.” Secondly, there is an assumption, at least in our society, that single men are more irresponsible, even prurient. Actually, single people are in a catch-22 situation. If they go to a party as single, the above assumption comes into full play. If they go accompanied by a friend of the opposite gender, Lord have mercy on them! In Pakistan, you can flout any traffic signal, cheat anyone, break any law, and you can go scot-free. But if you are seen with a woman who is not your wife, even when you are single, all hell can break loose, which you can only avoid by hiding her, claiming that she is your cousin, or by repenting and denying any connection with her. This assumption of prurience is displayed when a single friend of mine comes back from foreign travel. The questions from his married male friends begin on an innocuous note but soon converge on: did you meet someone? What happened? Abashed and nonplussed, he throws up his hands, claiming that it is the happily married ones who seem more frustrated, and only use him as a medium to achieve vicarious pleasure. Thirdly, there is a widespread belief that because one is single, one does not have to spend a lot of money. From this theorem, a corollary is generated: single people do not have to earn a lot of money. The deduction from this is obvious: my friends often look at me with suspicion as to why I do not give all my savings away — possibly to them. They are dumbfounded, even hurt, when I suggest to them that whereas their children will take care of them in old age, I will need money to take care of myself. Thus I will need to make more money than them. And if you are a single woman in Pakistan, your lot can be harsher than if you are a single male. To begin with, your own parents will badger you every single day, and eventually, every single minute, to get married. You will get strangers offering advice and even proposals (proposals that most living beings will reject out of hand). Eventually, your female friends will invite you less and less frequently, and if they do then they will keep a very sharp eye on you as if you were about to steal their overweight and (financially) under-performing spouses. Mercifully, I was recently relieved to find out that single people are not the only discriminated species on this planet. Childless couples are now a competing category. In a rant that is as shocking as it is fascinating, Andrea Leadsom, Energy Minister and the last-standing rival of the now-prime minister of UK, Theresa May, declared in an interview that she would be a better leader than May because the latter did not have children. Leadsom went on to pontificate “I am sure Theresa will be really sad she doesn’t have children. Genuinely, I feel that being a mum means you have a very real stake in the future of our country.” I will write on childless couples later. For now, I call upon the single people of the world to unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains of stigma. The writer is a former lecturer in marketing, Cranfield University, UK