My daughters are in agony. I am in agony. And I write this as a woman of so-called privilege in Pakistan. Six years ago, my then-husband forcibly took away my children and ousted me from our home in one tumultuous afternoon and I was left with nothing. He wanted polygamy. I resisted and asked for a separation. So he took everything away from me to teach me a lesson.
During my eleven years of marital compromise – in Pakistan, compromise refers to women giving in to unreasonable conditions – I was gaslighted into subservience. I became an empty shell of my former self with minimal dignity. I was advised that my marriage was unhappy because I couldn’t “handle” him, as though he were a stick of dynamite rather than my husband. “Why is Baba always angry and Mama always crying,” my daughters would ask me. I had no answer for them. That is when I realised how very different their childhood was from my idyllic one.
Some of you have followed my trials and tribulations in obtaining and then retaining and then regaining custody of my three minor daughters from their father after obtaining legal custody from the high court – my youngest had just turned three at the time. I was buried in frivolous litigation to intimidate and bankrupt me in multiple courts in multiple cities – Islamabad, Lahore, Karachi, Hasan Abdal, you name it – starting from the time he and I still lived under the same roof.
Imagine my anguish as a mother. Now multiply it by three hundred and imagine my daughters’ trauma as impressionable young children.
A wounded mother of any specie strives to protect her young and I did just that. Naturally, I was emotionally exhausted in the process. My children were traumatised. My tears ran dry. But it happened again and again – a cycle of toxicity. Just when things would get better, he’d come up with a way to restrain and conceal our kids during visitations and I’d have to return to courtrooms and police stations to get them back. I focused on rebuilding our lives. I succeeded. I never gave up hope on civilised coparenting. I wanted his family to get him help. They did not, even though they called him “crazy.” I wanted his family to stand up for our children rather than enable his behaviour. They could not, they said, because “he doesn’t listen.”
I realise that he is psychologically damaged and strangely insecure. However, using our innocent children as pawns is not right and must be stopped. This opinion piece is not about us adults – I am merely providing context. It’s about safeguarding my little girls. Please don’t feel sorry for me – I had a happy childhood myself. Please just feel empathy for my kids and do something to safeguard them.
I was their primary custodian in Pakistan. We were taunted, threatened and blackmailed, first with no child support and then with meagre amounts. I was accused of insanity with doctored medical reports in court. I was accused of changing my religion. My uterus was discussed by the opposing council to humiliate me in a courtroom full of men. My divorce was stalled for two years by bribing the cleric who officiated our divorce, during which time he contracted a second marriage using my forged signature for their marital contract.
I have had very capable legal representation throughout, but the system in Pakistan is not designed to support women and children. We are meant to go through hoops and suffer from delays in implementation, unlike most Muslim majority countries that provide rapid social and financial dignity for children and women. And keep in mind that I’m one of the privileged ones – just picture the suffering of so many others.
Despite all this, I did not want my girls to grow up fearing or despising their father. I did not think it was fair for children to be cut off from either parent, no matter how dysfunctional marriage could be. And so, less than two years ago, he and I talked. He convinced me to move back to his city with the children saying he would finally provide for their education, assuring me of a separate home with them. Since I had no family or career prospects in his city, I was obliged to be dependent on him as our children’s mother.
“Children need their mother,” he told me, “I’ll never separate you from them.” Indeed. He’s been in this world for more than five decades and still lives with his own mother. Surely an adult man who values his mother must realise that little girls need their mother too. I was thrilled at his change of heart. Anyone who knows me will tell you I’m not one to carry bitterness or revenge. I process, forgive and hope for the best.
And so, our children restarted school in his city, but there was no home for me. No house, no apartment, no contribution towards living expenses. Nothing to make it possible for me to move there. He had intentionally misled us. He refused to sign a written agreement about what we verbally agreed on and was known to our families.
My old maintenance case recently went into execution mode to help pay for the four years post-marriage during which I nurtured and educated our children. I am better schooled than he, but he had inherited a family business whereas I was a professional who was largely not allowed to work during our marriage beyond freelance writing and working for free at their school as well as supporting him in his business endeavours. It was all quite thankless – I was not permitted to earn anything of my own. He would give me some pocket money like a child. He made all the decisions. My movements were monitored. I seldom got to see my family and a few close friends.
After the marriage ended, I worked as a consultant and actively sought more suitable employment to pay off my debts incurred during separation and to stand on my own two feet. Today, I live in the Gulf, endeavouring to rebuild my life and career. Instead of a five-hour drive on the motorway, it’s a three-hour flight between my girls and myself. I was expecting routine visitations and regular phone calls since he has nothing to be insecure about when they are under his roof. However, he continues to file cases on me while our children are in his care. I got to see my girls just once these past eight months. I stayed at hotels in his city and saw them for a few hours a day. He did not “allow” them to spend the night with their own mother, despite our tears and pleading.
My former husband has now completely cut off our children’s access to me. I can no longer speak to them on the phone. No emails, no texts, no information whatsoever. I have no knowledge of my children’s whereabouts or emotional state or mental wellness or physical condition. They are now 8, 14, and 15. He has taken away their devices. His family members divulge nothing. His friends seem helpless. Litigation is ongoing and made lengthier with his characteristic delaying strategies – yet another false custody case filed at Hasan Abdal, among others.
Imagine my anguish as a mother. Now multiply it by three hundred and imagine my daughters’ trauma as impressionable young children. He knows that I cannot – on my own – afford premium education for two high school-aged daughters along with an elementary school for my third child. He is blackmailing our daughters along with me. He has us all under his control. And yet, he won’t stop.
Why does he keep doing this?
Because he can.
According to the NADRA database, he has listed me as the mother of his new son with his current wife – perhaps to control them too. He has also switched my children’s international school to the one his family owns. Their school no longer sends me report cards.
Everything’s under his control, and yet, the noose tightens around us. Why are my children still being punished to get to me? Is there a permanent solution? Can anyone reading this reach out to my children to reassure them? Can anyone reach out to their father to behave with decency towards our daughters and to his family to intervene? I have no answers, only questions. And this request: on behalf of my children, their father must be compelled to behave with decency and with ongoing supervision to prevent further damage to their wellbeing. Children’s rights must supersede adult egos.
The writer is a communications professional, published author, and single mother who tweets @Laaleen