The day before I made the very risky yet necessary and courageous decision to get myself out of the horrible mess I was in was the day I was sitting in my uncle’s basement pregnant with my second child at just 20 years old. I was trying to persuade my uncle to allow me to get out of my marriage. “The only way you’re going to get out of this marriage is if you die,” he told me.
In January 2003, I was pulled out of school, forced to travel to Pakistan with my uncle and his wife and married to a 25-year-old man I’d never met. I was a 17-year-old high school senior. I was taken out of the country; my uncle and his wife – my legal guardians – told me that we were going to Pakistan to see relatives, but that wasn’t the case. Within a few weeks, I was married off to a complete stranger and left in a foreign country with him and his family.
Like many others, my marriage happened because of a loophole in Maryland’s law which allows minors to get married with parental consent. This is the ugly reality in many U.S. states, where children can get married if they meet their states’ often minimal requirements.
When I broke off my marriage at 20 years old, my first thought was, “I am worthy. My children are worthy. Our lives are worthy.” My second thought was, “Do I really want to live this life? Do I want to be stuck in this torture and abuse forever and raise my children with an abusive father in a toxic environment? No, we deserve better!” I then picked up the phone and cancelled my stranger ex-husband’s immigration process. “He’s not coming,” I said out loud after ending the call, feeling totally confident and powerful. For the first time, I put myself first. I put my children above any cultural honors or false family pride or shame. Raising my children in a dangerous environment was something I could never accept.
Through all of my struggles in my marriage and beyond, I held my head high and put my focus into a very clear and necessary goal: getting my college degree. All I could think of was my degree and finishing it within four years so I could give myself and my babies a real chance at life with all the opportunities that come with a college education.
I would not accept at the time that my situation was far different from all of my friends who didn’t go through a forced marriage at 17, did not have children at 18 and weren’t living in dangerous and toxic environments. Deep down, though, I knew the reality of my situation. Maybe I just didn’t want to accept the fact that the obstacles of my current situation might stand in the way of obtaining a college degree. Maybe I was very ambitious about what I wanted for the sake of myself and my babies. So that’s exactly what I did. I went against all the odds and graduated with my bachelor’s degree in five years.
I was so proud of myself for dealing with my situation in a positive way. I took it as a challenge. I did what it took to get through and graduate, even if it meant taking several trips from the daycare to my university (a 35-minute drive each way) just to feed my newborn daughter because she would not drink out of a bottle. Even if it meant requesting my professors (a BIG thank you, if you’re reading this) allow me to bring my kids to classes, or staying up most nights to complete assignments and study for exams with two babies demanding attention. Even if it meant juggling college, my children, fighting for my divorce from a stranger from another country and working several jobs with no time for anything else. I kept moving forward with the drive not to become just another statistic; the drive to give my children the best life I could possibly give them, where they would be healthy, happy, safe, supported and free; the drive to live the life I truly deserve and give my children the life they deserve.
I further broke cultural and religious barriers due to the abuse my children and I were experiencing at the hands of my guardians. I made the decision to move out of my uncle’s basement with both of my kids at almost 30 years old and into my own place, where I still live today with my two now-teenagers and our dog. That’s a huge deal in the South Asian Muslim community: Women just don’t move out on their own. I chose to live my life being the best example I could be for my kids. I’ve never viewed myself as a victim; I’ve always looked at myself as a survivor. I was the child who was in a toxic, abusive forced marriage, went through marital abuse and rape and three pregnancies (one unsuccessful), yet chose to look at my possibilities. I saw the problems, and instead of drowning myself in them, I looked for solutions and made courageous, life-changing decisions.
My battle is not over. As an activist to end child marriage, I lobby for the laws that can change the lives of girls and raise the age of marriage to 18 without exceptions. Fighting for the children who don’t have the resources or protection to fight for themselves is my mission. Mentoring survivors at Unchained At Last is something I have always wanted to do for other girls in my shoes. I know how it feels to not have support. Giving my mentees the tools, techniques and hope to move forward is so important, but why should there be tools and techniques in the first place when we can eliminate child marriage? I seek a world where girls have rights, where girls have freedom to choose and to be who they want to be and where child marriage no longer exists.
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