Sindhi textbooks:
The invisible women

 

By Attiya Dawood

In my interviews as a feminist writer, people often ask me when I first became aware of the social exploitation of women. This question takes me years back, when I was just six and studying at a government primary school in Larak village. Seated on a wooden bench with my classmates, I would often recite with them a poem whose words I can still recall. “My dear brother, how I wish to sacrifice my life for you. A child as you are, you look so lovely but when a grown up man, you will be a great support to us.” I loved my brothers immensely but these words hurt me even then. I felt humiliated.

    Thousands of young girls read such text books even today. There is quite a possibility that most don’t feel the way I felt. To them, it may be the norm that a woman does not enjoy the same status as a man. Even as an infant, the son is far more privileged than a daughter. Education is meant to enlighten a person, but when the books carrying messages of gender biases are taught to impressionable children, their belief in such discrimination can only get stronger.

    CEDAW specifically points out that women shall not be discriminated against in school curriculum. So far nothing has been done to remove such biases from the text books. The poisonous seeds of sexual discrimination are constantly being sown from primary class upto the university level. It is ironical that in the compilation of the text books to be taught from class I to V, not a single woman of some intellectual calibre has been included among the compilers, although the women like Dadi Leela, Shams Abbasi, Aziz Akhund, Mahtab Rashdi, and Dr Fehmida Hussain are already serving in the Education Department. These distinguished women have rendered commendable service in education but strangely they cannot be relied upon in the compilation of children’s text books.

    There are quite a few shocking examples. The book on social studies at the primary level has a lesson on ‘village life’. There is a mention about hari (tiller) in the lesson, but not a word about the hard working women, although village women in formidable numbers are engaged in agriculture. In fact, the women in ancient human history were the first to introduce cultivation.

    In the primary Sindhi language text book, there is a lesson titled Suthiyoon Saheriyoon in which the girls have been instructed to do household chores, learn cooking and stitching and be good house keepers. The games prescribed for the girls are, playing with dolls and skipping with the rope. These are all stereotypical roles attributed to girls.

    The Sindhi language textbook for class II, written by Imdad Hussaini and edited by Mohammad Ibrahim Joyo, has a poem which is all in praise of mother but by a son who will grow up to give all the comforts to his mother.

    Another poem, “Let us play with the ‘lattoo’ of course shows a boy playing with the top. The lesson Kachehri (assembly) reflects the village life, depicting different professions and vocations — the woodcutter, the hari, the shoemaker etc. But there is no woman around engaged in any labour, doing any task. Makes one wonder whether the rural women are not engaged in any profession and remain unconcerned with the struggle of life?

    Even in the lesson on ‘holiday’, the women are conspicuous by their absence. The boys led by male teachers go to a village and enjoy the sight of vast green fields. While there is mention of hari no women are recorded as working side by side.

    The Sindhi language textbook for children of class III has a lesson titled ‘The truthful boy’ defining the qualities of a good boy. Another one tells the story of a labourer. Here too the woman labourer is not mentioned. Are the women not engaged in laborious work or the work they do is not acknowledged and counted?

    In the social studies for class III there is a chapter on Partition. All the characters in this lesson are boys and men only. Then there are chapters on “A visit to Keamari”, “Going around Clifton”, our natural resources, the zoological garden, the mineral production, the urban professions, the rural professions, the people’s welfare, schools, colleges and hospitals, the veterinary hospitals, the banks, pucca roads and the kachcha roads, the telephones and telegrams systems, are some lessons in the book but nowhere is a woman visible. In the mainstream of life, on the road or around a corner, in a lane or inside a house, a woman is nowhere. She seems to have suddenly vanished from the face of the earth.

    In the textbook on social studies for class IV, there is a chapter on population and professions. Here too, women have been ignored. There is one lesson on the social welfare institutions in which a character of one Parvin is mentioned. Students are further informed that there exists a girls’ medical college as well. At another place Salma and Rubina are found talking about social welfare bodies. But there is no mention about women in the chapters dealing with banks and better homes. A chapter titled the Red Crescent has a reference to girls and lady teachers. Another one is on the working of the provincial administration under which the judiciary, the Sindh Public Service Commission, the Sindh Provincial Assembly and education department function. But not once has there been mention of a woman.

    The social studies book for class V has a lesson on ‘National Security’. It provides enough knowledge about the different aspects of national security but there is no mention of women and their role in national affairs. Even assemblies do not talk of women. Female students in primary classes would never know that women are also elected to sit in the assemblies.

    Ironically, the Sindhi language book for class V, edited by Ghulam Ali Allana and Imdad Hussaini has a discourse about schools for handicapped children — the blind, deaf and dumb children. These are all boys and no handicapped girl is shown. A poem Qadam wadhae hallo carries sketches of rockets, aeroplanes and boys. And one on scientific knowledge and progress in life, girls do not picture at all.

    In the chapter on ‘civic responsibilities’ only men are shown, performing their civic duties, as if women have no business to dabble in them.

    In the essay on “The benefits of sunshine” all characters comprise boys and men. The section on women’s education exhorts the girls to learn and later be good housekeepers. They are not encouraged to have salaried jobs or join the civil services, or scientific research or even enter into politics.

    And to top it all, there is a lesson written for girls only. They have to learn cooking, stitching and household chores diligently. The one on cotton-picking does in no way acknowledge the role of women, when the fact is that it is essentially a woman’s occupation.

    As we move on to the lesson “Multan jo sair” it seems that only the boys were taken on this joy trip. The same treatment is meted out to women in the lesson on “Islamabad jo sair”, only boys and males are found enjoying the trip.

    Laughably yet predictably, in the lesson “Warzish”, girls don’t appear at all. But then sports is considered an all- male domain.

    However, having said all this, there are a few instances where girls and women in the textbooks have been presented in a positive way. For example “Bha bhen ji kahani” and “Bahadur bhen” are seen portraying the women more positively. In the lesson “Khedoona” Seema, a girl, is shown with a mechanical car, while a brother and sister, Maryam and Murad are seen talking about the moon and the moonlight.

    In another lesson Zeenat and Rashid, a sister and brother, both make a scientific tool. Then there are lessons on Hazrat Fatima’s jahez. Marvi is mentioned in a lesson titled “Watan ji mohabbat”. A woman is shown doing voluntary work as the country is at war in a lesson titled “Shehri razakar”.

    This is a brief survey of the Sindhi textbooks being taught to the primary children from class I to class V. Not a single woman has been employed to contribute her experience to the compilation. Only one female name, that of Mrs Farah Azmat is found on the title of Maths book (class II) which comes from the Teachers Resource Centre.

    This survey expressly shows the gender bias of our writers, intellectuals and the educationists against women and their mindset. It clearly defines the direction and stand they want to take on the role of woman.

Published in DAWN Education Translated by Hasan Abidi

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