A Pakistani wife made the difficult decision to leave her abusive husband and loving family behind.
By Emma Pabera

After I served as a Columban lay missionary in Pakistan and returned home to the Philippines, I was overjoyed to be asked to return to visit our lay missionaries in Pakistan. In particular, I wanted to see Baji Hanefa (baji is a Punjabi word for sister).

I regard Baji as a mother, a sister and a friend. She is a gentle woman who worked hard as a street sweeper in the city of Lahore. This is in contrast to the norm, as most Christian men work as street sweepers while women work as housekeepers for Muslim families.

Baji and her husband were poor, but their hard work enabled them to send their children to school.

While in Pakistan, their son attended college, could speak English, and was a parish leader before he got married. I ate the occasional meal at their home and sometimes stayed the night. I felt at home with them, and they considered me a member of the family.

A Shocking Assault
When I visited the family one day, the children looked sad and quiet, which was surprising. They told me that Baji had left them. She had been beaten by their father the previous day.

At first I couldn’t believe their father could do this. He was a soft-spoken, hard-working and responsible man whom I respected.

But later, I witnessed one of these beatings one summer evening after she returned. I was sleeping and awoke to voices and commotion. The son was trying to stop his father from beating his mother with an iron tube. I was shocked because we had all prayed that evening before we went to sleep.

The three daughters, ages 11, 12 and 17, were crying, and I was terrified. I huddled with the girls in one corner. Baji’s son fell and hit his head as he tried to stop his father. Blood was dripping from his face. Relatives and neighbors came to help, and that evening we left Baji’s husband alone in the house.

The next morning, the girls returned home to attend school. Baji stayed with me for four days. When her husband was sober, I talked to him. We had a good talk, and he apologized to me and promised he would not beat Baji again. He also apologized to his wife.

That day he cooked delicious chicken for lunch and gajerila (carrots cooked in milk and sugar) for dessert as a sign of reconciliation. Everyone was happy. I told him that if he beat Baji again I would not return to their home.

A New Life
About three months before I left Pakistan, Baji left her family for good.

She had been severely beaten again when the two younger girls were in school and the son was working. She couldn’t bear the humiliation of her husband’s verbal and physical abuse. I felt so sad and cried a lot. I left Pakistan without saying good-bye to her. I thought I would never see her again.

I later heard she lived with her brother in the Sindh province, but not for long. She came back to Lahore to live on her own and be close to her children. Her husband won’t allow her to visit her children in her former house, and the children are prohibited from seeing her.

The children occasionally visit, but are careful that their father does not know. The two girls are now beautiful teen-agers. They, along with their brother who is now married, all still live with their father.

After I arrived in Pakistan Baji’s son brought me to her one afternoon. On the way I bought ripe mangoes for her. I found Baji living quite far away along a bad road in a one-room house with a small string bed, two plastic chairs and a tin trunk as her only furniture. We both cried with joy as we hugged each other. Baji is still the gentle woman I knew before, although she looks older, pale and unhappy. She hid her pain and suffering I saw in her eyes with a smile. I asked her so many questions.

She still supports herself, now working as a housekeeper for a Muslim family. Her son visits her if possible to attend to her needs. When I visited, she was looking forward to the birth of her son’s first child. I was moved to tears when she showed me the baby dresses, gloves, shoes, hat and pillows she beautifully crocheted for her grandchild.

In Pakistan, only strong women—and very few of them—have the courage to do what Baji did. Many live with their abusive husbands to suffer as a martyr or a fool. Baji suffers the pain of separation from her loved ones and the humiliation from a society whose culture is unjust to women.

I admire her. She may look weak, but to me she is strong.