This library has given young Muslim women a sisterhood of hope
Rehnuma Library, located in the suburbs of Mumbai at Mumbra, is a community of 350+ girls and women who read literature and fight gender-based violence.
At Mumbra, a neighbourhood widely recognised as one of the country’s largest Muslim ghettos, Faiza Shaik is among the few women who can move around late evenings, exercise important life choices and has a college degree.
Shaik works as a librarian at Rehnuma (translated to ‘Guide’ in Urdu) Library, a vertical of the NGO Awaaz-e-Niswaan, which for the last four decades, has been working to ensure young girls in the neighbourhood finish their education, find livelihood prospects and access counselling.
In 2003, Rehnuma Library was opened as part of the NGO’s efforts to empower young girls and women with exposure to Indian and global literature. It was launched with the intent to nurture a stronger sense of identity, alongside social and political consciousness in these women.
Today, the library, which also functions as Awaaz-e-Niswaan's center in Mumbra, has over 350 members, and has bloomed into a community space where women receive education, legal assistance and support with matters like divorce, polygamy, and domestic violence.
“Books incite curiosity in our women, and I often see that as the starting point to gaining autonomy,” says Shaik, who has been the librarian at Rehnuma for the last nine years. “We have seen such a large number of mothers and homemakers taking time off their daily grind to find comfort in the words of Riffat Siraj and Razia Butt.”
Siraj and Butt are distinguished Pakistani writers who dealt with gender and the complex social conditions of their times. “The younger girls are usually drawn to newer generation writers such as Umera Ahmed, Nemrah Ahmed and Farhat Ishtiaq who write on romance, religion and personal growth,” says Shaik.
In addition, Shaik has also been stocking up classical English literature and modern Indian authors including Chetan Bhagat and Durjoy Dutta. She often goes to book fairs across the country to buy popular editions in bulk for the women and girls of Rehnuma.
A window into the world
Yasmeen Aga, director of Awaaz-e-Niswaan, says their mode of engagement with the women of the community may have changed with the advent of technology and social media exposure, but their core values remain the same over the decades—“empowering our women with the changing times.”
Women at the library are encouraged to share their experiences of violence, oppression while also learning ways to overcome these situations.
While in the 1990s, they supported survivors of domestic violence and Triple Talaq, today, they complement these existing efforts with education—both academic and socio-political.
“Families are still largely opposed to sending their daughters to the centre. Girls are still given into marriages when they are very young. Many drop out of school and get embroiled in romantic relationships to escape the turmoil at home,” she says.
For these reasons and more, Rehnuma has emerged as a sanctuary where such real and enduring issues that otherwise remain hidden owing to the shame and stigma surrounding them, can be discussed and resolved with curiosity and commitment instead of judgment and rebuke.
Imara (name changed on request), one of the young women of Rehnuma, was brutally beaten up when her relationship with a young man was exposed at home. Her mental state was oscillating between anger and rebellion on the one hand, and fear and hopelessness on the other, until Shaik came to know about her situation.
As with many lived experiences of the girls of Mumbra, Shaik was quickly able to see the larger enmeshment of poverty, discord, alcoholism, patriarchy and illiteracy in Imara’s family that was threatening to erode her future.
Being a team of women, Rehnuma’s leaders often find it easier to forge connections with the families of their young members.
“I saw that Imara’s father was drinking and abusive, and both he and her mother neglected her over her brothers. While on the one hand, they wanted to shield her from the influence of the world, on the other, they wanted her to step out and earn money for the family by drawing mehndi,” says Shaik.
“Unable to bear these scenarios, the slightest attention from a young men—many of whom are addicted to substances and don’t have steady jobs—is all it takes for them to get into relationships that may not be healthy for them,” she adds.
The conflicts are complex, delicate, and require a trauma-informed approach. “While we cannot ask the girls to stop courting these men, we can build capacities within them to make sounder decisions, get educated and find jobs—while navigating domestic discord and poverty,” says Faiza.
Over time, Shaik and her team members encourage girls to bring their mothers to the centre to hold one-to-one dialogues with them, and eventually get professional counselling. Through months of work with Imara and her mother, Shaik—a counsellor herself—has helped heal their relationship.
At Rehnuma, the girls also learn English speaking, computer science and legal education. Once sufficient trust is established with the families, Shaik takes the girls on residential programmes that explore subjects like gender and sexuality, law, and LGBTQIA+ education, which are conducted by specialists in these fields.
Twenty-two-year-old R Sumaiya, a student of mass media, has been able to navigate her phobia of the police to become a confident young woman who can guide other women in distress. “I was eight years old when I saw my friend's father brutally beat up her mother. I accompanied her to the police station then, and the whole experience scarred me for years,” she says.
“But at Rehnuma, learning about our rights and practical concepts like filing petitions, and the laws and legislations that support us, helped me overcome this fear. With this knowledge, I am now able to help others in distress situations,” she says.
At Rehnuma, Sumaiya, like every other woman at Mumbra, can subscribe to books at Rs 100 a month, and has found a safe space to wear what she wants, engage freely about issues that remain taboo within her community, learn about the world and most importantly, unwind.
“It is like a big family of sisters and mothers,” she says. “We share many of the same struggles and wounds.
And so we can also create joys and victories that deeply matter to each of us, and our future generations.”
Edited by Megha Reddy
