(2024), FriesenPress, Altona, MB, Canada; pages 182.
Reframing My Worth is the memoir about a worthwhile journey of a courageous woman – a flight departing from the Fakirbari, Bangladesh to all the way across the oceans, in the Fraser valley in Canada, through extended bumpy rides. The first half of the book (chapters 1 to 7) narrates the fascinating stories of a traumatic childhood and atypical adolescence in Fakirbari and runs until the author lands an academic career in a northern university in Bangladesh and ends singlehood.
Fakirbari is “a cluster of households of close-knit extended families of a Saint” (p. 6) centrally located in Barisal, a southern area in Bangladesh, then East Pakistan. The stories of the university years in the capital city of Dhaka through the historical time of the liberation war of Bangladesh in 1971 constitutes an important chapter. Another chapter describes her work and life as the only single woman – not just unmarried but “unattached to a man” (p. 81) – in the department of political science as well as on the campus of Rajshahi University.
The next half (chapter 8 – 15) elaborates her life’s journey that plays out thousands of miles away on the other side of the globe. A brand-new phase of her life’s struggles starts as an international graduate student at the University of Manitoba – a reputable school in a mid-size city of Winnipeg in the Canadian Prairies. She kept going as an “academic nomad” (p. 119) until finally settling down as a tenure track faculty in a renowned university in British Columbia in 1995. The adventure goes on in the final chapter as she calls it an “innovative journey” (p.175) after retirement as a Professor Emeritus in the department of Gender, Sexuality, and Women’s Studies at Simon Fraser University in 2022. The 15 chapters of the 182-page long memoir is written in easy-to-read English language, and the progressive storytelling approach keeps the reader hooked until the end.
Life of most ordinary women and female children in the 1950s in Bangladesh, or East Pakistan at that time, was not easy. A lot of infrastructural and technological resources and amenities were beyond imagination for most people; education, especially at post-secondary levels, and employment opportunities for women were quite limited due to overtly patriarchal social structure. In that context, Habiba Zaman encountered extraordinary hardships as a female child in a middle class extended family.
She lost her father through an acute illness out of the blue when she was just eight-year-old. She had to face an uncertain future as the eldest of her three other sisters without the presence and intimate support of her mother. She had to gather incredible strength and resilience to be raised almost by herself with the support of extended families and kins. While she survived and eventually thrived through a heroic journey, she called her mother the “real hero” – a fearless fighter way ahead of the women of her time, socioeconomic and cultural context.
The author’s early life clearly shows the importance of kinship and clan system as a necessary social capital in an informal economic structure in then East Pakistan and later, Bangladesh. I could relate a lot to the socioeconomic and cultural contexts even though my life started a couple of decades later. I went back in time to my own nanabari (maternal grandfather’s house) while reading about Fakirbari – such a fascinating sociocultural and family hub! It was quite amusing to read about the gossips as a medium of social control written with much wit and cynicism for sexism and gender bias prevalent in the society.
As a student and lecturer in my early career in Rajshahi University, I could relate somewhat to the author’s experience – the academic and sociopolitical cultures including sexism, classism, regionalism and other power issues of the organization as shaped by the broader state politics. At the same time, her appreciation of the natural beauty, vibrant cultural and performing art activities, and support of a close-knit community on the campus made me nostalgic. Reading about a unique romantic bond between two aspiring academics as it evolved on the university campus in late 1970s, followed by the on and off long-distance relationships even after settling down under the same roof in Canada, was quite inspiring. This is an example of and lesson on how to nurture a beautiful long-lasting conjugal relationship based on mutual love, respect, care, sacrifice, and support.
As an immigrant woman starting life in Canada as a graduate student, much was relatable to the author’s life in academia in the northern hemisphere. Habiba faced many challenges, starting from the cold weather to thriftiness as an international student, financial and other uncertainties during the early academic career while managing childcare, learning how to drive and maintaining work-life balance in a new country and culture. She navigated all these through persistent hard work, meticulous planning and organization skills, inner strength and conviction, emotional intelligence and positive attitude.
In fact, her stoic view and practices in life tend to make the journey look easy and flawless. She probably has it in her upbringing because her mother, as mentioned earlier, was also an outstanding woman. Habiba shows a laser focus on education, career, and lifelong learning instilled in her through her father’s values and guidance since an early age. This is not a commonplace for an era when most middle-class young women were socialized to prioritize beauty, femininity, motherhood, and housekeeping. Even when they received education, it was supposed to increase their potential as desirable brides and mothers to raise better children.
Habiba Zaman left us an invaluable testimony about the life of a woman in Bangladesh in the broader sociocultural contexts and important landmarks in the political landscape of the Indo-Pak subcontinent as they impacted her life. At times I wished those were a little more elaborate. For example, on page 53, she mentioned attending the historical racecourse meeting where Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib delivered the famous speech of March 7th, 1971. Since she was not directly involved with student politics, I wondered if accompanying many other female students from Rokeya Hall was a free choice, or if there were any other influences. I would have liked to know a bit more about her personal experience at the meeting, especially her own thoughts and feelings about the speech. She also mentioned briefly about the authoritarian regime and the rise of right-wing politics as they impacted the university atmosphere on page 79 – 80; I thought a concise summary of the key incidents that happened in 1974 could have been added, especially for a reader not familiar with this pivotal political history of Bangladesh.
My heart was almost blocked while reading about the turbulent childhood and adolescence stage of her life and that part is my personal favourite. Narratives about her academic, professional, family and community life in Canada will be valuable and inspiring to many readers in South Asia, especially migrants and racialized peoples who often do not get accurate pictures about the demanding life of immigrants and academics in North America.
This personal story about academic career and life is probably the first of its kind for a female Bangladeshi-Canadian university professor. As a reader growing up in Bangladesh with Bengali/Bangla as my mother tongue, I did not need the glossary of ethnolinguistic terms added to the book; this is a thoughtful resource for the transnational readers. This also shows the author’s anthropological training and background. I share Habiba’s expectation that this memoir will “appeal to both young and old women who are interested in cross-cultural stories and women’s studies” (p. 10). I also hope she will publish a Bengali version of the memoir to bring it to the hands of many more readers and to inspire many more eager minds in Bangladesh in the future.
Sanzida Habib
Sanzida Habib, PhD; is an independent scholar, community educator and activist based in Vancouver, Canada.
