How often do we hear a mother or a spouse described as “just a housewife”, implying an inconsequential occupation? While we use Jean Little’s much quoted observation, “A man can work from sun to sun, but a woman’s work is never done”, home is where a woman is the most invisible.

Husbands “protect” their wives by depersonalising them as Ghar wali or, in Japanese, Gusai [My foolish wife]. Career women may also consider housewives as leading less meaningful lives.

Barbara Van Schaik says many married women have a “derived identity” determined by the needs of her husband, children and, in some cases, new extended family. Her self-esteem and self-worth is validated with praise and devastated by criticism. Personal interests can be pursued so long as they do not interfere in fulfilling these responsibilities.

In reality, the home is a vibrant place of energy and vitality, where it is the presence of a woman that makes a “family”. Pablo Neruda’s 100 Love Sonnets to his wife, describes the kitchen as a bustling train station, with steam rising from cooking pots.

In addition to their housework, an estimated 10 million women, 80 percent of home workers in Pakistan, add to the family income, stitching jute bags, packing matchboxes, peeling and packing prawns and a host of other underpaid intensive work.

They contribute Rs260 billion to the national economy. Progressively higher up the social ladder, Gulshan Bibi of Haripur has gathered 600 women to make and sell craft products. Nilofur gets up at 4am to prepare Keto meals that her runner delivers to her clients. Maroofa runs a furniture workshop of 25 carpenters to support her children and herself.

Then there is Arshi, mother of a young teenager and wife of an estate agent, who writes beautiful poetry shared in tarranum on Whatsapp with her friends and family. There is no economic benefit or desire for fame. It is just an outpouring of the creative spirit and a way of coping with hardships.

Village women, after a grueling 16-hour day, sit under poor light to embroider, make colourful azarbands and ralli quilts for the home. As Judy Fraters writes, the use of personal motifs in embroidery reflect identity and personality far more than technique.

Embroidery made as self-expression is a woman’s canvas. Under the dictatorship of Pinochet, Chilean women embroidered notebook sized arpilleras, depicting the plight of “missing” relatives, folded and hidden in their purses until they could be smuggled out for the world to know.

Palestinian Tatreez embroidery has become a symbol of defiance. When Israelis confiscated the Palestinian flag, the women embroidered the flag, the Palestinian map and other national symbols on their clothing. Afghan women expressed the impact of the Soviet Occupation in motifs on woven carpets.

Across the world, quilting clubs bring women together as a community and were precursors to the Suffragette Movement. The 70-metre-long Bayeux Tapestry embroidered by mediaeval English women, depicting scenes from the 1066 AD Battle of Hastings, has become an important source for historians.

Women artists, poets, writers and craftswomen have contributed significantly to cultural history. Mary Cassatt immortalised the home life of women in her paintings. Virginia Woolf represented the inner world of women, as did the Bronte sisters, Quratulain Haider, Hijab Imtiaz Ali and Khadija Mastur.

Pakistan has a galaxy of women artists, poets, writers and actors, all of whom balance home and their creative contributions. Sisters Zehra Nigah and Fatima Surraiya Bajia, Noorul Huda Shah, Bano Qudsia and Haseena Moin have given us television serials and poetry that defined the times, writing in between their domestic duties.

Many housewives have turned their culinary skills into small-scale catering businesses. Television cooking channels are hugely popular, encouraging women to add interest to family meals. Zubeida Tariq’s iconic cooking show caught the national imagination, not just with her recipes, but her exquisite saris and accessories and her cure-all totkas [home remedies].

There are many artists off the radar — Aziz Fatima Kazi, Asma Pathan and Hanifa Jooma started painting once their children had grown up. Some housewives have a flair for interior decoration, flower arranging and fashion. At Karachi’s Memon Foundation, an average of 100,000 women enroll annually in craft courses.

Many women homemakers have skills honed over the years that remain an untapped resource. There is a need to adjust the lens to acknowledge, as Clive Edwards puts it, “Home is where the art is.”

Durriya Kazi is a Karachi-based artist. She may be reached at durriyakazi1918@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, January 23rd, 2022