“Her husband can afford to keep her like a queen, why does she have to get a job? These are the kind of comments one hears when a woman chooses to pursue a career in spite of the fact that she doesn’t need the money. So why do women who can afford a begum-lifestyle, choose to step out and sweat it out in the workforce? For some it’s a matter of pride, for others it’s a way of safeguarding the future, but at the end of the day, for most, it’s a way of preserving their independent identity.

“I had become a desperate housewife: overweight, shabby, depressed and purposeless. Now I get up with fresh vigour every morning; I have something to look forward to,” says Hadia, who believes that going back to the work field has done wonders for her public image, self-image and social life. For Faridah too, it’s all about self-image; when people ask her what she does, she does not have to say she is ‘just a housewife’, a term that she hates.

For Shireen, married to a successful banker who is doing very well in the industry, helping her brother run their father’s furniture factory is a matter of family pride.Though it requires hard work and a daily run to Korangi, she feels she owes it to her family to keep the business alive and kicking and make it grow. For Farah, an administrator at a school, it’s an alternative lifestyle. “If I was not working I would be sitting at home watching Star Plus, fighting with my mother-in-law, talking about tailors and masis, gossiping about other women and generally being an unfulfilled, unproductive person with a very basic mentality,” she says with a shudder.

Women who have had a taste of adversity early on in life often cling on to their career as a safety net against any unforeseen crisis. Uzma’s father passed away when she and her siblings were very young. Since her mother was a home-maker who had never worked, she had to wait for her children to grow up and be the next bread-earners.Now Uzma works as a teacher simply to stay current and be employable in case of any emergency or need. “Even though I love the begum life of rest and recreation, at the back of my mind I have a fear of not being able to work. So I put in some time in a part-time job to at least have a presentable CV if I ever need one. The money is just extra pocket money.”

Asma feels she owes it to society to be productive, to contribute, to do her share, to give back and so on. “We who have it all have to pull our weight and do something for the have-nots.” She uses her salary to pay for all the needs of the hired help at home.

But while the women themselves bask in their sense of achievement, many question their decision, often starting with their husbands. Hadia’s husband is not happy with her working, saying it results in her neglecting her ‘home duties’; Hadia is undeterred. “He was not happy with my staying home either when I was not working. At that time he would complain that I was feeding off him, and would compare me to working wives to make me feel small.” She believes her professional life has actually helped her domestic skills as well. “Being around other smart women I learn new things every day — a new recipe, where to get the best meat and fruit, or some home and people management tips. Domestic issues that used to upset me and spoil my whole day earlier now seem trivial and not worth the time or emotion.

Farah initially found it difficult to balance home and work. After a draining day at work she would come hungry and tired to a messy house and then have to prepare meals and clean up. However, with the passage of time, helpful tips from her colleagues and her own experience as an administrator, she has become organised and more productive at home as well.

That is not to say women who choose to stay at home are any less satisfied. Zehra for one, loves staying at home and playing the begum role. After she sends the children off to school she has a long day of rest and recreation ahead of her, napping, watching movies, shopping, gym-ing, salon-ing and going out with friends. When the children get back she spends time with them; nurturing them and managing her house give her all the sense of achievement she needs.

Misbah is a grandmother who has never worked in her whole life. Her life has always revolved around her home, her children and now her grandchildren and that is the way she believes it should be. “It is a matter of prestige (izzat) and good luck for women that they don’t have to work and that their husbands are well-off and capable enough to support them.”

But for some this is just not enough; they are the ones who step out into the world, seeking more. Amina, a counsellor calls it self-actualisation. “There’s more to life than roti, kapra, makaan. I want to fully use and explore my talents and my potential. I want to discover all that I can do and find myself and the real joy of living in the process.”