Advocating For Gender Equality

Oh! So you are the feminist type! You do not have to make it all about feminism all the time! You are given enough rights; what more do you want? I should watch my mouth when I speak to you!” Is one of my often heard dialogues while advocating for gender justice. I have realised that people do not know the meaning of feminism. Questioning my advocacy, being uncomfortable or agitated by my advocacy itself, answers that people not responding positively to such advocacy show male chauvinism. 

A few days ago, I came across a video where a group of women sang Bhailo in front of male leaders. Their performance was a reminder of the gender disparities that continue to plague society. They spoke about the systemic issues women face—gender inequality in every sector, rising violence against women, increasing rates of sexual crimes, pay gaps, acid attacks, and more. As a woman, it was heartbreaking to watch, especially when I, too, experience these injustices on a daily basis and witness others suffering in silence.

Let me share an incident that deeply impacted me. A few days ago, when some of my relatives visited my home, I asked what kind of tea they preferred. One relative, without hesitation, remarked, “This is what a woman’s life will look like after marriage—constantly catering to the needs and preferences of your in-laws, and remember, none of them will ever lift a finger to help. You need to prepare yourself for that.”

This statement didn’t shock me because it’s a reality I’ve always known. In many households, women are expected to take on all domestic responsibilities, regardless of their academic or professional achievements. It doesn’t matter how qualified a woman is; she is still expected to do all the household chores without complaint. It is as if women’s worth is only defined by how well they serve others.

What’s even more troubling is the double burden women face today. While women now have more opportunities to work outside the home, they are still expected to take on the full responsibility of housework. Society seems to say, "You can reach for the stars, but don’t forget to wash the dishes first." If a woman stands up for herself, she’s labeled selfish. If she struggles to manage everything, it’s seen as a flaw because she’s a woman. If she gets a promotion, she's accused of compromising her morals. If she's highly educated, she's deemed arrogant; if not, she's considered inferior. Misogyny keeps women from living freely and fully.

When it comes to understanding, compromise, and emotional labor, women are expected to step up. The common excuse is, “Men won’t understand.” But when it comes to professional work, women have to prove themselves by putting in extra effort, simply because they are women. And when it comes to abuse—be it sexual, physical, or mental—women are expected to remain silent, with the justification, “Men will be men.”

The most absurd part is that the same men who are supposedly incapable of controlling their urges are trusted to lead entire nations. Meanwhile, when it comes to cooking, which is traditionally seen as a woman's responsibility, the top chefs in the world are overwhelmingly men. This is just one example of how deeply ingrained gender norms shape our lives.

To those who argue, “Not all men,” let me remind you that the perpetrators are not just strangers. They can be a woman's friend, her partner, her teacher, her priest, her own father. Gender-based violence can happen anywhere—on the street, in a bus, in a house, in temples, or even in the home she shares with her family. Until the fear of "which man" is no longer a reality, it is, unfortunately, all men.

This brings me to the absurdity of the idea that men must protect women from other men. This notion is rooted in patriarchy. Take, for example, the story of Draupadi in the Mahabharata. She was blamed for the war that followed, but in reality, she was a victim—caught in the middle of the egos and power struggles of the men around her. She was a symbol of the ultimate patriarchal sacrifice.

Even though the Sati system was officially outlawed in 1977 BS, the underlying mindset still exists. Women are still expected to give up their personal desires, wishes, and even their identities for the sake of their husbands or families. Today, instead of burning themselves on a husband's funeral pyre, women are expected to immolate their souls—by giving up their rights to remarriage, their right to wear what they wish, or their right to live for themselves.

And then there are the men who, despite having no understanding of the female body, feel entitled to mansplain issues like PCOS to women, telling them what they should do to manage it. It is as if they can lecture women about their bodies without any real knowledge or empathy. Similarly, when women talk about the pain and difficulties of menstruation, they are accused of overreacting or pretending. Imagine if men were the ones who bled for four days each month. There would be a Period Day, a Period Ministry, and a national outcry over how to manage it!

As we look for solutions, education must play a central role in bridging the gender disparity gap. Article 31 of Nepal's Constitution guarantees the right to education for all citizens, but it’s crucial that we ensure quality education—one that teaches both boys and girls about gender equality, empowers them to stand up against injustice, and instills the value of mutual respect. Napoleon Bonaparte once said, “Give me an educated mother, and I shall promise you the birth of a civilized, educated nation.” I believe an educated and aware woman—whether as a daughter, mother, or sister—has the power to transform her family, and through that, the entire nation.

The Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) General Recommendation No. 19 highlights that gender-based violence is a form of discrimination that limits women's ability to enjoy equal rights and freedoms. The violence women face is rooted in deep-seated sexism and is reinforced by societal structures that continue to perpetuate these norms. Even in Nepal, women often have to fight a battle just to establish their identity or give their children their own name. In many ways, women are still treated as second-class citizens in their own country.

It is high time we internalise the principles of equality. Drafting and ratifying laws will not bring about change if there is no internal realisation within society. As long as the mindset of inequality persists, the people in power will continue to represent these outdated views. The responsibility lies with the people—those who are aware and agitated, those who are willing to use their voices for change. The power of the pen and the voice is immense. It is a tool for those who are voiceless and marginalised.

(The author is studying Law at Kathmandu School of Law.)