A Woman on a Suitcase by Shazaf Fatima Haider is a masterful blend of humour, minimalism and depth.
The woman in question is one Seema Hyderi, who walks away from her husband’s house, suitcase in tow, after being evicted for the third time in a marriage of ten months. Set in Karachi Pakistan, the seemingly straightforward story evolves into a poignant observation on the intricacies of arranged marriages and joint families.
As the story unfolds, Seema finds herself navigating generational and cultural gaps in the backdrop of her parent’s fractured relationship but also finds moments of solace in her rekindled love for painting—unwelcome at her marital abode—and small acts like exploring sexual satiation without resorting to infidelity. Despite her family’s dysfunction, desertion of friends, and her own creative, rebellious streak, Seema’s moral compass remains intact!
Moreover, the company of extended family, like her cousin Maliha in Karachi and Uncle Fauzi in London, offers encouragement when she feels stifled by her mother’s limited understanding of her situation.
Shazaf Fatima Haider’s writing is minimalistic yet richly evocative, eschewing tear-baiting for nuanced storytelling. There are no literary theatrics or word salads—just an effortless ability to balance a light, humorous tone with profound observations. When she considers walking away after the third eviction “Seema wished she had a few broken bones to justify what she was contemplating,” or when referring to her parent’s relationship, irrevocably broken after an affair, Seema remarks, “and they all lived unhappily ever after.”
The story delves into the many forms of abuse—emotional manipulation, neglect, and the gradual erosion of self-worth—rather than just physical violence
Shazaf’s ability to steer clear of clichés or oversimplification is commendable. She avoids the usual trappings of exoticizing desi quirks or ‘whitewashing’ brown concerns for the consumption of a global audience. This lends an endearing authenticity and realism to her story and her writing.
To me, where the novel really shines is how Seema’s voice remains admirably and, rather comfortingly, consistent. It's not like one minute, she’s a bumbling idealist who somehow matures overnight. There is no singular aha moment and neat happily ever afters. The shadow of family dynamics and her own cultural conditioning looms large, making Seema see-saw between hope and despair, despite the many hard-won victories: “One day, she berated herself for messing things up; the next, she felt something tentative and solid that refused to give in to the darkness of what-ifs.” Similarly, the yearning for validation from Maa Jee- her mother in law- to eventually recognizing the woman’s covert toxicity is a believable transition that corresponds with Seema’s evolving sense of self.
The story also delves into the many forms of abuse—emotional manipulation, neglect, and the gradual erosion of self-worth—rather than just physical violence while underscoring how abusers or victims, for that matter, have no gender. Abuse can be unleashed, as much, by foreign-educated husbands with anger management issues as by long-suffering wronged mothers or matchmakers who relish in age, colour and body-shaming. In the same vein, if women are expected to sacrifice their individuality on the altar of marriage and domesticity, patriarchy stifles men like Seema’s father, Jameel Khan, whose lifelong yearning for “open spaces and the wild seas” is sidelined for the relentless grind of providing for his family at “a little desk with ledgers of paper”- ultimately pushing him towards premature dementia.
The characters are richly drawn, complex, and deeply human, inspiring a range of emotions in the reader. From revulsion, in the case of Ameen, Seema’s sister-in-law’s abusive husband, to providing subtle context to the actions of Momin, Seema’s ex, struggling under the weight of his father’s expectations and his mother’s overbearing love or morbid fascination epitomised by Maa Jee, Seema’s mother-in-law. Ma jee, one of the best written characters I’ve recently read, is a prototype of the sacrificing woman canonized in the collective desi imagination. Yet here we learn how perpetuating hurt on the women around her is the price she exacts for her own martyr-like suffering. It is immeasurably sad because in Ma jee you recognise many women around you stoically enduring the same fate, yet also deeply unsettling in how they will, likely, perpetuate the very systems that hurt them, rationalizing the abuse, much like Ma jee as “chains on your own neck meant to be welcomed as ornaments” and lecturing Seema on the futility of “rebelling against their weight”.
And then there is Mrs Khan or “The Khan” as uncle Fauzi calls her! Based on Pakistan’s most famous matchmaker of the same name, the dialogues mouthed by the character are so realistic that one can actually hear them in the real Mrs Khan’s screechy tone blaring from a TV set: “When women start to have opinions and then begin speaking out, that’s the beginning of the end” or “When a husband comes home, we take his shoes off, have warm food on the stove, and fresh rotis to serve.”.
It is truly fascinating and a nod to her craft, how Shazaf illustrates psychological phenomena like narcissistic abuse, generational trauma, internalised misogyny, people pleasing, red flags, trauma bonding and much else through the actions and choices of her characters without ever stating the actual terms. Hurt by her own mother’s emotional absence, Seema forges a ‘trauma bond’ with her mother-in-law, mistaking it for genuine affection. Her parent’s- Jameel and Somayya Khan’s unresolved conflict and their life choices in its wake are “unhealthy coping mechanisms’ whose lasting effects on Seema are a cautionary note on ‘generational trauma’. The ‘internalized misogyny’ of the battered Muneera is chilling in its accuracy when she regards Seema with intense disdain-even resorting to hitting her- for standing up to domestic abuse, which she dare not. And the ‘red flags’ surrounding Momin are revealed in minute details, like him failing to remember her favourite variety of flowers or intensely despising her real hair texture.
In summary, A Woman on a Suitcase is a delightful and thought-provoking novel that is enchanting, sobering and funny in equal measure making it a standout piece from contemporary Pakistani literature.