Courage to Say No

by Raana Mahmood

  Javed Khan called me one day. He knew we had not heard from the prime minister, and understood what a disappointment that was to so many women in the company. He tried to encourage me.

  “Dr. Raana, whatever happens, please don’t change. This world exists because of people like you. You are rare.”

  “Don’t worry, Javed. I will never change. I will bear the consequences.”

  That weekend, I drove out to visit my brother Rahat. He was always a good listener and a great friend. After I told him the entire story of Captain Arif and Dr. Sheela, and the pressure people are under to be part of their corrupt practices, he gave me some wise advice.

  “The one who is best friends with the decision-makers will get the CMO position. It doesn’t matter who the candidates are, or how many there are, or what their qualifications are.”

  Then he said something very profound, something I hadn’t wanted to accept, but now I understood to be true: “If you don’t want to participate in their corruption, then you must leave the competition to become CMO. You’ll never be able to compete with Dr. Sheela since you don’t use her methods.”

  A short time after speaking with my brother, and the next time when Capt. Arif called me to repeat the same favor, I told him I wanted to withdraw from consideration as the next CMO. I would rather perform my duties as a senior doctor.

  He listened for a moment than shot back at me, “You can’t continue working in the company unless you accept my offer.”

  “Why do you need me? You have Dr. Sheela and the others.”

  He dismissed me with an arrogant wave of his hand. As I left his office, he said to my back, “Your time will come, Dr. Raana. You’ll see.”

  Captain Arif’s wife, Sanobe, found out about her husband’s behavior from the wives of other executives. She became furious and left his house. She went to her parents, and in her absence, Dr. Sheela began coming home with him. When Sanobe returned, her neighbors told her everything. Captain Arif pressured her to accept his relationship with Dr. Sheela, or he would divorce her. But she didn’t want a divorce. Her parents were old, and she wasn’t educated and had no way of supporting her parents, her children, and herself. With divorce, she’d also lose her status in society as the wife of the general manager of Sui Gas. She had to accept Dr. Sheela’s intrusion into their marriage.

  Captain Arif began holding meetings in the evenings in the head office after the clinics closed. Attendance was mandatory for all doctors. During one of the meetings, one of Arif’s assistants handed me a note. It stated that I needed to stay after to meet with Arif. I crumpled the note up, and dropped it on the floor. I had no intention of staying. When the meeting adjourned, I mingled with the other doctors and headed for my car.

  The next day, another disciplinary letter was delivered to my office. I immediately sat down and wrote a reply. Since I had already worked the entire day, and the meeting ran until 7 p.m., I wasn’t able to stay any later. I further admonished Captain Arif to not hold meetings so late, and not to expect staff to stay even later when they have family responsibilities. I didn’t think this was the time to be delicate. The man was an oaf, and he needed to be taken down.

  After finishing the letter and sending it off, I felt a new level of fatigue, my emotional strength drained out of me. It was time I left this useless drama. I told my friends at work that I had reached my breaking point. It was time for me to move on to a position where I would be appreciated. My friends were disturbed. If I gave up, what would happen to them? I was the bold voice of resistance.

  Then Dr. Uqali called me from his home. He had heard from friends that I was considering resigning. He encouraged me to fight on as if I were some grand gladiator, and I could bring an end to all this with a swipe of my sword. I didn’t think ending the corrupt practices was possible. It was very much a part of Pakistani culture and society. Soon after, I received a note from former Managing Director Mr. Javed ul Hassan, extolling me not to give up and to keep fighting.

  These messages were like a cold drink on a parched tongue. I felt revived. With new energy to fight on, I was called into another after-hours meeting. Captain Arif made it clear that he needed to talk with me after the group meeting. After he finished his presentation, I stayed, despite the concerns of all my colleagues. He had staff present, so I figured he wouldn’t force himself on me with others around.

  I entered his office. He offered me a seat. I refused, preferring to stand. He closed the door, and we stood facing each other. In his tailored blue suit, he looked important, but the heavy, haggard circles under his dark bulging eyes, told a different story. A glint of desperation filled his gaze, as if my resistance to his sexual advances, which were as clumsy as a street vendor’s, had wounded him so deeply he couldn’t sleep. The thought that I had caused him a twinge of agony made me smile inside. He got right to the point.

  “Why are you struggling so much? You’ve complained everywhere, and no one will lift a finger to help you. To continue working here, you must do as I ask.”

  “My struggle will never be over.”

  He raised his voice. “It’s over. Your file is so full of complaints against you from all over the company, if you make any more accusations against me, I will ask management to begin an investigation. When they review your file, it will be over for you.”

  “All those are false accusations. You know it. My job performance is excellent.”

  His voice went suddenly soft. “I could force you if I wanted to.”

  “I told you already that if you try to touch me, I will kill you.” I held my chin up. A bit of defiance goes a long way in murdering a man’s ego.

  He touched his lips with his fingers and stared at me, weighing my words. This struggle was no longer about sex—if it had ever been. It was about his power over me. The thought that I didn’t quiver at his threats shook his most profound sense of identity as a man. It was so sad to see such a mean person in such a big job.

  I opened the door and strode out, past his three assistants at his desk, waiting by the intercom. Would they have listened in on Arif’s perversions? Was that part of their game?

  I gave one of the assistants a defiant glare. He stood at my passing.

  “You three are as shameless as he is.”

  The next morning, I sent a fax to the Ministry of Petroleum in Islamabad. I asked for an appointment with the Secretary of Petroleum, Gul Faraz, and the Minister of Petroleum, Ch. Nisar Ali Khan. I received a quick and positive reply from their Joint Secretary of Petroleum, Mr. Abbas. He had faxed me back that both of the men had agreed to meet with me. He even included appointment times and dates.

  I visited Islamabad and went to Gul Faraz’s office. He was sitting in his chair behind a table; he saw me at the door of his office, but didn’t invite me inside.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Raana, but I can’t talk to you,” he said very rudely.

  “Why not? I’m here, and I’ve come all the way from Karachi. I only need a few minutes.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t meet with you. You must leave.” He continued reading a file. I was extremely disheartened and disappointed. I went to his secretary’s office.

  “What happened? Why did he agree to meet with me and then refuse?”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Raana,” the man said. “Shortly before you arrived, he received few calls from a high executive at Sui Gas instructing him not to listen to you.”

  I tamped down my disgust with Sui Gas executives. I knew who the other secretary was.

  Dr. Sheela was very proudly telling everyone that her husband’s big brother was appointed to the ministry. I stomped over to Mr. Nisar’s office. Conveniently, he was not in. I left my name and contact information, and asked for a response from him directly.

  In Karachi a week later, I received a call from the petroleum minister’s secretary. He was in town, and he wanted to meet me in his guesthouse in Clifton at 10:30 that evening. Clifton was a resort suburb of Karachi by the coast.

 
; “The meeting time is very late.”

  “Don’t worry. We are sending a car for you.”

  I didn’t like this at all. Clifton was a beach resort. The time was late. And since I was being driven there, I wouldn’t be able to leave when I wanted to. This didn’t sound like a meeting arranged to help me, but rather one to entrap me in a compromising position.

  “I have my own car, and I can drive at night. But that time is too late for me. I need a more appropriate appointment. Can I see him in his office during business hours?”

  His secretary claimed he was leaving for the US in the morning, and didn’t have time the next day to meet.

  “When he returns, we can meet then.”

  The voice on the other line became angry. “Do you want to meet the minister or not?”

  “Yes, I do. I have issues in my workplace that need resolving.”

  “But you refuse to meet with him tonight.”

  “I’m not refusing. I came to his office in Islamabad to meet him. Why can’t we meet in an office to discuss the issues, and not in his guest house?”

  The voice took on an exasperated tone. “How can he help you if you don’t come down tonight?”

  “I’m not coming to his place at 10:30 at night.”

  “Then forget it.” The line clicked dead.

  After a few days, Mr. Abbas called me from Islamabad. He wanted to convey a personal message from the petroleum minister.

  I had a moment of excitement that he changed his mind about our meeting.

  “The minister wants to marry you.”

  I was too stunned to speak, and I almost lost my grip on the phone. What was this man thinking? Did he think I was stupid? He didn’t have business on his agenda when he invited me to his guesthouse. Justice was not on this man’s mind. I held the phone silently, unable to answer Mr. Abbas’s questions. The last thing I heard was the dial tone.

  Later that year, Captain Arif announced that all the doctors would have computers installed in their offices, and they would need training. I was told an IT expert assigned by the head office would visit my office to teach me to use it. Shabbir, an IT technician, showed up at my office a few days later. He was not only ugly and unkempt, but his entire face was blotched with acne that appeared to ooze. We sat in front of the terminal, and he began his tutorial by inserting a CD, evidently for us to watch. Only when the video began it wasn’t about computer training, but a recording of explicit pornography. I looked at him, shocked. I opened the door and left the room. He took his CD and slunk out without a word. I went back inside and slammed the door behind him.

  I was so disturbed, but was confused as to whom I could complain to. Captain Arif would just laugh at me. I called my friend Javed. He suggested I just let it pass since no one would listen to me. Other women were experiencing the same thing. He advised me that I should lay low at this time. With all of the political turmoil in the country, the end of the PPP and Benazir Bhutto’s government, and the rise of the PML and the Nawaz Sharif government, followers of the PPP were being pushed out everywhere, so there was room for the friends of the new government. I had voted for Nawaz Sharif with the hope he would bring an end to the rampant political corruption. But it was business as usual.

  My life at Sui Gas had come to a head. I would be forced out one way or the other. I didn’t want to go without a fight. I decided to take my struggle heard at the very top. I went to see the new Managing Director (MD), Mr. Moien. Three times, I stood at his secretary’s desk and asked for an appointment about an important matter. Three times, she went into his office to announce me, and three times, she returned saying he didn’t want to speak with me. The fourth time, I saw him sitting in his office, and his secretary tried to stop me from entering. I warned her to get out of my way, and I brushed past her, opened his door, and entered. Mr. Moien, a short thin man with neatly parted hair, sat behind his large desk. I said I needed to speak to him about an urgent matter. He invited me to sit. I spilled out the entire story, from the beginning to the end, not leaving out any salacious details.

  He listened very calmly. When I finished, he asked. “Do you have any proof of these allegations against Captain Arif?”

  “What good would proof do me? If you did a simple investigation, you would have all the proof you need.”

  “I understand.”

  When he didn’t say anything more, I added, “I will give you proof. But I expect action.”

  “Dr. Raana, if you can’t prove your allegations, you will have to resign.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You must promise.”

  “Yes, Sir. I will keep my word.”

  He nodded his agreement. By the time I reached my office, I had already conceived a plan to flood his office with witnesses to the pervasive sexual harassment in the company.

  I gathered many of the women I was in contact with in my office. None of them were willing to speak to the MD out of fear of losing their jobs. I argued with them that the MD would take immediate action if had more witnesses and more evidence.

  One of the women at the meeting laughed. She insisted that the MD Moien was as corrupt as Captain Arif. She emphasized that Dr. Sheela spent a lot of time with him in his office, behind closed doors.

  I did remember once seeing Dr. Sheela enter his office and close the door. I could understand their fears. I next asked if they would sign a petition with me detailing the sexual pressure they were under from managers. That was the moment of truth for many of them, and they refused to sign. They all were providing for spouses, children, and parents in some way, and could not risk losing a job that would be nearly impossible to replace.

  Before they left, one woman said to me, “Your hope is in the wrong man. Moien knows everything that goes on, and he’s part of it. He won’t do anything.”

  Possibly it was true, but I refused to give up. If I went down, I wanted to go down fighting.

  I started planning. I bought a small tape recorder. I knew I would eventually have another encounter with Captain Arif. When he called and asked me to stay after the next meeting, I agreed. Before I went to the meeting, I tested the recorder to make sure I could get a clean recording. I practiced turning it on and off as unobtrusively as possible.

  In his office after the meeting, we went through the same routine. He propositioned me, and then he said something that both bewildered and amazed me. The man’s capacity for duplicity and treacherousness was unparalleled.

  “After we spend time together, I will make you the next CMO. You are far more qualified than Dr. Sheela. Besides, you are more beautiful and younger than her.”

  “But you have been with her all this time!”

  “I was just passing the time with her, having some fun. I have always had my eyes on you.”

  I tried to smile to set him at ease. “I will think about it. Give me a few days. It’s a very generous offer.”

  He gave me two days to think it over, before I had to get back to him. At home when I heard his conversation, it was very clear. I was enthusiastic that everything would work out fine. When I didn’t call him for two weeks, he called my office and demanded I come to see him.

  With my recorder in my purse, I went to his office. He asked me about my decision. I told him I needed more time to think it over.

  “I need your answer now,” he said, impatience in his voice. “There is no more time left. Let’s go tonight. I’ll book a room, and we’ll stay together. Then you’ll be the CMO.”

  He went to his desk, picked up his phone to call the hotel. When he saw I was headed to the door, he jumped and quickly blocked my way, and locked the door.

  “Enough,” he shouted. “You have wasted my time. No more excuses. We will do it now in my office and get it over with.”

  It was Friday, and he wore a shalwar kameez, for the afternoon prayers, the Namaz e Juma. Standing by the table, he started to open his shalwar (pants).

  Outrage at this man’s perverseness overtook me. I leaned cl
ose and slapped him so hard across his face that his head flew to the side. A big red welt formed on his cheek.

  “I’ve told you so many times, I am not Dr. Sheela. I don’t want to be CMO.”

  I walked to the door confidently, unlocked it, and swung it open. He didn’t move to stop me. He stood by the table holding his palm to his cheek, with the other hand he was trying to hold his shalwar, but it fell down, and now he was naked, staring at me wide-eyed. I smiled at him tauntingly. His male staff, who had strict instructions not to open the door when a woman was inside, looked confused when I hustled by them.

  “I think Captain Arif needs you. He looks like he’s hurt.”

  I nearly ran to the elevator. I took it to the fifth floor, where the managing director had an office. When the elevator door opened, Moien stood on the landing with some other men. I took him aside. I was still burning. “You didn’t do anything, and just now Arif called me into his office, he said he would fire me.” I opened my purse and showed him the small tape recorder. “I have it all on tape.”

  “This is the proof I needed.” He asked for the recorder and said he would present it to an investigative committee of executives. “I will call you in a week.”

  I gave him the tape recorder.

  After one week, I received a call from the MD’s office, asking me to attend a meeting at the head office. We were to meet in the big conference room. I was excited as I entered the room. Seven executives sat at a round table facing me, as if it were a panel interview. I was asked to take a seat at a huge table in front of them. I had never seen these men before. After I was seated, one of them told me that they had conducted their investigation and they couldn’t find any evidence of sexual harassment.

  My shock turned quickly to anger, but I forced myself to keep calm. “Everything on the tape was very clear.”

  “We can’t find any evidence to back up your accusations. There was nothing on the tape that substantiates your claims, so based on the records in your file, we are asking you to resign, effective immediately. This will put an end to all of your troubles.”