Nepali student activist Asmita: I Talk, Loudly

The Past


This was Asmita’s schedule when she was in 8th grade, 14 years old:


4:30 Get up, clean the house and dishes

5:30 get fresh, brush teeth, dress up for morning school

6:00 morning school

8:30 first class finish, go home, help mom with cooking, go back to school

16:30 school finishes

17:00 come back home, eat lunch. Household chores until evening

19:00 cook. When men are done with eating, eat with mom. Afterwards, continue doing chores.

23:30 homework.


“My mom gets tired since she works a lot everyday. She has the expectation that when I come back home, there should be some food made so I can eat a little bit and rest a bit. But still, I hardly had time. Time for myself and my study. Again and again it’s the same routine for the next day.” Asmita says.


This was not only for Asmita, but also for all other girls in her village. With only 4 hours of sleep, most of the girls eventually gave up and dropped out from school. 


“My parents kind of want me to study, but so many parents don’t want their daughters to study. ‘At the end of the day, they are gonna marry some guy,’ they say. It is never voluntary though, they are forced to be married. Guys are supposed to take care of them. Then they are expected to take care of their husbands, kids and houses. None of those need an education.”


I feel privileged to go to school.” is the most shocking sentence I heard from Asmita, I have been taking education for granted. But in her village, “Most of the parents don’t want to invest in their daughters. They were also scared that girls were going to talk to male classmates and have affairs with them. Falling in love is very inappropriate. It is unethical, characterless. My parents are conservative, but they sent me to school. I felt privileged in that sense.”


Asmita has talked about this with people outside of this culture. It is difficult for them to understand: “For some people here, it is hard to imagine. 'Isn't it your freedom to be here?’ They often ask. But until today, my father still says to me: ‘if i hadn't given you the permission, you wouldn’t have been able to study in norway. And he is right. Even though it is a human right to have freedom, girls need that approval in our society in order to realise that freedom.”


For Asmita, education is what changed her life. Because of her resilience and excellent performance, she was able to move to Kathmandu- the city of dreams in Nepal for further education. In 2020, she received scholarships to study in Norway. After this summer vacation, she is moving to the US where she is sponsored to start a university degree. She is the first girl in her village to seek a bachelor's degree in a foreign country.


This special experience changed Asmita to a great extent, “When I was in that society, I was okay with everything. When girls like me and even younger than me got married, I felt fine, because I grew up in it. I thought that was the norm. But when I got out of it, I knew it’s unfair.” That was the starting point for Asmita’s activism.


She did not fight with blood and blade, she fought with love and care. 


“I try to talk with people, telling them child marriage is not right. I go to schools and talk with the girls. I let them know that education is possible and they did not reach the end of the world. I tell my friends different things they could do if their parents want them to get married but they don’t want to. I try to educate everyone that It’s illegal to get married as a child. The age limit is 20 for girls. I try to let the girls and their families know that they have different opportunities and options.


“My very close neighbour, she was told by her parents that she needed to marry. She started to cry when they told her that. She did everything she could to stop it. She didn't call the police, instead she threatened her parents that she will call the police if anything like that happens.” Asmita told me. 


However, Asmita also realises different challenges in this process: “The thing is, when I am there and talking to them, it will probably bring some influence to them. But when I am gone, again, they still live in the same society, still get the same influence. I cannot do anything about it.”


“That is why when people talk about freedom in Europe. I always ask them what kind of freedom they are talking about. Because for me, school is freedom; but for them, this is granted. If I wouldn't have gotten any scholarship, I wouldn’t have seen a future going this far.” 


 



The Now


“It’s hard when your idea is called ‘not yours enough’.”


“My parents are proud of me when I am here( in Norway), they are not proud of me when I am home.” In a way, me and Asmita both agreed that they were not proud of who she is, but where she is. 


Furthermore, “Even though they are proud of me, my parents don't treat me as equal.” Asmita says, “When I go back home, my brothers can go anywhere, but I need permission to even go for a walk. I have to ask for a walk with a plan including specific location and specific length.”


“It is not because they do not trust me, it is because of how society is constructed. They know that catcalls happen, or whatever happens happens. They are scared that I could not deal with it, because they haven’t seen me dealing with it. But I think restricting me is not the solution. It is rather important to teach their sons how to behave rather than restrict their daughters where they can be.” Asmita analyses.


“‘When you walk on the road, make sure you don't laugh, make sure to walk on the right side, make sure your shoulders are in the right position.’ this is what they told me, but they have never told my brothers that: when you walk on the road, respect every girl you see. When you walk on the road, help everyone.” 


“It’s not my problem that I am walking on the road. It is a road and I have to walk. They hear me, but they just do not care. I have to negotiate for my own freedom.”


“I feel suppressed, I want to go out, I want to breathe. But I am not even allowed to go for a walk. I could easily access the closest city, but I am not allowed. I travelled all the way to Norway, alone, with whatever situation it was, I managed. But they had no trust in me for that 6 kilometres away from our house.”


Asmita was not silent: “I talked a lot about this. They say to me that: I know this is coming from you living in another country. This is the Norwegian language you are speaking. It is so hard for them to understand me and make them feel how I feel.”


Asmita’s dad told her that “if everyone is going in this way and if you have a different direction, then it doesn’t make sense.” But she knew that everyone else was just getting used to the wrong paths that they were going. 


“You can get used to it, but would you have wanted it in the first place? Because you could get used to being in a prison if you were born in a prison, but do you want it?” I followed up with the rhetoric questions.


Even though it is difficult, Asmita still says to me that one day she will go back and do her best to change. “Leaving is not a good thing. You can always try to make a change. They are human beings, they will understand. All living beings will understand, it’s just the way of understanding is different. And it will probably take some time.”


For Asmita,  the past and now has been very opposing. 


I asked her what she would do if one day she falls in love with someone and her family wants her to marry someone else. I remember, it was 1 in the morning, the room got quiet, then she said: “I don’t know yet, but I will still have to go back.”


“I don’t expect my parents to pay for my study, I don’t expect my crush will love me back, I don't expect people will come to me when I am in a difficult situation. I just want to live a practical life. It happens that sometimes you fall. That’s why when I fall, I laugh.”


And I know that all along, she has a mission in her heart, a mission that nobody could change, only she could, but she would not.



The Me

“You are the most important person to yourself.”-- Asmita


In Asmita’s presence, you can always sense her resilience and groundedness. 


She shared her journey of self realisation in our conversation: “In many phases of my life I felt really dumb. I expected people to understand me. I expected them to be like: yes you are having a hard time. Or maybe they will start to love me. But those expectations never get fulfilled. At some point I realised: Me in this process is not me. That is the time I come into terms with myself. What is the point of me not loving myself and expecting from others? What is the point of me not trying to understand myself and expecting other people to understand me?”


In this world, the most important thing for me is my satisfaction. What kind of thing makes me feel satisfied could be different from others. So you really see the difference, because you are you. You are important, because you give other perspectives, because you are unique. Every single time I go through a road, I probably see a different thing that other people don’t see. And I think that’s important. People can judge me, but I am the only important one in front of this judgement, because I know who I am.”


When Asmita first came to Norway, many people asked her if she could talk quieter. I was one of them. But Asmita never changed her voice. 


“That’s the thing, it’s me. When I am myself, I talk loudly. I can’t talk slowly, quietly. I thought about it so many times why I am not soft. There were so many people complaining. I tried but I couldn't. So I accept it.” 


“ I know now that most people who love and care about me will accept me. The most important thing is when I am talking, what is the content I am expressing. Even if there should be critique, it should be about the content, not the loudness or the softness of my voice.”


“I talk, and I will always talk, loudly. For people and things I care about.”