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So!!! My recent obsession has been the Honorable Musarat Ahmezeb, Swat's prince Miangul Ahmezeb's widow, whose work I find worthy of acknowledgment and applause. The lady herself appears to be a gem, although I don't know her personally yet. Below, I'm gonna paste excerpts from her interview with NPR. Her website, which is primarily about her business in textile and its aims to revive Swat by giving jobs to widows and other women, can be accessed here: Ladore - Reviving Swat stich by stich
The excerpts are as follows. The original interview may be accessed here.
The excerpts are as follows. The original interview may be accessed here.
But in the shadow of the tumult [in Swat], a princess has toiled to return a touch of beauty to the troubled valley.
Mussarat Ahmed Zeb, 49, a princess of Swat's former royal family, is on a mission to revive the heritage of Swat Valley, "one stitch at a time."
"I'm working on the revival of the Swat stitch," she says, sitting amid of piles of vibrant embroidery.
When the Taliban started terrorizing the valley, Ahmed Zeb started training hundreds of women in the dying art of Swati embroidery. The electrifying colors and distinct designs are a legacy of this once princely state.
"Now this is called a punjara, meaning cage," the princess says as she fingers a vivid black cloth with shocking pink and royal blue geometric shapes. A woman depicted as a flower sits inside the cage.
"She's the center of it and this is her life. There is no outlet to it. She's a prisoner," Ahmed Zeb explains.
It's a "very old" image in Swati embroidery, according to the princess, dating to the time of her great-grandmother, the Empress of Swat.
From Princess to Widow
"I didn't know what it was. But I had a good husband. He was a gentleman. Men like him are very rare," she says.
The prince was shot dead in Swat in 1986 in circumstances still shrouded in mystery. At age 25, Ahmed Zeb was a widow with three children and one on the way. The trauma is painful to recall even decades later.
"I can understand a widow's pain, her suffering," she says in a trembling voice. "Being alone, bringing up her children. It's very difficult, whether you be a royal or a pauper."
Inspired by a Widow
It was another widow, a poor widow, who inspired the princess to open a training center where destitute women of Swat could learn the art of stitching — and make money. The woman's husband had belonged to the local Taliban that wreaked havoc on the area.
"Her husband got blown up. I never went into detail. For me she was a widow with children," Ahmed Zeb says.
When the woman approached the princess for help, she offered her the choice of getting a monthly stipend or getting a job.
"Her eyes lit up," Ahmed Zeb recalls. The Taliban widow wanted nothing more than to earn a living.
"It was then I said, 'Start something.' She's not the only one. There'll be lots of women like her," Ahmed Zeb says.
Women flocked to the princess as much for her conviviality as for her courage. In 2007 she returned alone from Islamabad to the Swat Valley as it fell under Taliban control. The militants left her alone, despite her distinctly un-Taliban activity of teaching women a trade.
Preserving Culture, Empowering Women
Ahmed Zeb's vocational institution, Ladore — it's named after a rare herb from the Swat Valley that was one of her husband's favorites — has expanded to three centers. One occupies one wing of a large, comfortable home she inherited, one of the royal family's private properties. The original fixtures and walled gardens of the home in Saidu Sharif, the old capital of Swat, are a throwback to an era before Swat was merged into Pakistan in 1969.
"This is not a charity," Ahmed Zeb says. "It is a business, and the women here are the shareholders."
Merchants and tourists buy the beautiful fabric, and the women can earn up to $150 a month, a decent salary in the area.
Changing Lives
The princess says her aim is also to teach women to educate their own children about independence, "so their daughters don't have to go through the same misery which they've been through."
The women who gather at the vocational center are grateful to Ahmed Zeb and say this royal with unorthodox ways changed their lives. The self-employment, embroidery, knitting and stitching, has not only provided a livelihood but has been therapeutic as well.
"I'm encouraging my girls to stand up," Ahmed Zeb says. "Avoid charity. Avoid begging. I'm there to teach you the art and the craft and earn with dignity."
'Mother' Protector of Swat Valley Culture
In Lahore, she careens through the wholesale market of the Old City, directing rickshaw drivers and stocking up on raw materials to take back to her women in Swat. This once stay-at-home royal mom has become an intrepid entrepreneur and bargain hunter.
"It's like a treasure hunt," she says.
Perched on a stool, glasses balanced on the end of her nose, the princess combs through the merchandise on offer and works up a sweat negotiating for a better price.
But the merchant who supplies her colorful threads requires no haggling. It's all affection when the princess assumes her position at Najaf Traders.
"They are the best, the best," she adds for emphasis.
From the well-worn landing in the shop she inspects the riot of thread colors that adorn the walls. The owner, meanwhile, bellows for an ashtray for the chain-smoking princess.
"This is the hospitality they give me," she says, laughing, as one of the owners declares, "No one can smoke in the shop, except Mama."
They have bestowed the title of "Mother" on the princess who is reviving her culture and breathing new life into the traditions of the battered Swat Valley.
"All I need is a market," Ahmed Zeb says, "in America."
Source: Princess Revives Swati Culture One Stitch At A Time : NPR
P.S. I love how they bend the rules for her regarding smoking
Eeee!God preserve this lady!
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