I come from a very small village in Punjab, Pakistan, where women are not allowed to pursue their higher education.
我来自巴基斯坦旁遮普的一个非常小的村庄,那里不允许妇女接受高等教育。
The elders of my extended family didn't allow their women to pursue their higher education or their professional careers.
大家庭的长辈不允许家中女人接受高等教育或从事任何职业。
However, unlike the other male guardians of my family, my father was one who really supported my ambitions.
然而,与家族的其他男性长者不同,我的父亲真心地支持我的雄心壮志。
To get my law degree, of course, it was really difficult, and frowns of disapproval.
为了拿到法学学位,当然那很难,还有因不赞成而紧缩的眉头。
But in the end, I knew it's either me or them, and I chose myself.
但最终,我知道,要么选自己,要么选他们,我选择了我自己。
My family's traditions and expectations for a woman wouldn't allow me to own a mobile phone until I was married.
我的家族传统和对女人的期望不允许我结婚前拥有手机。
And even when I was married, this tool became a tool for my own surveillance.
即使在我结婚之后,手机变成了监视我自己的工具。
When I resisted this idea of being surveilled by my ex-husband,
当我拒绝接受前夫要监视我的想法时,
he really didn't approve of this and threw me out of his house, along with my six-month-old son, Abdullah.
他绝不同意,并把我和六个月大的儿子阿卜杜拉一起赶出了他的房子。
And that was the time when I first asked myself,
那是我第一次问自己:
"Why? Why are women not allowed to enjoy the same equal rights enshrined in our Constitution?
“为什么?为什么不让妇女享有《宪法》规定的同样平等权利?
While the law states that a woman has the same equal access to the information,
既然法律规定妇女有同样的平等机会获取信息,
why is it always men -- brothers, fathers and husbands -- who are granting these rights to us, effectively making the law irrelevant?"
但为什么总是要男人--兄弟、父亲和丈夫--来赐予我们这些权利,而让法律变得形同虚设?”