Have you ever watched the BBC series “Pride and Prejudice”?  I did and loved it.  The sway of beautiful dresses, lively music and the backdrop of a society based in reputation and judgement.  Something that stuck with me was when Lizzie, distressed, turned to her father pleading for him to not let her sister “make herself and her family ridiculous”.  Archaic, right?  That a flirtatious girl could completely ruin her family image.  But then it hit me.  Pride and Prejudice is a strange parallel to the culture I grew up in, as a Bengali-British young person.  You may ask why, and I have a simple answer for you, Izzat.  It translates directly to honour and prestige, but to South Asian society it is everything.  It is your family’s dignity and respect and what upholds your status in the community.  Your life is determined by izzat.


South Asian culture can be defined as “shame-based”.  You have the responsibility to uphold your family’s integrity and live for it, self fulfilment is the least of your priorities.  Cohabitation, queer identities and more – are all unheard of, as it may destroy the honour of the family.  Many south Asians grow up hearing, “what will people say?”.  It is a horrific cycle, as your personal life is watched closely and your family applies pressure on you to behave “appropriately” as the fear of being ostracised by the community pressures them into doing so.

 

The culture is inherently patriarchal, women are at constant disadvantage.  Izzat rests on their shoulders – they must; remain virgins until marriage; not move out before marriage; get married and raise children.  South Asian men are undeniably susceptible to forced marriage, but are not upheld to the same code of honour as women pre-marriage.  Even after marriage, women cannot escape the burden of izzat and the risk of losing it.  For example, if a girl behaves “badly”, her mother is blamed for “not raising her right”.  It is indisputable that izzat is a heavy burden on south Asian women, irrespective of age.

 

Izzat and its effect on the culture is a contributing factor to mental health problems.  Being oppressed and ostracised by your own community is damaging – and is only exacerbated by mental health being stigmatised.  In my native language there is no word for mental health struggles, instead only a term for “crazy”.  It is a taboo topic, and evidently it has affected how many south Asians reach out for help with their mental health.  According to the NHS, only 2,915 per every 100,000 Asians are engaging in mental health services, in comparison to 4,030 per 100,000 for their white counterparts.


It is undeniable that south Asian culture is beautiful.  I love the food we eat and the sense of community, but izzat must be redefined for our culture to properly flourish.  Izzat should not be everything.  Izzat should not be put above people’s lives.