Latest news with #HabibUniversity
Express Tribune
28-04-2025
- General
- Express Tribune
'Seat 1C' launched with life lessons from a plane crash
Zafar Masud, the banker who miraculously survived the plane crash in Karachi five years ago involving the national airline, shared his story at the launch of his book, Seat 1C. Speaking at the event, he stated "I wrote this book primarily for myself, but it contains life lessons that can be beneficial for everyone." The book not only narrates his personal story but also addresses important topics such as mental therapy, the significance of traditions, courage, arrogance, and "survivor's guilt." Following the book launch, Masud was invited for a discussion and Q&A session at Habib University, where he spoke about the experiences, emotions, and reflections before, during, and after the crash, as captured in his book. The session was moderated by journalist Naveen Naqvi, and was attended by literary circles, academia, students, various figures from the banking sector, and professionals from different fields. Masud, who is also the president of the Bank of Punjab, claimed that surviving a plane crash is an experience unlike any other, and that extensive research went into the background of the book, drawing from survival stories around the world. He emphasised that in life, certain lessons are crucial and must not be overlooked, stressing that the book does not promote any political ideology; rather, it focuses on history, research, and life lessons valuable to all individuals. Masud also mentioned that literature is the best medium to express themes related to education and the economy, and this belief motivated him to write the book, which he believes can especially serve as a learning resource for youth and students. He shared that one of his favorite chapters is about rituals, where he recounts the kindness of people who immediately came to his aid after the crash. He recalled how the vehicle that transported him was later destroyed, but he remained deeply grateful for the good people who were there for him at the right time. The book also dedicates an entire chapter to the topic of arrogance, shedding light on the possible causes of the plane crash. According to Masud, the pilot's overconfidence was a major factor; despite warnings from his subordinates about landing issues, the pilot chose not to listen. Masud stated "I am an optimistic person. Without the prayers of my grandfather and the help of good people, I wouldn't be here today. Courage means not fleeing from challenges but standing firm."
Express Tribune
14-04-2025
- Politics
- Express Tribune
Need for globally competitive, future-ready universities
Pakistan's future depends on the quality of its higher education system. The need is not for just more universities, but for better ones - future-ready, globally competitive institutions that integrate artificial intelligence (AI), foster inclusion, align with future job markets, and empower students to lead and innovate. While some bright spots exist - LUMS in Lahore, NUST in Islamabad, and Habib University in Karachi - our ambitions must go further. We must dare to build universities that don't merely keep pace with the world, but help shape it. It's time to stop asking whether Pakistan can build world-class universities. The real question is: can we afford not to? Our young population is bursting with potential. Let us give them the institutions they deserve - innovative, inclusive, intelligent. Let us imagine, plan, and build such institutions - not in twenty years, but now. With a population exceeding 250 million, Pakistan ranks as the fifth most populous nation in the world. But it is not just the size of our population that matters - it is its youthfulness. Two-thirds of our people are under 30, placing Pakistan among the top three countries globally with the largest college-age population. This extraordinary demographic could be our greatest national asset - or our most tragic missed opportunity. Yet we see signs of the latter. Despite having over 240 higher education institutions, only 3 million students are enrolled - just 11 per cent of the eligible youth. Meanwhile, in 2022 alone, over 760,000 Pakistanis emigrated in search of better education and employment prospects abroad. To retain our brightest minds and prepare them for an increasingly complex and technologically advanced world, we must rethink what it means to be a university in the 21st century. Our institutions must go beyond issuing degrees - they must become engines of innovation, and global relevance. This demands a radical shift in how we teach, learn, and assess. A future-ready university begins with a firm commitment to student-centred learning. The outdated model of one-size-fits-all lectures must give way to personalised, flexible, and engaging approaches that cater to diverse learning styles. Instead of producing passive learners, we must foster curiosity, problem solving, and critical thinking skills. Equally important is a deep commitment to equity and inclusion. Access to quality education must not be limited by gender, geography, ability, or economic background. A truly competitive university ensures that students from all walks of life can thrive - by offering need-based financial aid, ensuring physical and digital accessibility, and cultivating a campus culture grounded in respect and diversity. No conversation about the future of education is complete without addressing AI. Artificial Intelligence is transforming the way the world works - and the way it learns. In the university of tomorrow, AI will not be a supplementary tool - it will be a central force in teaching, learning, and assessment. AI-driven platforms can personalise learning paths, offer real-time feedback, automate assessments, and provide early warnings when students struggle. For faculty, this means more time to mentor and innovate. For students, it means more relevant, efficient, and engaging learning experiences. But AI is not just a tool - it is also a subject. Our graduates must be AI-literate, ethically grounded, and equipped to navigate the implications of this technology in whatever field they pursue. To be globally competitive, our universities must align curricula with the evolving demands of the job market. Employers today seek more than academic knowledge - they want graduates who can apply their skills in real-world settings. This calls for stronger partnerships with industry, the integration of internships and cooperative learning, and a shift towards competency-based education. Creativity, collaboration, emotional intelligence, and entrepreneurship must be woven into every programme, preparing students not just for jobs, but for future leadership. Equally vital is the physical and digital infrastructure of the campus. A smart university is digitally connected, environmentally sustainable, and designed to support both in-person and remote learning. High-speed internet, smart classrooms, hybrid teaching platforms, and virtual collaboration spaces must become standard. But smart infrastructure also means safe, welcoming, and inclusive spaces that encourage students to explore, create, and belong. None of this is possible without empowered and future-ready faculty. Our educators are not just conveyors of knowledge - they are catalysts for transformation. Universities must invest in continuous faculty development, encouraging the adoption of inclusive pedagogies, interdisciplinary research, and digital teaching tools. The metrics of academic success must evolve too - rewarding not only research productivity, but also teaching innovation, mentorship, and societal impact. If Pakistan is to realise its full potential, we must stop thinking of universities as factories for producing graduates. They must become the incubators of bold ideas, courageous leadership, and inclusive progress. We must design institutions that help shape not just the futures of individual students, but the future of Pakistan as a whole. The stakes are too high to delay. In this pivotal moment of our national journey, we must commit to building the kinds of universities that our youth - and our country - deserve. Let us be ambitious, bold, and uncompromising in our vision. The clock is ticking, and the future will not wait. The time to act is not tomorrow. It is today.
Express Tribune
08-03-2025
- Politics
- Express Tribune
Wujuud-i-Zan: Mussamat Tajo's fight for justice
Zoya Sameen's Wujuud-i-Zan talk explored Musammat Tajo's 14-year legal battle against colonial expulsion and injustice On February 21st, 2025, Habib University hosted a thought-provoking one-day conference titled Wujuud-i-Zan, focusing on women in academia: scholars, artists, and activists. The event fostered a transdisciplinary dialogue on gender performance and perception, bringing together voices from diverse fields to explore the complexities of women's roles in society. As a Habib University alumna, attending this conference was a bittersweet experience. It was a return to an intellectual space I had cherished as a student, but this time, I was there not to discuss the event in class but to cover it as a professional. The shift in context was both nostalgic and empowering. One of the panels that particularly captivated me was 'Colonial Modernity and the Gendered Subject', especially the subsection led by Zoya Sameen, a historian specializing in gender, law, and empire in 19th and 20th-century South Asia. Her talk, titled 'This Woman is a Most Undesirable Person': Tajo vs. Frontier Crimes Regulation in the Balochistan Agency', delved into the intricate ways colonial and patriarchal systems policed women, particularly those involved in sex work, and how these systems intersected with legal and social frameworks. Her presentation began by outlining the colonial state's multifaceted approach to policing women, particularly those engaged in prostitution. She identified four distinct regimes of control that evolved over the 19th and 20th centuries: 1. Criminalization: In the late 19th century, women suspected of being sex workers were criminalized and policed under vague and often discriminatory laws. 2. Expulsion: Following the repeal of the Contagious Diseases Act, women were expelled from military spaces, creating a new set of challenges as they were forced into less surveilled areas. 3. Relocation: In the 20th century, municipal governance played a key role in relocating women to designated red-light districts, effectively segregating them from the rest of society. 4. Deportation: In some cases, women were not just relocated but deported, often under harsh legal frameworks like the Frontier Crimes Regulation (FCR). While sex work itself was not explicitly criminalized, laws like the Suppression of Immoral Traffic Act targeted the surrounding economic and social structures—brothel-keeping, public solicitation, and property leasing for sex work. This approach created an intricate system of control, reflecting the collaboration between colonial governance and patriarchal nationalism to regulate women's bodies and movements. At the heart of Sameen's talk was the case of Musammat Tajo, a woman whose life and struggles epitomized the gendered injustices of colonial rule. Tajo, a sex worker in Quetta, was expelled from the city in 1923 under Section 36 of the Frontier Crimes Regulation (FCR). This section granted the Balochistan Agency the power to expel individuals deemed 'dangerous' or likely to cause 'bloodshed'—terms so vague that they could be applied to anyone, particularly women like Tajo. Tajo's expulsion was justified on the grounds that her presence in Quetta would disrupt peace and lead to violence. This reasoning, however, was deeply gendered. Tajo was blamed for the conflicts between three men—her former husband, Ghulam Rasool; her lover, Ahmed Ali Shah; and another man, Nur Mohammad. Despite the men's involvement in the disputes, it was Tajo who bore the brunt of the legal consequences. Her status as a sex worker made her a convenient scapegoat, and she was expelled from Balochistan without recourse to justice. Over the next 14 years, Tajo tirelessly petitioned for her return to Quetta. Her brother also appealed on her behalf, arguing that the circumstances of her expulsion no longer applied—her former husband had remarried, and her lover had left the city. Despite these efforts, her petitions were repeatedly rejected. In 1931, the Agent to the Governor General (AGG) dismissed her appeal with the chilling statement: 'This woman is obviously a most undesirable person and is likely to cause more trouble if allowed to return to Quetta.' Tajo's identity as a sex worker and her perceived 'undesirability' overshadowed any consideration of her rights or humanity. Tajo's story, however, is not just one of victimization. Her relentless petitions and appeals demonstrate her agency and resilience in the face of systemic oppression. She refused to accept the colonial state's verdict and continued to fight for her right to return home. Her case highlights how women like Tajo engaged with the law, not just as passive subjects but as active participants who read, manipulated, and reshaped legal categories to challenge their oppression. Tajo's case offers us a window into the realities of colonial legal power, empire, and its impact on women's lives. It shifts the focus from governance as an abstract ideology to its everyday application, revealing how colonial and patriarchal systems intersected to control women's bodies and movements. At the same time, it underscores the ways in which women like Tajo resisted and reshaped these systems, exposing the instability and contradictions of colonial authority. As I left the conference, I reflected on the enduring relevance of Tajo's story. Her struggles remind us of the importance of centering marginalized voices in our understanding of history and justice. They also challenge us to confront the legacies of colonialism and patriarchy that continue to shape our world today. Tajo's resilience is a testament to the power of resistance and the enduring fight for dignity and equality—a fight that remains as urgent now as it was in her time. In the end, Wujuud-i-Zan was not just a conference but a celebration of women's voices, past and present, and a call to continue the work of dismantling the systems that seek to silence them. Tajo's story, like so many others, is a reminder that history is not just about the powerful but also about those who, against all odds, refuse to be erased
Express Tribune
08-03-2025
- General
- Express Tribune
Wujuud-i Zan: The 'man-els' take a seat
Women at Habib University challenge academia's gendered norms, proving their scholarship isn't just 'adding color.' On Friday, February 21, 2025, Habib University hosted Wujuud-i Zan, a one-day conference dedicated to celebrating and reflecting on the achievements of women in research, scholarship, and activism. Organized by Zahra Sabri, a lecturer of Comparative Humanities at Habib University who teaches Urdu literature and Indo-Islamic history, the event brought together academics, journalists, and artists from across Karachi to explore the multifaceted contributions of women in and beyond academia. The conference featured a series of panels, including 'Gender, Autonomy, and the Politics of Selfhood,' 'Migration, Space, and Memory in Karachi,' and a book discussion on 'TAPESTRY: Strands of Women's Struggles Woven into the History of Pakistan.' with pioneering and award winning Pakistani journalist Zubaida Mustafa. A day devoted to celebrating and reflecting on the hard-earned achievements of women scholars from various universities in Karachi, the conference featured presentations of diverse research alongside a roundtable discussion that delved into the lived experiences of women scholars across diverse fields. I had the pleasure of attending the roundtable discussion titled 'Women in Academia: Institutional Barriers, Epistemic Resistance, and Knowledge Production', which allowed a space for the panelists to informally discuss the systemic challenges faced by women scholars and their strategies for navigating and overcoming obstacles in their respective fields. In her opening remarks, Zahra Sabri highlighted the systemic challenges that hinder female excellence in Pakistan. She noted that while women abroad often rise to the top of their fields in disciplines like the Humanities and STEM, the same is rarely true for women who have built their careers entirely within Pakistan. This disparity, she argued, stems from deeply rooted systemic barriers that make scholarly achievement one of the most difficult arenas for women to gain representation in. Sabri reflected on the historical struggle for female literacy in Pakistan, a challenge that persists in many forms today, emphasizing the long years of dedication required to earn a PhD or a terminal degree in any field, compounded by the additional barriers women face even after achieving these qualifications. These obstacles, she explained, make it exceptionally rare for women in Pakistan to reach the highest ranks of academic recognition. I often find myself in the audience of academic panels — i.e. "man-els" — where the disproportionate number of men onstage end up talking over their female colleagues. It makes you wonder: how aggressive does a woman need to be to snatch back the mic? And what would it feel like to be in the audience of a panel with only women on stage? There is an unfortunate tendency to assume that a woman's presence at an academic conference is merely to fill a quota or "add colour and femininity," rather than to contribute substantively to the discourse. Wujuud-i Zan, Sabri asserted, aimed to genuinely celebrate women who excel in their work and was a deliberate effort to challenge such perceptions, honoring the intellectual rigor and achievements of women scholars in Karachi. Drawn from Allama Iqbal's famous sher, the title for the conference, which translates to 'the existence of woman' or 'the feminine', plays on the narrow minded tendency of male-dominated poetic and academic discourse about women: وجود زن سے ہے تصویر کائنات میں رنگ اسی کے ساز سے ہے زندگی کا سوز دروں (The existence of the feminine brings colour to the portrait of the universe Hers is the lyre that sings warmth and feeling into this life) The popular interpretation of Iqbal's sher often reduces women to the role of mothers of the nation—the bearers of the future, the life of households, and the providers of support, care, and colour. While these roles are important, they present a very narrow, reductive 'portrait of the universe'. Women are not confined to certain fields like nursing or teaching 'soft' subjects; their contributions span across all areas of knowledge and expertise. This conference was a powerful reminder that women's scholarship belongs everywhere, not just in spaces traditionally deemed "feminine." One of the key themes that emerged was thus the rejection of the notion that there is such a thing as a "women's subject" or a "women's area." Women's scholarship cannot—and should not—be reduced to a narrow set of fields or topics. When asked what has empowered them throughout their careers, the panelists shared deeply personal insights. Humaira Jamshed, professor at Habib University, spoke about the challenges and strength of balancing motherhood with her academic career. When she joined Habib University, one of her non-negotiable conditions was the availability of on-campus daycare for her daughters. Knowing her children were nearby was empowering, but it also came with its own set of challenges—like teaching while her daughter was just four months old. For her, the ability to integrate her roles as a mother and a scholar has been a source of strength, even as it demanded constant juggling. Muneera Batool, professor at Habib University, shared her experience of teaching theatre, a field she finds deeply empowering yet often undervalued. She admitted that her knee-jerk reaction is to tell people she teaches digital media and design, as theatre is not always taken seriously. However, she emphasized how transformative theatre has been—both for her students, who find empowerment in expressing themselves, and for herself, as it has shaped who she is today. Abira Ashfaq, lecturer at IBA, human rights activist and a legal educator, reflected on the power of the title "Professor." She explained how the term carries respect, authority, and an association with knowledge—qualities often reserved for men in academia. While she embraces being called an activist, a label she finds empowering, she noted that it is sometimes used derogatorily to sideline her from scholarly spaces. This duality, she argued, highlights the gendered biases that still permeate academic institutions. Following this, Tajreen Midhat, lecturer at Habib University, brought attention to a sociological study by Joan Miller, which reveals how society often associates men with the title of "professor" and women with "teacher." Even when women hold the same qualifications, students tend to misattribute a higher level of education to male instructors. This bias, she noted, underscores the systemic challenges women face in being recognized as equals in academia. Zahra Sabri spoke about the utmost respect and humility she holds for her teachers, emphasizing the importance of respecting their craft and viewing them as artists. Growing up, she didn't focus much on gender, but as she progressed in her career, she became increasingly aware of it. Many of the top figures in her field were men, and while she approached learning from them in a gender-neutral way, she noted that she rarely encountered women who were at the top of her field. It wasn't until she went abroad for higher studies that she finally had the opportunity to be mentored by women who were leaders in their disciplines. This experience was transformative. For the first time, she realized the profound difference of being mentored by someone she could empathize with at every level—someone she could imagine mirroring and becoming like. With male mentors, she explained, many dynamics were different because she couldn't envision herself mirroring them in the same way, highlighting the formality that often existed even in the ustaadi-shagirdi (teacher-disciple) relationship, a formality that male students don't necessarily have to navigate in the same way with male instructors. She went on to reflect on the deeper frustrations she observed among women who were at the top of their professions. She recalled speaking to many accomplished women who, despite their success, carried a sense of bitterness and frustration. At first, she wondered why—after all, they had achieved so much. But she soon realized that their struggles were rooted in the systemic challenges they had faced along the way. She contrasted this with her observations of men in academia. Bright men, she noted, often carry themselves with an almost godlike confidence, feeling untouchable and free to take up as much space as they want, speaking for as long as they please. They often hold attitudes that reinforce male dominance—such as the assumption that all great theorists and philosophers are men. For men, projecting calm authority comes more easily, while women often have to fight for the same level of respect. Sabri also spoke about the dynamics of entering academic spaces as a woman. She noticed that women, even those who are highly qualified, often speak less, while men dominate the conversation. She questioned why this happens, realizing that many women have simply given up. Women often 'quietly quit' from traditional arenas of power, choosing to create their own worlds where they can thrive without constant male insecurity and pushback. The toxicity is often too exhausting and it is not just in overt acts like harassment or stalking, but the subtle, pervasive behaviors that wear women down. This includes constant interruptions, dismissiveness, and a lack of empathy. Concerns raised by women are often dismissed in ways they wouldn't be if a man had raised them, with valid issues being painted as mere anxiety. When asked about the challenges they have faced in their careers, the panelists shared candid, sobering reflections. Abira Ashfaq spoke about the limiting ways men often relate to women in professional settings. She explained that men tend to understand women through narrow archetypes, forcing them to adapt in order to communicate or even reprimand male subordinates and colleagues. 'A lot of it also has to be a psychological and psychic reflection of the way in which men are able to understand women, or for that matter, even women [are able to understand women],' she noted, highlighting the internalzied biases that shape our ways of relating to women in professional spaces. Sameena Shahzaman, an experimental physicist and professor at Habib, shared a particularly striking anecdote that underscored the systemic challenges women face in male-dominated fields. She recounted how, throughout her career, she has almost always been surrounded by male colleagues—first in Pakistan and later abroad. To meet the expectations of male-dominated work environments, she often overworked herself, putting in 10 to 12 hours when her male colleagues worked 8. She then shared a powerful story about a professor who joined her research group during her third year. After training in the U.S. and establishing her own research group, this professor returned to Austria and was placed in the same group where she had once been a student. Sameena described how, for the first time, she had meaningful conversations with a female experimental physicist who had even organized a conference to commemorate the achievements of female scientists—a first in their field. During one of their conversations, the professor shared a sobering insight: for every academic position, a woman has to work ten times harder than her male counterparts to prove her credibility. As she rises through the ranks, the pressure only intensifies, requiring even greater effort to achieve the same level of recognition. Sameena emphasized that this disparity exists not just in academia but also in research, where women are scrutinized more heavily than men. 'Now, if this is happening in Europe,' she added, 'you can imagine how it is happening in Pakistan.' She also touched on the subtle forms of harassment that women in positions of power often face. 'We don't really talk about or want to talk about when harassment happens,' she said. 'When you are in a very responsible position, it happens in very subtle ways. If you are not cognizant of the ways people are trying to harass you, you might fall for it and only realize it in retrospect.' The Q&A session brought forward a thought-provoking reflection from Zoya Sameen, an audience member who had also presented her research in an earlier panel. She encouraged the audience to think intersectionally, sharing her personal experiences of solidarity with Black and Brown men, particularly in the context of Palestinian solidarity, which she felt more strongly than with white women. Her comment underscored the importance of considering the category of women alongside other intersecting identities—such as race, caste, and ethnicity—when discussing issues of empowerment and representation. However, the session took an unexpected turn when a man in the audience interrupted the flow of the discussion. After the formal Q&A segment had concluded and one of the panelists was speaking, the man spoke out of turn, without being called on, saying, 'May I say something?' The moderator responded, 'Sorry, we don't have time,' to which he retorted, 'You are very much biased.' This outburst was striking, not only because it demonstrated a blatant disregard for the moderator's authority but also because it occurred immediately after an entire panel discussion about men speaking over women and taking up disproportionate space in academic and professional settings. The man's insistence on being heard, even after being told there was no time, highlighted the very entitlement the panel had been critiquing. The situation escalated when he began shouting, threatening to report the moderator to higher authorities—a statement that not only demeaned her authority but also revealed a disturbing level of entitlement. He then stormed out of the room. This incident was a real-time example of the challenges women face in maintaining authority and control in spaces where male entitlement often goes unchecked. Attending this panel at my alma mater, was incredibly meaningful. As a young woman who has recently entered professional life, I found myself resonating deeply with so much of what was discussed. Reflecting on my own journey, I realize how much of my education took place in classrooms where most of my teachers were men, even though the majority of my cohort—especially in the humanities—were women. This imbalance is something I have grown accustomed to, but it also means I often lacked female role models to look up to. As an aspiring teacher, writer, and academic, being in this space was undeniably empowering. It was more than just a conference room; I felt held by a trans-generational feminist consciousness. This Women's Day I am imagining the ways I will recreate spaces and communities like this one; in celebration, in gratitude, and in endless devotion.
