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You can read the full article here: http://www.thehindu.com/sci-tech/internet/article2863615.ece

By: Eva Fernández Ortiz – WNN Features

http://womennewsnetwork.net/2011/11/14/deeyah-pride-multiculturalism-norway/

(WNN) Oslo, NORWAY: As Norway’s 32-year-old right-wing extremist Anders Behring Breivik looked out at a Norwegian public courtroom in Oslo, Tuesday, November 14, 2011, he made a formal statement before the court in an attempt to place himself at the head of a “resistance movement” against immigrants and multiculturalism in Norway.

In spite of Breivik’s attempt, Norway’s Court Judge Torkjell Nesheim stopped Breivik from completing his statement. Breivik’s court appearance was the first public one made since his arrest and confession to the killing of 77 people during his July 22, 2011 attack against pro-immigrant advocates inside Norway.

“My goal is that the hearing be carried out with dignity, not least out of consideration for the plaintiffs and survivors,” said Judge Nesheim in an interview with Norway’s daily newspaper, Dagens Naeringsliv, one day before the court date.

Lining up in freezing weather for over four hours in front of Norway’s public courtroom at the Oslo City Court (Tingrett), 300 seats were made available for journalists; members of the press; families of the deceased and injured; as well as the public. Under high security the seats were made available on a first-come-first-serve basis.

Before Breivik’s violent attack against Norway’s multiculturalism only one death and 13 injuries have taken place from politically based attacks in Norway since 1979.

To find out more about the immigrant experience in the country WNN (Women News Network) journalist Eva Fernández Ortiz talks with Norway-born music celebrity Deeyah, producer of the acclaimed album, ‘Listen to the Banned,’ and winner of the 2008 Artventure’s  Freedom to Create Prize through a nomination by Freemuse — the only global organization dedicated to musicians’ and composers’ rights to “freedom of expression.” In 2011 Deeyah launched a searing and ongoing website – Memini (Remembrance) that acts as a memorial to immigrant women worldwide who have died from honour violence.

Identifying herself as a Norwegian who grew up inside Norway but  “currently lives outside the country,” Deeyah comes from a diverse Sunni Muslim background with Punjabi/Pahtun parents — which includes a mother and father who are both first generation  immigrants to Norway. Her family heritage spans generations with a proud cultural background that is a mixture of Persian, Afghan, as well as Pakistani descent.

Deeyah’s album “…is a collection of songs from artists around the world who have faced censorship or had their music banned.”

“These artists and other like them in the different corners of the world must have the right to exist and freely express their feelings and opinions through their art,” says Deeyah. “We can not allow our freedom of expression to be compromised. Music must not be silenced.”

Speaking from her own personal feelings and insights and as a member of an immigrant family living inside Norway, Deeyah also talks about Norway’s nationwide struggle with multiculturalism. . .

___________________________

WNN: You were born and lived for many years in Norway, what is your opinion on the July 2011 violent killings? The killer argued that he was protecting Norway and Western Europe against Muslims and multiculturalism, how big is the presence of the Muslim community in Norway? How do you think multiculturalism influences society?

Deeyah: Extremist violence of whatever background is detrimental to us all. The enormity of the hatred this man carried with him inflicting such violence and carnage on the people of Norway was extremely shocking to us all.  It is nothing short of evil actions, evil intentions with gut horrifying wrenching consequences.

The severity of the shock and pain this man has brought on all the people of Norway could have broken the spirit of Norway and its people by crushing its innocence with such violence but instead what fills my heart with such joy, pride and admiration is the reaction of the Norwegian people and Norwegian leaders being one of love, unity and deep courage.

As our Norwegian Prime Minister Jens Stoltenberg mentioned we will react to this not with fear, hatred,  violence or revenge but instead with more democracy,  more humanity and more openness.  This is the greatness of Norway that I love, admire and support with all my heart.

I agree deeply with what so many have said in Norway that the world that hate cannot drive out hate — only love can do that .  Darkness cannot drive out darkness — only light can do that; and that if one man can unleash this level of violence just watch how much love all of us can give and stand for.

The response of the Norwegian people is tremendously inspiring proving that we will not be broken by this and we will not be provoked to resort to violence but instead we will stand up for human rights,  for freedom of expression,  for equality,  for democracy and peace and all the values that we all hold so dear to our hearts.

My heart is broken for the ones who have lost their nearest and dearest in this tragic event. I whole heartedly support and wish to honour what the youth on Utøya (Norway) were there to celebrate and what they believed in. They believe in a society that is open, accepting and unified in its diversity; a society that believes in the future of a multicultural Norway. I believe the outcome of this brutality will be the exact opposite of what the killer intended.

What is important is to not look away from the fact that many of his beliefs are shared by thousands of people across Europe and that is something worth looking at and openly addressing; not for fear of such violence but for the hope of overcoming these prejudices and hatreds.

His actions do not reduce or excuse the difficult conversations and questions we do face within all our communities,  but rather highlight the real need to openly address the challenges we all face together.

The Muslim community in Norway consists of around 100,000 people. Like most other countries in Europe, Norway is a multicultural society and like others it has experienced its own growing pains and challenges when it comes to fostering a positive, open and accepting multicultural society.

On a state and official level Norway has always had a real commitment to nurturing an inclusive society, the will is definitely there and judging by the response of unity and togetherness from the Norwegian people in this painful time I am very hopeful that Norway might find itself at the forefront of moving this dialogue forward in a positive, fearless and productive direction, setting a very positive example for the rest of Europe as well.

Groups like the EDL (English Defense League), BNP (British National Party) and their equivalents in Europe have been gathering momentum as well as figures like Geert Wilders have been gaining popularity in Europe. I feel the success of such populist voices who are trying to appeal to a sense of lost national identity is a part of creating a divided society rather than an inclusive one.

Also with several prominent mainstream European leaders declaring that multiculturalism has failed and using rhetoric that resonates with a right-wing perspective when discussing multiculturalism I feel is not useful.  Similarly we have seen what I would call the equivalent right wing within Muslim communities in Europe also exercising similar tactics of division, segregation and  fear mongering fanning further fear of each other.  Both sides if you will seem to fear each other in the very same ways fearing their identity being compromised and changed by the presence of the other and the extreme factions within both sides seem to act out their fears of each other in the same violent, divisive and discriminatory ways.

In my view this is contributing to the widening gap between the Muslim communities and white Europeans.

I feel we are not taking the time to really understand each other.  The majority of us on all sides wish and hope for the same as each other which is a safe, enriching and peaceful coexistence.

However this mutual fear, mistrust and suspicion of the other is preventing us from really moving this dialogue forward. It allows us to build walls between people and accept that we should lead segregated and parallel realities. Instead of becoming a more unified open, informed society where we support our common humanity instead of holding on to what the world looked like pre immigration, this is not realistic.  Instead we could encourage dialogue about what it means today to be Norwegian, to be English, to be Dutch, French and re-imagine a new identity that includes all of us.

Moving the conversation away from the right wing, extremists in both communities is needed, those voices should be acknowledged but should not get to be the anchors of the dialogue.

Diversity is a reality now and pretending like Europe can go back to it’s pre-immigration state or for immigrants to expect Europe to become a copy of the countries left behind is not only unrealistic but a bit delusional.  I believe firmly that diversity is strength and not a weakness.

For any real progress to be made in this context the conversation about these issues will need to become less negative and become more honest instead, even if that’s uncomfortable at times.  However there has to be a real will to address this.  We also need to take the dialogue out of the hands of groups and individuals who shut down conversation and take topics off the table instead of allowing it all to be openly addressed.

I believe we need to move away from such reactionary and restrictive representatives.  People have to feel ok about being honest and speaking out about their fears and concerns and questions, there has to be real honesty if we are to get beyond this mutual and revolving cycle of fear and distrust of each other.

WNN: Can you talk about the struggles of being part of an immigrant family in Norway, especially since the July violence in Norway was part of an attempt to attack the progressives in the country who want very much to accept and include all of Norway’s incoming immigrants.

Deeyah: My grandfather was among the first immigrants to come to Norway in the late 60s.

My experience growing up in Norway was generally a very positive one, of course there were challenges but overall I am deeply thankful to have had the opportunity to grow up in a liberal society like Norway where a strong fundamental emphasis is placed on freedom of expression, women’s rights and equality– all values that I hold very dear to my heart and are principles that have formed my outlook on life and also my work.

I was a part of the first Norwegian born generation, children of immigrant parents.  Growing up being from an immigrant family and a part of the non white ethnic minority community,  I was always aware that I was different and at times not accepted or treated as an equal by some white people.

In the 80s and 90s we definitely felt a presence of various white right wing groups– as a teenager I actually used to participate in marches and demonstrations against skinheads, anti-immigrant and white supremacist groups.  Knowing in a very personal way the level of hatred such individuals and groups carried for people of  non white ethnic communities. One of the points that always used to grate on me growing up is how we were referred to in the broader mainstream society, we were referred to as foreigners and I remember always being confused why when I was born in Norway, held a Norwegian passport, spoke Norwegian like any white girl did why were people like us still referred to as foreigners…

Immigration changed the face of Norway over time and with it there have of course been some challenges and difficulties, however what has been essential is Norway’s leaders have consistently made efforts to build initiatives where inclusion and diversity was the prime focus of celebration. How successful one of the initiatives have been is hard to say but what is necessary is a genuine will to do something about the challenges we face.

I believe Norway’s leaders have always had the will and I think are now going to explore even more ways of addressing the issues on an even deeper level.

Obviously things have changed significantly since I was a child, the Muslim community in Norway now is around 100,000 and the country has developed into a far more colorful and multicultural society.

I have experienced discrimination from some white people and also from some Muslims in Norway.

When I was about 11 or 12 years old a grown white racist Norwegian man spat in my face telling that I was a black paki bitch and that I should “f” off back to the country I came from.   At the age of 16 I was spat in the face by a grown sexist Muslim man telling me I was “a whore” for having become too “westernized.”

I know my experience of being exposed to discrimination from this fear mongering minority within both communities that hold deep rooted prejudices is not a unique one, but these are the sort of attitudes that do exist in some small quarters of both sides that we need to be aware of and deal with – it’s also important to be clear that one form of prejudice does not reduce or excuse the other in any way, both need to be addressed honestly, fearlessly and openly.

I am looking to the future with great optimism and hope based on the love, openness and unity the Norwegian people and leadership has shown in its most difficult time.  I feel so much pride, admiration and love for my little country of big-hearted people!

WNN: Sisterhood, the initiative you established in 2007, had the aim of empowering young Muslim women by giving them a platform to express their creativity. Which are the current bounders limiting Muslim women today? How can they be empowered?

Deeyah: I think one of the feelings at the core of the work I do and believe in strongly is to support women and young people to fulfill their potential, for women and young people to dream and aspire to lead a life and walk the path of their own choosing, to be who they are and to be the best they can be, underlying the thought behind Sisterhood as well.

Gender equality and women’s rights are the fundamental challenges Muslim women face today. They are the very same challenges women of other communities face as well in the same context by (other) strict patriarchal societies.

Millions of lives are sacrificed every year and the oppression of women manifests in glaring problems like domestic violence, child marriage, trafficking, FGM, forced marriage, honour based violence and honour killings, infanticide, dowry killings, rape as a weapon of war and humiliation. All this happening in the name of culture and in the name of religion and in the name of tradition, tribalism, local customs and “social morality”.

There is a real need to encourage education for our girls, to empower them and encourage women’s participation in these societies.

Muslim society will prosper, flourish and progress once its women, gain the rights to have an equal voice and place in our families, in our community, country and our world.  Women are the single most important key to progress in our societies.  The biggest barrier to our women having the opportunity to lead a safe, equal and fulfilled life free from violence is the societal rigidity that is rooted in parameters of long standing attitudes and concepts of masculinity, honour and the cultural hierarchy of male supremacy.

What is encouraging is that there are so many wonderful and passionate people men and women out there in different corners of the world working on improving these dire circumstances faced by women every single day.  My wish is to create a global network of such courageous activists, NGOs and passionate individuals to connect with each other and see if there are ways we can help, encourage and support each other in our common and very essential goal of strengthening women’s rights and women’s voices.

WNN: In 2011, you founded Memini, a digital memorial for the victims of honour killings worldwide, what motivated you to do that?

Deeyah: I have worked with this topic for many years and what has always made my heart hurt in addition to the horrors and violence the victims of such crimes face is the intention of the killers to wipe out all signs of any existence of these young women.  Not only are these murders so brutal and not only are the victims subjected to the ultimate betrayal of their family and community but the sheer tragedy of the people closest to them who should have loved them and cared about them and mourned them instead showed their very limited and conditional love and stole their life, their dreams and potential.

I wanted to create an online space where we could mourn them, think of them and acknowledge their life and that they were in fact here, to respect them, honour them and remember them.  I told a dear friend of mine that I wanted to build such a place online and he immediately so kindly and graciously agreed to build it and help me start this space of remembrance.  Since its launch we have received the time and support of volunteers from all around the world who are helping us in writing, researching, documenting and honouring these martyrs of love and courage by remembering them.  I am deeply thankful for everyone’s support, dedication and care.

We of course cannot bring back these young lives but what we can do is defy the intentions of the murderers by honouring, respecting and remembering the ones who have been so brutally taken away.

WNN: Despite being born in Norway, you have always kept a strong identification to your Muslim roots both in your professional and personal background, how important are your origins in someone’s / your life? What made you maintain them despite having grown up in Europe?

Deeyah: I have always felt a strong sense of pride and connection to the heritage and ancestry of my parents.  It was something that was taught and encouraged in our home and also reinforced by the very strong presence and emphasis placed on a deep connection to the culture, music, arts, spiritually and languages in our home.  It was always very important to my parents that I had a real sense of what their ancestry and culture was all about, they also encouraged that I learn about other religions and cultures as well in order to gain a broader perspective but also understanding and respect for others.

I have never viewed my identity from an either or perspective but rather as a fortunate combination of beautiful and essential and common values of love, respect and understanding.  My personal influences are deeply rooted in what I was taught by my parents and what I learned growing up in Norway.

A core spiritual center was always important to me and is not something I feel conflicts with the social values of Europe.  Despite the challenges and difficult times I have always felt fortunate to find myself in a cultural junction where I thoroughly understand and relate to both cultures and perspectives—my multicultural upbringing and identity has gifted me a with a unique and diverse lens through which I view the world and the way I understand it and the way I appreciate it deeply with great deal of humility.

On the instructions of my father who was a music lover I started singing and receiving my music training when I was 7 years old.  The reasoning behind his decision was he felt that in Western societies two professions where I would not be judged or discriminated against based on race, sex, religious or cultural belonging but rather be measured by talent and hard work, this in his opinion was sports and music.

Sports he knew nothing about so he decided I should study music.  I was immersed in extensive music training, rigorous practise schedules and had the honor of studying under some of the greatest masters of North Indian/Pakistani Classical Music, Ustad Bade Fateh Ali Khan (of Pakistan) and Ustad Sultan Khan (of India).  As a child and teenager I rarely had any time to spend with friends, instead of participating in most activities people my own age I followed a very disciplined and strict regiment of music practice, study and very soon performing and recording.

WNN: In 2007 you stopped performing as a singer for producing projects for other artists, why did you chose to focus your career on giving voice to others?

Deeyah: I feel I am of much better use and service supporting others instead now.  I have been singing and performing since I was 7 years old, despite some of the challenges I have faced I am have been fortunate enough to have enjoyed a very fulfilling music career I have had the privilege of collaborating with some of the most fantastic artistic and musical geniuses and legendary figures within the international music industry.

Although I no longer sing or perform I continue composing and producing music projects.  Music is a part of my heart and soul and will be something I will always be involved with on some level but I no longer wish to be on stage or be at the forefront and am much more satisfied in the role of a composer and producer today instead.

I feel it is my duty to what I can to be of some service to my fellow sisters and brothers.  I am fortunate to live in societies where I do have a voice and the right to seek equality and the ability to be useful to my sisters who may not be afforded some of the same freedoms as I am afforded, I feel it is my duty to do what I can with the rights I have been given.  What is the point of these freedoms and rights if I can not use them in the support of others who also need and deserve them?  I feel it is my obligation to do what I can to contribute toward positive change.

Deeyah: From Pop Star to Activist

Over the last year I have been fortunate to have had the opportunity to talk to many different women involved in women's right's work.

Each conversation has helped to open my eyes to the world beyond the stereotypical images and viewpoints often presented in mainstream media.

This is a very strong passion of mine, to find out what is really happening in the lives of women throughout the world. From women in Iran to women in Uganda, each time I am learning something new.

Deeyah

A few months ago I talked with former pop star Deeyah, about her life and her work as an activist.

Deeyah is a critically acclaimed singer and composer from Norway - first hitting the headlines as a child - and is now a prize winning human rights activist.

Deeyah was born in Norway to Muslim immigrant parents of Punjabi and Pashtun descent. Her success was a mixed blessing. The Norwegian media initially heralded Deeyah as an example of their new multi-cultural society. However, many in the Muslim community did not view her success in a positive light. Deeyah became the subject of threats, controversy and abuse.

Abuse

"For the first few years, the abuse was directed at my dad - "How you could you allow her?" Music and entertainment were not considered a respectable profession. "We wouldn't even allow our sons to do this".

I felt I had to leave Norway. I wasn't known outside Norway. But where to go?

I had always remembered a short holiday Mum had taken me on, at age 12. I remembered that there were more people who looked like me. I had felt like I fitted in.

So I had a romantic notion of London. In London, there had been immigrants for a lot longer. Whereas I was really among the first Norwegian generation of immigrants.

In April 1996, when I was eighteen, I left Norway for London.

I was leaving behind a successful career and a family. I went to stay with a distant family friend in London, the only person I knew there.

London

I thought that London would have a 'centre', like the cities in Norway have. I imagined that was Oxford Street. So I went every day to sit in a cafe in Oxford Street, not knowing what to do.

I asked someone how I could find a flat to rent. They suggested Peckham, so I found somewhere there. I didn't know London. I didn't know that Peckham was a high crime area.

I felt really, really lonely, in a tough city with no job or school to meet friends.

I actually went and asked to work for no money, which I did, just to meet friends and have a social life.

Then mum came to visit and we went for a cup of coffee. She saw how I was still in shock and nervous.  She told me to get a grip.  She said, 'You flinch every time there's a brown man behind you'.  It was subconscious.  I had no idea I was doing that.

In 2005 I moved to the States. I felt that was truly the end of my career as a performer and singer. I wanted to bury it.

Metaphorically, I dug a hole in the ground and buried myself. I needed time to breathe. I felt that there was a curse which followed me.

Tired and burnt out

I thought, "You have to want success - and I don't want it. I am tired, burnt out. I hate music. Music is a source of pain and danger". But music was the only thing that had kept me sane.  So I was pissed off.  My one home had gone.  Music was the only thing I'd ever wanted to do.  I had no other options.

I did one last album called Ataraxis with Andy Summers (from the band The Police) and pianist Bob James in 2007. I did it just for my own peace of mind and not for public release, but a Norwegian record company insisted I allow them to give it a small, understated release. I could care less at the time so I gave them the album to release.

Activism

I had always tried to be of service. Not charity balls - not that type of thing.

One on one. Kids would write to me through the music years.  I'd been writing to some for years.  So I stayed in touch.  And helping at women's shelters.  That had been with me since a child.  It was a given that I would always do that.

It was the only other thing where I felt useful and helpful.  So I dedicated more and more of my time to activism.

In 2007, I set up the  Sisterhood for Young Muslim Women Network. An online network.

I started getting emails from young girls who wanted to go into music but weren't allowed to.

So I started to build a platform, to bring together young girls and women - to give advice and provide support and a sense of belonging and community that I wish I'd had.

It is a really nice thing.  I want to extend it beyond music to other creative expression - journalism, art etc.

It can be positive and wonderful.

Women are programmed to compromise.  Our expectations are decided by men in every society. The breaching of codes and lines of behaviour vary, but the enforcers are men - and some women who go along with it.

We compromise. If we break the boundaries we are called immoral, slut, prostitute. And threatened with sexual violence.

For men to say that this is because they are being righteous and pure is entirely the wrong language. To also say that they would get an obscene pleasure out of raping me! These thoughts don't even occur to me - to react with such violence.

Why do they think like that?

The only thing I can say is that it's made me much stronger.

But I think I can be of better service helping others than being at the forefront. Working from a different seat - one with a bit of padding.

I can't over-emphasise how hard it's been.

For some time, in the US, I looked like a bag lady. I didn't eat and sleep. Wouldn't bother dressing up, doing my hair or makeup at all, was just so sick of it all - having been in front of the camera since age seven.

I had neglected the emotional impact. It was wearing me down. I needed friends, people and just some peace.

But I can also say completely from my heart and gut that I have never considered myself a victim. I am very fortunate to have done what I've done and to do what I do.

Freedom to Create Award

Yes that was in 2008. It meant so much to me to receive the Freedom Award- and it felt like a great privilege. It happened at the right time!

I was nominated by the organisation, Freemuse.

I came across Freemuse, during my worst time - from 2004 to 2006. They were understanding and supportive and used to musicians who were getting negative reactions. It was very, very, very meaningful and desperately welcome.

I was very appreciative. And to be learning what other musicians were going through. People everywhere. For all different reasons.

I wanted to support Freemuse, in any way possible.

Listen to the Banned

In 2008, I asked if they'd considered doing an album. I wanted people to hear the music from these people. They said they loved the idea, but they had no resources or means.

I thought, "This I can help with. I can't do the academic organising, the reports, the research. But this is music, my language. I'll do this".

I was ready to reconnect.

This was a huge part in reintroducing me to my first love. I felt, "this is where I belong."

I didn't want to do the music any more. I was getting more satisfaction doing something for someone else.

The result is the CD - Listen to the Banned - which features artists who have suffered censorship and persecution.

Deeyah's latest project is to help raise awareness about Honor Killing. I asked her what motivated her to do this

Honour Killings represent the ultimate in control and oppression of women.

The whole idea is that, because these women have 'transgressed', their existence is perceived to be a stain on the reputation and standing of the men, so the disgrace must be 'rectified.'

Often the intention of perpetrator, or perpetrators, is to wipe out any memory - photos, clothes, attachments. Like they were never here.

On 7th April this year, I launched my new site, Memini, which is a virtual site of remembrance for victims of Honour Killings.

Honour Killing is not really a crime of passion.

It's pre-meditated. And it's not the crime of just one person. It's typically planned by a number of people, and not something that happens in the heat of a moment of passion or insanity between one person unleashing violence against another.

It's very much a symptom of a patriarchal society and it's used as a threat to other women.

In its essence it's about controlling women's behaviour. So long as she doesn't transgress before marriage, then she's pure and not tainted. Or fall in love with someone the family doesn't approve of.

It's about removing the woman's complete free choice in matters of marriage, career/education and even style of dress and friends.

Speaking Out

It's important that everyone speaks out.

That women stand in solidarity with women.

To stay on a safe platform would be a betrayal.

We need to work tirelessly, passionately, day in, day out and be available for what we are asked to do.

These victims are martyrs for love. They must not be wiped away, forgotten.

It's very difficult. But we need to be very, very honest. There must be no compromise on the reality. But humility and respect is needed - not sensationalism.

If you worry about offending the Muslim community by criticising honour killings, then you are complicit in perpetuating it. It's not Islamophobic to protest against honour killings.

I'd rather hurt feelings than have throats slit. Women need to stand in solidarity and break through stereotypes.

If you are respectful and sensitive, that will come across. But don't water down the truth.

Otherwise it appears that I, as a brown Muslim woman, am worth less because you won't hurt the men but brown women get hurt.

We need to show that we hear. That it does matter. That we will support them. That we want to build an inclusive, respectful society.

We don't want the very extreme religious leaders. But one who cares for our own community, based on love, respect, dignity and equality.

~ ~

By:  Shubhi Tandon – Women News Network – WNN

According to the United Nations and The International Campaign Against Honor Killing at least five thousand women and girls worldwide are murdered each year to preserve ‘family honour’. Many of these women are killed for making personal choices that don’t match the limits placed on them by their families and local society.

These killings occur in societies where the control of women’s behaviour is the factor at the forefront of defining the standing of men among their peers.

Personal choices come in conflict with a family’s ‘honour’ when a young woman begins to ask – Who do I want to be my life-partner?; What if I don’t want an arranged marriage?; How do I want to dress in public?; What music do I want listen to?; How can I own my own business?; Can I attend a university of my choice?; When will I be able to sing in public, or go dancing?; Can I ask for a divorce if my husband beats me?; Can I attend school?

These questions can bring danger in a society where women and girls are expected to follow strict guidelines.

Judged heavily for such basic freedoms as personal career choices, education, styles of dress, choice of friends and even the number of children they wish to have, women who have become victims of honor violence are trapped in a never-ending cycle of self-denial.

Launched in April 2011 to give a digital memorial to the victims of honor crimes worldwide, a new website called Memini, which means ‘remembrance’ in Latin, outlines the lives of twenty-five women who have been murdered through honour violence.

Created by award-winning Norwegian filmmaker, composer and celebrity pop singer Deepika Thathaal known as Deeyah by her fans, the Memini site brings an unforgettable look at the haunting faces of honor violence.

Each face on Memini shows a haunting desire to live.

Honour Killings are collective and premeditated murders intended to restore the social position and family honour.

Born in Norway from immigrant parents of Pashtun and Punjabi descent, Deeyah knows well that dangers do exist for women who step outside their society’s ‘cultural norm’.

“Honour Killings represent the ultimate in control and oppression of women”, says Deeyah.

Family members (or friends of the family) are often the ones who carry out the killing in these murders. The violence in honor crimes can be found worldwide.

This severe form of violence against women expressed as honour violence exists today on all continents. Specifically, it can be found within Syria, Egypt, Morocco, India, Turkey, Bangladesh, Jordan, Iraqi Kurdistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Lebanon, Israel and Palestine, as well as inside immigrant communities in United States, Canada, Spain, Italy, Germany, Sweden, Norway and the UK.

“The perpetrators of these honour motivated crimes want all signs of the lives of these young women to be completely wiped out – almost as if these young women never existed in the first place,” explains Deeyah.

Today honour killings are seen across religious communities and are not limited to one group only.

“I reported the incident to the police, but they didn’t take me seriously,” said Turkish born Kurdish immigrant to Sweden, Fadime Sahindal, as she shared to police her first experience reporting personal threats by family members in a formal meeting of the Sweden’s parliament, November 21, 2001.

Less than two months after her speech before the Parliament of Sweden, Sahindal was shot dead at the hand of her father, an illiterate Kurdiah farmer who had moved to Sweden in 1980 as she dared to travel against her fathers wishes to visit the grave of an ‘unapproved’ Swedish boyfriend who had been killed in a car accident.

“He said I was rejected from the family and was not allowed to come back to Uppsala (where my boyfriend was buried). If I did I would never leave the city alive,” said Sahindal in her report to the police.

While women are not the only ones who suffer from this crime, women and girls make up the majority of victims.

“Many factors such as gender, age, place of residence, education, and tribal and kinship relations, affect how honor is perceived and the place it has in people’s lives”, says, “The Dynamics of Honor Killings in Turkey” (Feb 2007) by the UNDP – Population Association at the United Nations Development Programme and the UNFPA – United Nations Population Fund.

Women can become targets of honour based violence for exercising their right to choose their own life partner, career or even how they dress.

In Turkey, attitudes about honour violence vary widely according to one’s education and background. “Those who openly support honor killings state that a person who committed an immoral act would deserve to die and that the people who are forced to kill them would have no other choice”, continues the United Nations report.

Those who work in the field to fight against honour crimes are constantly faced with the same basic question over and over again: “But what can be done to stop honour killings?”

Documenting twenty-five immigrant women and girls from diverse religious and ethnic backgrounds who died from honour killings around the world, the Memini site exists as an ongoing project. Many cases include immigrant women.

One case includes the murder of 26 year-old mother of two, Surjit Athwal, who travelled in 1998 from her home in the UK to a family wedding in India.

The very core of the concept is basic, it is the control of women and their behaviour, if they transgress they will be punished, honour killings being the ultimate price a young woman pays and it is the ultimate betrayal by a family of their own child.

What began as a missing-persons inquiry in 1998 with interviews made in the Indian village where Athwal was last seen ended as a landmark 2007 UK court case. The case sentenced two different people, Athwal’s mother-in-law and her husband, for personal involvement with her murder.

Encouragement for women and girls to expose threats and seek immediate and long-standing protection is of prime importance.

Anthwal, who was married at the age of 16, was planning to leave her husband and had filed for divorce before she left on her wedding trip. She never did return. Her body was never found.

“An Honour Killing is a planned, group decision. It’s a pre-meditated, collective decision. Basically, it’s an ‘organised crime’”, says Deeyah.

Another case, 16 year old Heshu Yones was murdered by her father for having a relationship with a classmate. Similarly, 25 year old Sandeela Kanwal, was also a victim of murder at the hands of her father for asking for a divorce to end an unhappy marriage.

Even though legislation in Lebanon became more stringent with honor-based crimes in 1999, a loop-hole exists in Article 252 of the penal code that allows sentences against honor crimes to be commuted if the violence stems from anger against the victim because the victim has been involved in an ‘unjust and dangerous act’, particularly an act that involves what is perceived as ‘adultery’.

The perpetrator of this crime’s goal is to erase the lives of their victims. To erase their presence. To completely remove the “stain” of their existence from this earth.

In 1989 Jordanian journalist and author of the book, “Murder in the Name of Honour”, Rana Husseini, collected 159,000 signatures to help change the laws covering honor violence in Jordan, but set-backs and recent changes in Jordan’s government has placed honor crimes law reform on hold.

In the meantime, Memini hopes to keep the memory and dignity of victims alive through an expanding online memorial archive.

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5000 lives are lost every year in the name of family “honour”. A new site, Memini – which means remberance, is archiving the faces and lives of women who are gone. Crimes of honour today can go uncounted. They can also go without any arrest or justice to the alleged killer(s). Memini has a goal to keep the faces and lives of the women who have died from honor violence living on in our memory. This 2:11 min March 2011 video is a Memini production / Music by: Amal Murkus.
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The Challenges of a Muslim Singer-Songwriter

source: A Safe world for women

After experiencing a similar negative reaction in the UK, Deeyah eventually moved to the USA, where she works today as a music producer, composer, filmmaker and human rights activist and is well known for her outspoken support of women's rights, freedom of expression and peace. While Deeyah no longer performs herself due to threats and dangerous pressure on her, she now produces projects that give a voice to others.

Through the organisation, Freemuse, a non-profit that supports freedom of expression for music artists, Deeyah began connecting with other musicians all over the world who had been through similar experiences.

Deeyah and Freemuse's program manager, Ole Reitov, co-produced the CD,'Listen to the Banned', which features artists who have suffered persecution, censorship and sometimes even imprisonment for their artistic expression.

The CD has been very well received by European Broadcasters. Special radio programmes were presented in Switzerland, Czech Republic, Norway, Spain, Germany, Holland, Sweden and Denmark, and half a year after its initial release ‘Listen to the banned’ was still a favourite amongst European world music DJs and highlighted month after month on the Top 20 of the World Music Charts Europe.

In 2010, Deeyah created FUUSE, a social purpose company that acts as an umbrella organisation for her music, film and human rights awareness projects. All are rooted in her dedication to human rights and cross-cultural awareness and dialogue through artistic articulation.

Deeyah talked to Chris Crowstaff about how her music and activism have come together, as a result of her own experiences:

INTERVIEW

Can you talk a bit about your family? 

I'm from a Muslim family. My mother is strong, positive, loving and compassionate. My family are very liberal.

My dad went to Norway from Pakistan.

When my mother arrived in Norway, my father encouraged her to get a job, not for money but for her self worth and dignity.  My younger brother and I were always treated equally.

Is that one reason your father left Pakistan, for a more liberal life-style?

Yes, initially he was going to go to the UK or Denmark. But my grandfather told him about Norway.

What was it like for them in Norway?

In Norway, at that time, there were not many dark-skinned people from ethnic backgrounds - that was quite rare. There was a lot of victimisation of non-whites.

Scandinavia is often thought of as very liberal, open-minded and respectable. But the far right has some constituencies of neo-nazis and racist elements within society there.

My dad's highly educated friends had a hard time finding a job.

I was born in Norway, so I'm Norwegian and I was treated better than my parents had been, especially because I spoke Norwegian like a white Norwegian would.

Did your parents influence your activism?

Activism has always been there with me. If someone was being bullied, I stuck up for them. It's impossible not to do something.

My parents were certainly a huge influence. My father took me to anti-racist protests and marches.

My mother worked with women, children and youth. She was a teacher, but she went above and beyond. I was very aware of this.

She taught at a school where there were a lot of Muslim children. Many couldn't participate in school trips. So my mother set up separate excursions for them so they could experience at least some sense of inclusion.

And she helped at women's shelters.

When did music start to become a big part of your life?

When I was seven years old, my dad encouraged me to develop my musical ability.

Dad told me from a young age, that - for a person - there are really only two professions where you are judged on your skill and not on your race or sex - music and sport.

He said that it would take a long time, but in both music and sport, if you are really good and work hard, you eventually just be judged on your skill.

Whereas, if you are a Pakistani lawyer for example, however good you are, you might be turned away.

He didn't know anything about sport so that left me with only one choice - music!

So I was taught singing. My father chose it as my profession from age seven!

I hated the practice. My dad was quite a strict man, although he was progressive and liberal. I still remember he got all my precious toys, put them in a black bag and into the chute which led to the rubbish. He said, 'Say bye bye' and threw the bag of toys away. I hoped he'd get it back before I went to bed. But he didn't bring it back.

He gave me a keyboard instead. The intention was nice. But it was a terrible shock for me.

I would have to practice and study music when other children were out playing. So I resented music for a while in the beginning. I resented my father keeping me in. But he was unwavering!

When did you start to enjoy music?

It turned around for me quite quickly. Really, when I started performing and seeing what it did to other people.

And right then I fell in love with music and became obsessed. I did traditional Indian and Pakistani classical music.

And also there was a sense of escape in music - keeping me away from other struggles. Protecting me.

In Norway, I was always different. I was told to "go back where you came from". I didn't feel accepted. I didn't look like the white Norwegians. I was called a foreigner. It was "we and us" - those were my parents' terms. But I didn't belong to either fully.

I was constantly reminded that I was different. Grown white men would spit in my face.

Music became home. I found acceptance in music. Music didn't discriminate. Music was home.

How old were you when you started to hit the headlines?

I was successful at quite an early age.

I started to get media attention when I was 10 and 11 - a lot of media attention! National newspapers started to use me as an example of Norway's 'new multicultural society'.

Before that, foreigners had been portrayed in a negative light. I felt excited and proud. Suddenly, Pakistani and Muslim stood for positive things!

I was happy that I was making my family's community proud - that they were getting positive attention!

But I started to realise that also the complete opposite was happening.

When you started to get abuse as a musician, who was that from?

Many from my own community were pissed off.

I had started hitting the headlines before my teens, so it was nothing to do with my clothes etc. I was wearing traditional Pakistani clothes at the beginning.

By the time I was 15 or 16, I was experiencing abuse and harassment from the Muslim community. Again, people spat in my face. But my own community this time.

I thought, "What have I done? I would never intentionally hurt anyone. I know how easy it would be to hurt people. I don't do that".

For the first few years, the abuse was directed at my dad - "How you could you allow her?" Music and entertainment were not considered a respectable profession. "We wouldn't even allow our sons to do this".

Was your dad surprised?

Yes, Dad was surprised - surprised by the severity - even within a religiously moderate, liberated, extended family. But he remained defiant. He answered that, "It's my business, my daughter, my responsibility".

My dad thought of music as a beautiful, pure, positive, art form - not entertainment. Music pays a tremendous part in our history, tradition, identity.

But they were insulting my mother who is a Pasthun, calling her a prostitute.

So I had a strong career, but also opposition.

So your mum and dad were always supportive of your career?

I always had dad and mum's support. But it got scary quickly. I had to have a private phone number. I felt isolated.

People said I'd chosen this horrible, immoral lifestyle.

I was exposed to racism from the white communities too. Some Norwegians started to complain about the 'Paki'. But that almost didn't bother me as much.

I felt betrayed and hurt by my "own." I felt they should be proud of me - be on my side. It was really confusing and really hurtful. It made no sense.

Did you have any other support?

Many within the Pakistani and broader Muslim community did support me, it was not all just negative.

For example, I went into a small shop and there was a girl behind the counter wearing a Hijab. I expected to get more abuse.

But she said to me, "I want to say thank you. Someone has to put their neck out to do singing, dancing, acting. I am sorry for you. You are like the 'first child'. They are much stricter with you".

She brought tears to my eyes.

But I didn't really want to be the first child. If I'd known, I probably wouldn't have done it. It was too hard on my parents.

And I thought, 'Now I have a choice. Why do I do this?'.

Was the abuse mostly from the older people or was it the younger generations too? Was it from women as much as men?

Actually, it was mostly the older generation and younger men.

Young kids and the majority of young women were mostly supportive. In fact, young women and older women and very liberal men and gay men were mostly supportive.

But I couldn't go out without an incident.

I couldn't get taxis or buses.

I'd be lectured or threatened in the street: "You'll be f-cked till you bleed - you deserve it."

This was mostly from the Pakistanis. There were other pockets of Muslim communities, for example Turkish, where both women and men were more supportive.

But friends were taking a risk if they went out with me. And I couldn't afford body guards. So I didn't have a normal, safe life.

When did you decide to leave Norway?

I felt I had to leave Norway. I wasn't known outside Norway. But where to go?

I had always remembered a short holiday Mum had taken me on, at age 12. I remembered that there were more people who looked like me. I had felt like I fitted in.

So I had a romantic notion of London. In London, there had been immigrants for a lot longer. Whereas I was really among the first Norwegian generation of immigrants.

In April 1996, when I was eighteen, I left Norway for London.

I was leaving behind a successful career and a family. I went to stay with a distant family friend in London, the only person I knew there.

I thought that London would have a 'centre', like the cities in Norway have. I imagined that was Oxford Street. So I went every day to sit in a cafe in Oxford Street, not knowing what to do.

I asked someone how I could find a flat to rent. They suggested Peckham, so I found somewhere there. I didn't know London. I didn't know that Peckham was a high crime area.

I felt really, really lonely, in a tough city with no job or school to meet friends.

I actually went and asked to work for no money, which I did, just to meet friends and have a social life.

Then mum came to visit and we went for a cup of coffee. She saw how I was still in shock and nervous.  She told me to get a grip.  She said, 'You flinch every time there's a brown man behind you'.  It was subconscious.  I had no idea I was doing that.

When did music appear again in your life?

My new friends started asking me why I wasn't going into music again.  I asked them, "Would the same thing happen here in London?".

And they all said, "No, don't be stupid. England has progressed further".

I said, "I want to believe you. But how come there's no Muslim women in the pop culture here?".

"There's no-one appeared who's good enough. It could be you".

But there were no really useful answers. And I couldn't help wondering why there was no competition. It nagged me.

I wanted to believe them and so I continued with my music.

By 2003/4, I started to get attention from the UK media and the national press.

And I got exactly the same reaction as before!

This wasn't acceptable for a Muslim. The lectures and threats started. And I was getting phone calls from Norway.

My brother was by now a successful, famous public figure - an actor - and I didn't want to bring trouble to him.

I was filled with horror and sadness. I thought, "I don't want to do this any more".

I felt sad, angry, frustrated. I was not doing anything politically outrageous.

I was getting a positive reaction from Asian women and white women. But I was fed up. I hit a crisis.

By 2006, I thought, "I'm going to do one last song and video". I recorded my song,  "What Will it Be?".

I did it out of anger, sadness and frustration. It was a 'Thank you and good night'.

Is that when you moved to the United States?

In 2005 I moved to the States. I felt that was truly the end of my career as a performer and singer. I wanted to bury it.

Metaphorically, I dug a hole in the ground and buried myself. I needed time to breathe. I felt that there was a curse which followed me.

I thought, "You have to want success - and I don't want it. I am tired, burnt out. I hate music. Music is a source of pain and danger". But music was the only thing that had kept me sane.  So I was pissed off.  My one home had gone.  Music was the only thing I'd ever wanted to do.  I had no other options.

I did one last album called Ataraxis with Andy Summers (from the band The Police) and pianist Bob James in 2007. I did it just for my own peace of mind and not for public release, but a Norwegian record company insisted I allow them to give it a small, understated release. I could care less at the time so I gave them the album to release.

What about your activism?

Except activism, yes. Women's issues and youth issues.

I had always tried to be of service. Not charity balls - not that type of thing.

One on one. Kids would write to me through the music years.  I'd been writing to some for years.  So I stayed n touch.  And helping at women's shelters.  That had been with me since a child.  It was a given that I would always do that.

It was the only other thing where I felt useful and helpful.  So I dedicated more and more of my time to activism.

In 2007, I set up the  Sisterhood for Young Muslim Women Network. An online network.

I started getting emails from young girls who wanted to go into music but weren't allowed to.

So I started to build a platform, to bring together young girls and women - to give advice and provide support and a sense of belonging and community that I wish I'd had.

It is a really nice thing.  I want to extend it beyond music to other creative expression - journalism, art etc.

It can be positive and wonderful.

Women are programmed to compromise.  Our expectations are decided by men in every society. The breaching of codes and lines of behaviour vary, but the enforcers are men - and some women who go along with it.

We compromise. If we break the boundaries we are called immoral, slut, prostitute. And threatened with sexual violence.

For men to say that this is because they are being righteous and pure is entirely the wrong language. To also say that they would get an obscene pleasure out of raping me! These thoughts don't even occur to me - to react with such violence.

Why do they think like that?

The only thing I can say is that it's made me much stronger.

But I think I can be of better service helping others than being at the forefront. Working from a different seat - one with a bit of padding.

I can't over-emphasise how hard it's been.

For some time, in the US, I looked like a bag lady. I didn't eat and sleep. Wouldn't bother dressing up, doing my hair or makeup at all, was just so sick of it all - having been in front of the camera since age seven.

I had neglected the emotional impact. It was wearing me down. I needed friends, people and just some peace.

But I can also say completely from my heart and gut that I have never considered myself a victim. I am very fortunate to have done what I've done and to do what I do.

And you won the Freedom to Create Award?

Yes that was in 2008. It meant so much to me to receive the Freedom Award - and it felt like a great privilege. It happened at the right time!

I was nominated by the organisation, Freemuse.

I came across Freemuse, during my worst time - from 2004 to 2006. They were understanding and supportive and used to musicians who were getting negative reactions. It was very, very, very meaningful and desperately welcome.

I was very appreciative. And to be learning what other musicians were going through. People everywhere. For all different reasons.

I wanted to support Freemuse, in any way possible.

In 2008, I asked if they'd considered doing an album. I wanted people to hear the music from these people. They said they loved the idea, but they had no resources or means.

I thought, "This I can help with. I can't do the academic organising, the reports, the research. But this is music, my language. I'll do this".

I was ready to reconnect.

This was a huge part in reintroducing me to my first love. I felt, "this is where I belong."

I didn't want to do the music any more. I was getting more satisfaction doing something for someone else.

The result is the CD - Listen to the Banned - which features artists who have suffered censorship and persecution.