Finally, a spouse of a Norwegian politician steps out into the public eye with something other than confessions about stock speculation! Nadia Ansar is married to Liberal politician Abid Raja, who in 2021 published the book “My fault”. In “My shame – a story of expectations and detachment” she takes a clear view of patriarchal structures and social control in the Norwegian-Pakistani environment. She talks openly about the family friend who came to visit and kissed and scratched her when she was a child. These are important experiences that come at the same time as several media reports that sexual abuse is a problem in minority communities. “My shame” still lacks the punch that biographies can have, because it is a little too true to the conventions of celebrity biographies. DEBUT: Nadia Ansar (43) is a psychologist, specialist in emotion-focused therapy and specialist in clinical family psychology. “My shame” is her first book. Photo: Lars Petter Pettersen Escaped Cousin Any young girl, regardless of whether she belongs to a minority or not, will be able to be inspired by Nadia Ansar’s journey from being a cowed and frightened child in an authoritarian and male chauvinist culture, to becoming one of the country’s first psychologists with a Norwegian-Pakistani background. Like others in this generation who can write and speak, she takes us inside an Oslo in the 1990s and 2000s, where she had to fight to marry the person she wanted, and avoid ending up as a cousin’s wife in Pakistan. Undercover Abid Raja’s story made an impression on the entire nation. The fact that he spoke so openly about his own upbringing in a home, where the use of violence was the gang’s upbringing method, helped to also put these problems in immigrant communities on the agenda. Nadia Ansar has the same openness, and should probably take much of the credit for the fact that Raja chose to tell his story. She also adds, like her sister-in-law Abida Raja’s “Moment of Freedom”, an important female perspective. The rituals at a Muslim funeral show that this religion also has a way to go with equality: This is feminism in Norwegian-Pakistani. In some areas, she seems more liberated than many of her ethnic Norwegian sisters. It is, for example, completely out of the question for her to take her husband’s surname. The message is clear enough. There are no limits to what young Norwegian girls, regardless of cultural background, can become when they grow up. There are alternatives to the so-called ALI professions (lawyer, doctor, engineer), which have traditionally been the first choice among Norwegian-Pakistani young people who have completed higher education. But the battle for liberation is by no means won. Nadia Ansar says that she has plenty of friends who have chosen to live a life as well-covered wives of distant relatives in Pakistan. Hear Abid Raja tell about the people who have meant the most to him in the news podcast “Abid and the good helpers”: Straitjacket Anyone who reads these life accounts from second-generation Pakistani immigrants from recent years is left with a rather multifaceted picture. Nadia Ansar also adds new pieces to this peculiar puzzle. She has a twinkle in her eye and a sense of humor. The book still feels too long. This is perhaps as much due to the fact that it is dictated to such a large extent by the genre conventions of the celebrity biography. These books are simply too similar to each other, whether they are written by Elton John, Nadia Ansar or Gunhild Stordalen. As in the fairy tales, the hero or heroine has to go through a certain degree of hardship before she comes out unscathed and probably also with some new insights on the other side. This one perspective of the writer is overriding. In control The problem with autobiography (there are exceptions!) is that we only get this one perspective, which in turn triggers an acute need for answers from the others involved who have to find themselves playing the role of supporting characters. Is it the parents’ turn next year? And will they then correct the daughter’s presentation? Was she really a spoiled brat? Nadia Ansar’s claim in the afterword that “after all, it was her who would have the hardest time” to write, is a truth with modifications. The person who writes has the perspective – and thus the control. The novel genre has other possibilities here. In “They call me the wolf” by Zeshan Shakar, the father and the son are equally important figures in the story. The message there was: My father has a language. His way of seeing the world matters. Nadia Ansar is indirectly on the same track when she ends by saying that she knows deep down that her parents love her and are proud of her. “They just don’t have the language to say it.” In glimpses, however, Ansar shows how the mother shows care in her own way when she comes to help her daughter, who has had screaming twins: This act of care also speaks its own language. God knows if it helps. news reviewer: Illustration: Cappelen Damm Title: “My shame” Author: Nadia Ansar Category: Biography Publisher: Cappelen Damm Number of pages: 256 Published: 2023 ISBN/EAN: 9788202773519 Hi! I read and review literature in news. Please also read my review of “Kairos” by Jenny Erpenbeck, “Details” by Ia Genberg, or Franz Kafka’s “The Process” translated by Jon Fosse. Change log 13.09.23 at 15.35: The conclusion in this review was updated with a concluding sentence.
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