Stepping into the Beijing Conference in 1995 was like stepping into history itself. The atmosphere was electric – thousands of women from across the world had gathered with one shared purpose: to demand change. For the first time, our struggles were acknowledged on a global stage, and we drew strength from each other.
My greatest hope at that time was that this momentum would trickle down to the grassroots level. While policymakers and NGOs played their roles in drafting laws and policies, I wanted to see real change in local communities. I wanted the impact to reach the women who needed it most – the ones outside the corridors of power.
Leaving Beijing, I hoped that the most important shift would be in our collective perspective – how we saw women, how we valued their contributions, and how we fought for their place in society.
Looking back, gender equality has both advanced and stalled. In Pakistan, women’s representation in politics has increased, with 33% of seats in parliament reserved for women. Spaces that once excluded women – such as banking and governance – have started to open up.
But at the grassroots, progress has been slow. The women in parliament often come from privileged backgrounds, leaving behind those who lack access to power and opportunity. Policies exist on paper, but implementation remains weak. The real test of progress is whether it reaches the most marginalised women – the ones whose voices are rarely heard.
In the early years after Beijing, I had the privilege of serving on Pakistan’s first National Commission on the Status of Women (CSW). It was an exciting yet frustrating time. We had a platform, but the path forward was unclear. How would we turn promises into action? How would we make women’s rights a reality in every sphere of life, from education to agriculture? These questions still linger today.
One of the most overlooked issues in gender equality is the experience of older women. In many cultures, they are expected to retreat into the background, their voices fading as they age. While they may be respected within families, they are rarely included in decision-making or leadership.
During disasters – whether floods, earthquakes, or military operations – older women are often left behind. They face enormous struggles with displacement, financial insecurity, and lack of healthcare. Their suffering is invisible because society does not prioritise them.
For me, this is deeply personal. I have witnessed first-hand how older women are abandoned in times of crisis. Their exclusion from economic and social empowerment reflects a larger problem - the persistent view that older women have little to contribute. In reality, they have decades of wisdom and experience that could strengthen movements for change.
Today’s challenges are different from those we faced in 1995. The rise of social media and technology has made it easier for women to access information and organise. Awareness is higher than ever before, and younger women are using digital platforms to amplify their voices.
But inequality remains deeply entrenched. While urban women benefit from these new opportunities, rural women are often left behind. Shelter homes, support services, and legal aid exist – but they are concentrated in cities. The gap between privilege and poverty continues to widen, making it even harder for the most vulnerable women to claim their rights.
Despite the struggles, I remain hopeful. Women like me do not have the luxury of hopelessness – it is not in our DNA. We carve out spaces where none exist, and we keep moving forward. My organisation Khwendo Kor, founded in 1993, continues to push for positive change.
However, I do worry about the future. International funding for gender equality is shrinking. Civil society organisations are under increasing pressure. The urgency for women’s rights is being overshadowed by other global crises. But we cannot afford to lose momentum. We must keep advocating, keep pushing, and keep reminding the world that women’s rights must never be sidelined.
One of the greatest lessons I have learned is the importance of intergenerational collaboration. Younger activists bring fresh perspectives, energy, and new strategies. Older activists carry experience, history, and resilience. Together, we can be a formidable force.
But for this partnership to thrive, both sides must be open. Older activists must remain flexible and willing to adapt. Younger activists must recognise the value of learning from those who have walked this path before. The struggle for women’s rights is not a sprint – it is a relay, and the baton must be passed from one generation to the next.
Change must emerge while ensuring all stakeholders are included in the journey. I’m reminded of an African proverb I love: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, take others with you.”
As we reflect on the journey so far, one thing is clear: women’s rights cannot be treated as a separate agenda. Women must be included in every aspect of life, from politics to economics, from disaster response to social policies. Affirmative action and positive discrimination remain necessary in many countries to level the playing field.
The biggest challenge remains reaching the women who have been left behind. The frameworks exist, but how do we ensure they translate into real change? How do we make sure that the promises made at global conferences truly impact the lives of rural women, older women, and those on the margins of society?
This remains our unfinished work. And for as long as there is injustice, the fight must go on.
From 1993 to 2023, Maryam’s contributions have been widely recognised. She has been honoured with the Sitara-e-Imtiaz, the human rights award from the International Labour Organization, multiple UN recognition awards, the Fatima Jinnah award, and, most recently, the development leadership award in 2023. Maryam remains commited to human rights, environmental conservation, and advocacy for women’s empowerment.
