All posts by Pippa

Leicester: a city of diversity

Shivalaya temple, Belgrave Road, Leicester © Pippa Virdee, 2018

There has been a lot of interest in Leicester over the weekend, following the disturbances around Green Lane Road and Belgrave. I noticed on my Twitter feed that it was picked up by journalists, activists and academic across the globe and especially from those in India. They are of course keenly watching this because of the involvement of what seems to be groups aligned to the RSS and the ruling party in India, the BJP.

I have worked in the city for most of my professional life, I have family living in the area, and I have written about multicultural Leicester as well. There has been a lot of information and misinformation being circulated around via social media, this is inevitable given the way these platforms work. I know Green Lane Road well and the ways in which it has evolved since the 1980s, when I first went there. I will perhaps write about this another time, but I wanted to share some basic facts about multicultural Leicester, and provide a list of some academic work that has been done on the city.

The demographics of Leicester have changed and evolved considerably over the decades. Migration to Leicester was interestingly later than some of the surrounding cities in England. In 1972 the Leicester Mercury headlines expressed fear and concern about the influx of East African Asians into the city following their expulsion by Idi Amin in Uganda. Yet in 2001 when the Cantle Report on Community Cohesion was published, the local press in Leicester was considered ‘very responsible’ and ‘seen to be helping to promote cohesion throughout the community.’ Indeed, only very recently several events and exhibitions have been documenting and commemorating the 50 years since the Ugandan Asians arrived in Leicester.

 Area by Birth195119611971198119912001
India5691,82711,51018,23520,84124,677
Pakistan491097751,3051,1551,854
Bangladesh6851,051
East Africa181,6306,83518,62217,16818,843
Total6363,56619,80538,16239,16446,425
South Asian Migration into Leicester, 1951-2001 according to place of birth (Source: Bonney, 2003 and National Census)

However, as a city, Leicester is today one of the most diverse areas in the UK and perhaps even in Europe. The data from the 2021 census is not available yet, it is hoped more analysis and data will be released later this year. According to the 2011 census, the majority ethnic group is still white at 50.5%. However, the next largest group is of Indian origin – 93,335 (28.3%). The Pakistani population is still quite small at 8,067 (2.5%). However, overall there are more than 60,000 Muslims of different nationalities and ethnicities in Leicester, compared to 50,000 Hindus; the Sikh community is sizeable but small in comparison.

Religion20012011
Christian125,187106,872
Buddhist6381,224
Hindu41,24850,087
Jewish417295
Muslim30,88561,440
Sikh11,79614,457
Other religion1,1791,839
No religion48,78975,280
Religion not stated19,78218,345
Total279,921329,839
Religion in the 2001 and 2011 censuses in Leicester.

RankLanguageUsual residents aged 3+Proportion
1English228,29572.47%
2Gujarati36,34711.54%
3Punjabi7,5602.40%
4Polish6,1921.97%
5Urdu3,3761.07%
The top-5 languages spoken in Leicester according to the 2011 census.

Below are references for anyone interested in knowing more about migration to the UK and specifically Leicester.

  • Anwar, M., Between Two Cultures (London: Commission for Racial Equality, 1981)
  • Ballard, Roger (ed), Desh Pardesh The South Asian Presence in Britain (London: Hurst, 1994)
  • Bhachu, Parminder. Twice migrants: east African Sikh settlers in Britain. Vol. 31100. Tavistock Publications, 1985.
  • Bishop, Sue Zeleny. “Inner-city possibilities: using place and space to facilitate inter-ethnic dating and romance in 1960s–1980s Leicester.” Urban History (2021): 1-16.
  • Bonney, Richard, ‘Understanding and Celebrating Religious Diversity in Britain: A Case Study of Leicester since 1970 making comparison with Flushing, Queens County, New York City’, Encounters, 9, 2, 2003, pp 123-151
  • Bonney, Richard, and William Le Goff. “Leicester’s cultural diversity in the context of the British debate on multiculturalism.” International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 6, no. 6 (2007): 45-58.
  • Clayton, John. “Living the multicultural city: acceptance, belonging and young identities in the city of Leicester, England.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 35, no. 9 (2012): 1673-1693.
  • Gunn, Simon, and Colin Hyde. “Post-industrial place, multicultural space: the transformation of Leicester, c. 1970–1990.” International Journal of Regional and Local History 8, no. 2 (2013): 94-111.
  • Hassen, Inès, and Massimo Giovanardi. “The difference of ‘being diverse’: City branding and multiculturalism in the ‘Leicester Model’.” Cities 80 (2018): 45-52.
  • Herbert, Joanna, ‘Migration, Memory and Metaphor: Life Stories of South Asian in Leicester’ in Burrell, Kathy and Panayi, Panikos (eds.) Histories and memories: migrants and their history in Britain (London: Tauris Academic, 2006)
  • Herbert, Joanna, Negotiating Boundaries in the City: Migration, Ethnicity, and Gender in Britain (Aldershot, Ashgate, 2008)
  • Hussian, Asaf, Haq, Tim and Law, Bill, Introduction by R. Bonney Integrated Cities. Exploring the Cultural Development of Leicester, Leicester, Society for Inter-Cultural Understanding Leicester (University of Leicester, 2003)
  • Hussian, Asaf, Haq, Tim and Law, Bill, The Intercultural State: Citizenship and National Security (Contact Cultures, 2007)
  • Law and Haq, Belgrave Memories (Leicester: Contact Cultures, 2007)
  • Leicester City Council, The Diversity of Leicester – A Demographic Profile (Leicester City Council, 2008)
  • Mamdani, Mahmood, From Citizen to Refugee: Uganda Asians Come to Britain (London, Pinter Publishers, 1973)
  • Marret, Valerie, Immigrants Settling in the City (Leicester, Leicester University Press, 1989)
  • Martin, John and Singh, Gurharpal, Asian Leicester (Gloucestershire: Sutton, 2002)
  • Panayi, Panikos, ‘The Spicing up of English Provincial Life: The History of Curry in Leicester’ in Kershen, Anne J., Food in the Migrant Experience (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002)
  • Polimeni, Beniamino, and Theophilus Shittu. “Impact of migration on architecture and urban landscape: The case of Leicester.” DISEGNARECON 13, no. 25 (2020): 24-1.
  • Rex, John and Tomlinson, Sally, Colonial Immigrants in a British City: A Class Analysis (Routledge, 1979)
  • Sato, Kiyotaka. “Divisions among Sikh Communities in Britain and the Role of Caste System: A Case Study of Four Gurdwaras in Multi-Ethnic Leicester.” Journal of Punjab studies 19, no. 1 (2012).
  • Singh, Gurharpal, ‘Multiculturalism in Contemporary Britain: Reflections on the ‘Leicester Model’’, International Journal on Multicultural Societies, 5, 1, 2003, pp 40-54
  • Vertovec, Steve, ‘Multiculturalism, multi-Asian, multi-Muslim Leicester: dimensions of social complexity, ethnic organisation and local interface’, Innovations, 7, 3, 1994, pp. 259-76
  • Virdee, Pippa. “From the Belgrave Road to the Golden Mile: the transformation of Asians in Leicester.” (2009).
  • Visram, Rozina, Asians in Britain. 400 Years of History (London: Pluto Press, 2002)
  • Westwood, Sallie, ‘Red Star over Leicester: racism, the politics of identity, and black youth in Britain’ pp101-116 in Werbner, Pnina and Anwar, Muhammad, Black and Ethnic Leaderships in Britain: The Cultural Dimensions of Political Action (Routledge, 1991)
  • Westwood, Sallie, All Day Everyday. Factory and family in the making of women’s lives (London: Pluto, 1984)
  • Williams, John, ‘Leicester Nirvana Fighting For a Better Future’ in Asians Can Play Football. A report from the Asians in Football Forum, (2005)
  • Wilson, Amrit, From Nagpur to Nairobi to Neasden – tracing global Hindutva, Vol 3, Issue 3, 2020 https://www.ihrc.org.uk/from-nagpur-to-nairobi-to-neasden-tracing-global-hindutva/
  • Winstone, Paul, ‘Managing a multi-ethnic and multicultural city in Europe: Leicester’, International Social Science Journal, 147, 1996, pp. 32-41

Made of Clay

Before the Great Gama, there was Rahim Bakhsh Pehlvan – a forgotten sports superstar!

Made of Clay

History, memory and knowledge production

Open The Oral History Review journal and article.

August is the time when anyone who has any interest in the history, politics, and society of South Asia will be talking, tweeting, and sharing about the time of Partition/Independence. Here in the UK, I have noticed how much discussion about Partition has entered the public discourse, whether it is TV, radio, newspapers etc. In this essay, recently published in The Oral History Review, I have attempted to show how the historiography of Partition has developed, especially over the past twenty-five years. It is an attempt to contextualise and understand how this field of Partition Studies has evolved and what role technology, new forms of social media and the South Asian diaspora, have played in taking this field into new directions. I was keen to highlight the disparities, and structural inequalities that have been produced and strengthened in this process, despite appearances to the contrary.

As a side-note and not completely unrelated to the article, access to information/knowledge must not be taken for granted as there are institutional and economic barriers, which prevent a level-playing field. This article is NOT open access because 1) my post-92 university in the UK does not subscribe to the costly Gold Open Access scheme, and 2) the article was not written with the support of any UKRI research grant. It means that my article will remain behind a paywall, unless an institution subscribes to the journal. Again, many institutions are now cutting back to save money (esp. post-92 universities) and so subscriptions to costly academic journals are often subject to scrutiny of disciplinary demands and budgetary considerations. It is likely that this article will only reach a limited number of people compared with any open access article, thus the readership, citations and engagement will remain confined.

If you have institutional access that’s great, if you don’t and you are interested in reading the full article, please feel free to contact me.

Frank Brazil aka Udham Singh (26 December 1899 — 31 July 1940).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuYgICoMer8

Frank Brazil pays tribute to Indian revolutionary Udham Singh who was executed at London’s Pentonville Prison on 31 July 1940. It follows the 21 years of Udham Singh’s life following the Jallianwallah Bagh massacre in 1919, leading up to the assassination of Michael O’Dwyer and his execution in Pentonville Prison shortly after.

Music and lyrics by The Ska Vengers

India travel to Africa
Africa …travel to America
America link the Gaddar Party 
Try and do things far away form home

One day
Travel down to Germany
Italy France and ina Switzerland
1934 I reach England
and get ready for assassination

Judge won’t you hear my plea
Before you open up the court
I don’t care If I spend 99 years in jail
Or you send me to the electric chair

Travel the planet and endure some hardship 
Walk the path to meifumado ready to endure hardship
Pan patroll stroll intro my target
One question before we get started
You know what a one way ticket to the morgue is

Body bags stacked up ina cold storage
Crush my culture and said it was garbage
Rule by the cruel rule of the free market
Ask some cracker grandpa what a cat o nine tail scar is

Judge won’t you hear my plea
Before you open up the court
I don’t care If I spend 99 years in jail
Or you send me to the 'lectric chair

Now we combust
Bredrin stay focused and conscious
Company rule is so unjust
Feel the tension of my ancestors in my muscle fiber and now I'm ready to crush

Shot him with my 6 chamber
Zetland by his side
Stood there looking at him 
While he wallowed down and died
Now I'm on my journey to a Brixton prison cell
Tell the judge and jury that I did my time well

Judge, judge, lordy judge
Send me to the 'lectric chair

Burn burn

Read further:

Anita Anand, The Patient Assassin: A True Tale of Massacre, Revenge and the Raj (Simon & Schuster, 2020).

David Clark. “Recollections of resistance: Udham Singh and the I WA.” Race & Class 17, no. 1 (1975): 75-77.

Louis Fenech, “Contested Nationalisms; Negotiated Terrains: The Way Sikhs Remember Udham Singh ‘Shahid’ (1899–1940)”. Modern Asian Studies. (2002) 36 (4): 827–870. doi:10.1017/s0026749x02004031

Navtej Singh. “Reinterpreting Shaheed Udham Singh.” Economic and Political Weekly (2007): 21-23.

Mittra da Dhaba at the Wagah-Attari border

In 2001, I crossed the Wagah-Attari border for the first time. Since then, I have used this official land crossing between India and Pakistan numerous times, in the process seeing the border undergo multiple changes. It used to be the Grand Trunk Road split in half, with a few meters of “no man’s land” to separate them. I could literally walk from one side to the other, while remaining on the GT Road. Then, the authorities decided to uplift, gentrify, and replace the colonial bungalows. Gone was the quaint and informal space with scattered flower beds and plants and in came the flashy buildings, followed by the airport style security, customs, and immigration; culminating eventually in the hideous and expensive battle for who can hoist the largest flag and keep it flying high!

To be fair, the development of the check post at Wagah-Attari was probably a response to the expectation that relations between the two countries would improve, and with that the foot traffic would increase. The bungalows were not equipped to deal with high volumes of people. Hence, they first established the goods/transit depot on one side of the border, so as to divert the trucks carrying the items of import/export. This separated the trade traffic from the people traffic. Whilst the establishment of a goods depot offered signs of improved trade between the two countries, even this was subject to cordial relations.

With numerous crossings since then, I have seen the border change, not just physically but also its ambience and vibes that the place gives. Indeed, the new buildings and transit buses which take passengers from one side to other have functioned to create further distance between the lines of control. These were not there previously, and the cool formality evokes the illusion of being remote and separate. Borders do not have to be harsh and austere.

These moments and emotions are difficult to capture on camera, but they can be felt when encountering the staff and officials. When I first crossed the border, I had the compact Canon Sure Shot AF-7, which was a popular model in the 1990s and gifted to me. I enjoyed taking photographs, but cameras were not cheap then, and the 35mm film was expensive too, both to buy and to develop, so photos were taken sparingly. When I embarked on my doctoral research, taking my camera was essential for my trips to India and Pakistan, as it was an instrument to visually document my journey. I would normally pack 1-3 rolls of ISO 200 (sometimes also ISO 400) speed film, usually 36 EXP, good for general photographs. But one was never entirely sure until the film was taken back home, handed in for developing, which then produced the joy of physically going through the photographs a week later! Time had passed between undergoing the actual trip and now feeling those photographs in my hands, and the images allowed me to recreate and relive those moments again.

Today everything is instant. In a moment I can be taking a photograph at the border, and then share it with the wider public around the world via social media. The only caveat here is that, generally the phone signals are non-existent within 1-2 kilometres of the border area, so you would probably need to wait until you were able to pick up the phone signal. More importantly, this also disrupted any arrangements one had made to meet people on the other side. If I was crossing the border, I might contact my friends/family beforehand and say, I’m crossing at X time (keeping in mind the 30 minutes times difference between the two countries), so I estimate that I will be out at Y time (usually 60 minutes from one side to the other). But if things didn’t go to plan, there is no way of contacting the person to alert them of the delays. And when you did finally make it to the other side, there were always a small number of people anxiously waiting and looking to see when their friends/family will pass through those doors.

There are many other stories of this rather strange and intriguing no man’s land but to end with a more positive story, I share a picture of a dhaba at Attari, Mittra da dhaba (literal translation – friends’ roadside restaurant) is located close to the entrance to check post, catering to travellers and tourists who come for the daily lowering of the flag ceremony. I have gone there many times, but on one occasion in 2017, I asked the owner to pack some food for me, food which I planned to take across the border and share with my friends in Lahore. He took great care to make it extra special and pack the food tightly, so that it wouldn’t spill. I could see that it also brought him great joy to know that his food would travel to the other side. As we parted, he said come back and tell me if they enjoyed it! 

Alas, these stories are in the past tense, and with Covid the border faced further restrictions and closures. I have no idea if my friend is still there, I hope so. We need more friends in these otherwise hostile spaces.

My Body My Choice/Mera Jism Meri Marzi

Facing the waves at an undisclosed location, (c) Pippa Virdee, 2015.

The Evolution of “My Body, My Choice” By Lily Patterson, Voicesofgenz, Jul 27, 2020

An iconic tagline for feminists and activists across the globe, “My Body, My Choice” has packed a powerful punch in the fight for equality and, more specifically, womxn’s rights. Starting in the 1970s, the phrase was unofficially coined as a mantra belonging to the gender equality movement and was commonly heard at protests in a number of countries. Starting in the late 20th century, “My Body, My Choice” became words of empowerment and retaliation, particularly in the battle for reproductive rights and accessible abortions. In response to the oppression facing womxn and their reproductive power, feminists and protestors continue to use this phrase as a battle cry, an expression of the importance of bodily autonomy. Naturally, this response isn’t well-received by everyone, and is particularly opposed by pro-life supporters and government officials with anti-abortion agendas. As you can imagine, it isn’t exactly a popular mantra with sexists either. Regardless, “My Body, My Choice” continues to be an expression of the rights womxn deserve, and it is still consistently used in the battle for gender equality.

These words of strength have found their way around the world, and international chants for reproductive freedom and equality have rung proud. In a number of countries around the world, this tagline is met with brutal criticism. In recent months, womxn in Pakistan have been organizing marches and taking a stand against the injustices facing them in daily life. The phrase “Mera Jism Meri Marzi” (meaning “My Body, My Choice”) has made its home in the streets of Pakistan as activists demanding equality practically shout it from the rooftops. In Pakistan, this mantra holds true to its original intentions and is utilized as a powerful retaliation to sexist societal ideals and the archaic patriarchy. Other countries, including Zambia, England, Austria, Turkey, and more, have recently followed suit in chanting “My Body My Choice” as a bold statement about reproductive rights, gender equality, and other feminist ideals. The original intention of this tagline is described by Rameeza Ahmed, a journalist who covered the marches happening in Pakistan. “Whether she chooses to follow a certain religion or whether she chooses to walk around proudly without any clothes, it is her right to do as she wants and nobody else has a right to prevent her from exercising her choice,” states Ahmed.[Read complete article: https://www.voicesofgenz.com/post-1/the-evolution-of-my-body-my-choice]

my body. my choice written by Samantha Francesca, October 2017

I’ve never felt so much anger before towards anyone.
Have you ever looked someone in the eye and have them tell you that you should’ve kept the child that was planted in you by a stranger who drugged and ****** you?
Have you wiped the tears of a woman in despair because she was ***** and told she wasn’t allowed to get an abortion?
Have you curled up in a ball, trying to figure out who to tell about your personal experience of ****** assault and ****?
Tell me, person who says abortion is a sin and that it is relative to the holocaust, will my ****** support me?
Will my ****** pay for doctors visits?
Will my ****** pay the medicals bills for giving birth?
Will my ****** pay child support?
**** no and don’t tell me that I should always save the child.
Excuse me if I don’t want to carry my ******’s child inside of me.
My body. My choice.
MY BODY. MY CHOICE.

With abortion heading back to the Supreme Court, is it time to retire the ‘my body, my choice’ slogan? By Elizabeth Lanphier in The Conversation, 4 August 2021.

The slogan “my body, my choice” has been a feature of the reproductive rights movement in the U.S. and around the world since at least the 1960s. It’s now shorthand for concepts like bodily autonomy and self-determination. In the context of reproductive rights, “my body, my choice” asserts freedom from external control – specifically government control – over one’s reproductive choices.

It makes sense that “my body, my choice” gained steam in the years leading up to Roe v. Wade – a time when reproductive rights activists were fighting for the government to stay out of abortion decisions. Roe did just that by determining that abortion is a private choice between a pregnant person and their physician.

As a private matter, the Supreme Court determined that the government cannot interfere with one’s right to an abortion prior to fetal viability. In so doing, Roe established what philosophers call a “negative liberty,” or freedom from something. This freedom from interference was a crucial step toward reproductive rights in the U.S.

But in the decades since Roe, various states have taken steps to whittle away at the constitutionally protected right to abortion. “My body, my choice” frequently appears on signs at protests against abortion restrictions and in social media campaigns like #MyBodyMyChoice. [Read complete piece which discusses the philosophical and ethical debates around access and right to health care: https://theconversation.com/with-abortion-heading-back-to-the-supreme-court-is-it-time-to-retire-the-my-body-my-choice-slogan-163770]

I Come From There by Mahmoud Darwish

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland....

Find out more about Mahmoud Darwish

The Aurat Raj of Sultana’s Dream

Recently I noticed in several social media forums that people have been sharing details of Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain and her short story, Sultana’s Dream (1905). This story was originally published in The Indian Ladies’ Magazine, Madras, 1905, in English and translated by the author into Bengali. The story takes the form of a dream, set in a futuristic feministic world, in which women through education, opportunity and their innovative ability to use technology have been able to flourish. The science and technology featured in the story is not far off the realities of today and shows immense foresight by the imagination of the author.

The story also highlights how unjust it was, and still is, to deny women education and freedoms, which men have. The imagined place is a generous, green, and friendly environment, in which feminist science has created a space for everyone to thrive and reap the benefits. Although the story was published over a hundred years ago, we are still far from this utopian land.

Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain was born circ. 1880 to an orthodox Bengali Muslim upper-class family in the small village of Pairaband (district Rangpur in Bengal Presidency and present-day Bangladesh). Her father insisted that she learn only Arabic and remain in strict purdah. But with the assistance of her siblings, she learned to read and write Bangla and English. In 1896 her older brother Ibrahim Saber sought to arrange her marriage to a widower in his late 30s. Syed Sakhawat Hossain was the district magistrate in the Bihar region of Bengal Presidency and Ibrahim thought Rokeya would do well under Syed’s open-minded attitude, who had received education in both Bengal and London.

“Rokeya and her husband settled in Bhagalpur, Bihar. None of her children lived. Syed, who was convinced that the education of women was the best way to cure the ills of his society, encouraged his willing wife to write, and set aside 10,000 rupees to start a school for Muslim women.”

After 11 years of marriage, Syed passed away in 1909, leaving Rokeya alone. Soon thereafter she opened a school in Bhagalpur. Later, she moved to Calcutta where she re-opened the Sakhawat Memorial Girls’ School on March 16, 1911. The number of students went from 8 in 1911 to 84 in 1915.

[Source: Hossain, Rokeya Sakhawat – Postcolonial Studies (emory.edu)]

The pioneering concept behind Sultana’s Dream has inevitably inspired other writers and artists to take their cue from a world in which women have the power and men are the submissive other. Aurat Raj, a 1979 Pakistani film, which on the surface appears to be inspired by Rokeya’s work, is also a commentary on the military (and masculine) regime that had come into power, under General Zia. Aurat Raj, is a strange and kitsch interpretation, at whose heart is a social message, centred on exposing the oppression of women. But when the roles are reversed, the women behave in a similar fashion too, unlike Hossain’s short story.

Source: Cinema and Society edited by Ali Khan & Ali Nobil Ahmad (OUP, 2016)

The poster for the film Aurat Raj is equally intriguing as the film itself. It “depicts a woman dressed in a tight-fitting suit and long boots with a crown on her head and a whip in hand, all the more intriguing. She has a commanding, imperious expression on her face. To her right another woman in men’s clothes brandishes a gun. A third woman confidently smokes a cigarette. At the feet of the ‘Empress’ a series of men, including Sultan Rahi, are dressed in women’s clothes. Rahi demurely wears a dupatta on his head, his expression one of effeminate alarm. A subversive and experimental drag movie directed by Rangeela, who had appeared in scores of films in side-comic roles usually playing to the front benchers, Aurat Raj is perhaps Pakistan’s only satire to date and it lampoons not only the naked chauvinism that prevails in Pakistani society but also pokes fun at the way that this attitude pervades the industry. The film targets the machismo of Pakistani men and revels in inverting the gender and power roles, making the women literally wear the pants and leaving the men, including Sultan Rahi and Waheed Murad, wearing frilly frocks and helpless expressions.” Ali Khan, “Film Poster: Reflections of Change in the Pakistani Film Industry” in Cinema and Society: Film and Social Change in Pakistan, edited by Ali Khan & Ali Nobil Ahmad (OUP, 2016), P251.

Despite its well-known star cast of Waheed Murad, Rani, Rangeela and Sultan Rahi, the film was a commercial flop. However, it is certainly worth revisiting, if only as a reminder of the subversive message of the film, which dreams of a more equal society.

Read further:

Sound of Lollywood: When men turned into dupatta-covered minions in ‘Aurat Rar’ by Nate Rabe, 15 April 2017. 

Online edition available to read: Sultana’s Dream. (upenn.edu) 

The manless world of Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain – DAWN.COM by Rafia Zakaria, 13 December 2013. 

Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain — a pioneer of women’s education who strove for a feminist utopia (theprint.in) by Taran Deol, 9 December 2020.

Watch the animation of Sultana’s Dream by WOW Festival Pakistan:

WOW POP-UP: Sultana’s Dream – animated featurette
Aurat Raj 1979 | Rani | Waheed Murad | Sultan Rahi | Rangeela | Pakistani Classic Film