The undervalued: From the suburbs of Pakistan

She wiped the sweat off of her face as she started to assemble the breakfast she had just cooked in the scorching heat of May for her three kids. The house was East open and it seemed like you were inside a hot oven during summers. She had just managed to finish preparing breakfast at 6.50 a.m. when the last flicker from her gas stove died down. Gas load- shedding, another dilemma in a Pakistani's life along with the age- old electricity load-shedding.

She filled three, purple- colored plastic glasses with chilled water from the water dispenser. Purple, the favorite color of her middle daughter, she acknowledged fondly. Picking the tray up, beads of sweat sparkling on her forrehead and upper lip, she moved towards the room where the kids slept. She shared her room with her kids. There were four people living in one room (technically five, with her husband working abroad) with a load of furniture- her bed, the kids' bunk bed, shelves, cupboards, a small dresser and the likes.

The room was still cool, she thought, as she entered and put the tray down. She had turned the air conditioner off a few hours before she woke up. Your best bet to avoid a huge electricity bill was to do just that- 4 hours of AC at night was sufficient enough to do the trick. The kids woke up one by one getting instructions from her to wash up nicely. With groggy eyes, they picked their plates up and started nibbling on their breakfast. She quickly quickly got up to pack her breakfast for work.

She then picked up the school uniforms of her kids and they put them on. It was now time to apply sunblock. She had made it a habit to apply sunblock on them before they left for school. After they had changed, she quickly went to the bathroom to change for work, as they would all leave together. She would first drop them off to school and then go to her own workplace.

It was a tiring ordeal, those school mornings. But she had to go through them all alone, by herself, every, single day.

She suddenly remembered those mornings where her daughter would vomit out breakfast every other day. What a deal it was to change her uniform, wiper her up, give her something else to eat so that she could be fresh at school. She shuddered. Thank goodness the kids were a bit older. Her life after marriage had been a total roller coaster. Having three kids back to back, little support from the husband who was always at work. He did work hard to support them and she couldn't blame him. But it had been hard on her nerves and her body. She lived with her extended family and due to that, she had developed anxiety and depression. She went to therapy every weekend to cope up with it. Oh how complicated life seemed for her. She wanted to join her husband abroad as soon as possible but there were financial obstacles in her way that prevented her from doing it.

Juggling two jobs side by side, with minimal help, she used to do it all alone. Organizing play and study times for the kids, managing their routines, ensuring that they got their meals and snacks on time. It was one of her super- human qualities that she made sure her kids got healthy and nutritionally complete meals and snacks. She was a rock. Nobody was quite like her amongst the people she knew. But she was never valued by her in-laws. One little mistake or something that she did which went against their beliefs, they taunted her and made her feel low.

A woman of many strengths and qualities, under-valued because she refused to let anyone control her. But who was at loss? She, herself. Her mental health compromised because of the attitude of the people she was living with, leading her to undergo stress, anxiety and a mild form of depression.

A common story of a middle- class women living in a typical Pakistani suburb.