https://arab.news/z5yqn
- Residents at Bint-e-Fatima Old Age Home mark Eid Al-Adha with shared meals, henna and sacrifice rituals
- In Pakistan elderly parents are traditionally cared for at home and old age homes remain socially uncommon
ISLAMABAD: Eid Al-Adha in Pakistan is built around family: crowded homes, shared meals and generations gathering together for sacrifice and celebration.
But at Bint-e-Fatima Old Age Home on the outskirts of Islamabad, dozens of elderly women are marking the holiday far from their children, siblings and relatives, trying to recreate the warmth of Eid together in a country where parents are traditionally expected to spend old age at home with family.
Old age homes remain relatively uncommon in Pakistan, where the joint family system has historically meant elderly parents are cared for by children and extended relatives. But social workers and researchers say urbanization, migration and financial pressures are slowly reshaping family structures, leaving a growing number of older Pakistanis living alone or in institutional care. Pakistan’s elderly population is also steadily increasing, with more than 16 million people now over the age of 60, according to aging and development studies.
At the Bint-e-Fatima Old Age Home, staff members try to preserve the rituals and rhythms of Eid for residents who say they still deeply feel the absence of family during the holiday.
“It’s totally a home-like environment,” said Bushra Hasan, who runs the facility. “There are more than 25 mothers and we all celebrate Eid together.”
“For Eid Al-Adha, we have especially brought sacrificial animals so that they don’t feel alone,” she added.
The shelter is part of the Bint-e-Fatima Foundation, which operates similar homes in Lahore and Karachi. Founded in 2008 by Farzana Shoaib as a small charitable initiative, the organization now houses around 100 women across Pakistan.
Inside the Islamabad home, residents wear new dresses, apply henna to one another’s hands and help prepare meals much like families do across the country during Eid.
“The way we celebrate Eid here is just like at home,” Hasan said. “On the first day, goats are sacrificed and on the next day, bulls and cows.”
She said the residents gather to cook mutton pulao on the first evening while barbecue meals are prepared on the second day.
“We celebrate all three days of Eid,” she added.
“THEY LEFT ME HERE”
Behind the celebrations, many women carry stories of estrangement, abandonment or years of silence from loved ones.
“I miss my brothers and sisters as my parents have already passed away,” said 65-year-old Asifa Haroon. “I miss how we used to celebrate Eid, doing barbecue, wearing bangles and new clothes. We do a lot here, too. Sister Bushra takes good care of us.”
Haroon said her siblings live in nearby Rawalpindi but her brothers no longer remain in contact with her.
“My sisters do,” she continued. “My brothers said they were helpless and couldn’t keep me with them so they left me here.”
For Khadija Bibi, a 60-year-old divorced former schoolteacher, the distance from family has stretched across years.
“I have only one married daughter and three grandchildren,” she said. “I have no contact with her since I got divorced and my daughter was raised and educated by my in-laws.”
She said her daughter, Nudrat Fatima, lives in Karachi’s Malir Cantonment area and that she still hopes to see her one day.
Asked about the rest of her family, she said her brother, a doctor, usually visits her on Eid.
Others speak quietly about children studying elsewhere or relatives unable, or unwilling, to care for them.
“We have a very good Eid here, but obviously we miss our families,” said 58-year-old Misma Umme-e-Ahmad. “I miss my son a lot. He is studying.”
Hasan said the facility admits women over the age of 50 and employs eight caregivers who provide round-the-clock support.
Among the residents is 75-year-old Kausar Jahan, who once dreamed of becoming a singer before her family stopped her from joining Pakistan Television Corporation, the country’s state broadcaster and, for decades, its only television network.
Sitting among fellow residents during Eid celebrations, she softly sang an old Noor Jehan song before laughing at a childhood memory.
“My most mischievous act used to remove the collar from a goat’s neck and wear it myself,” she recalled with a smile. “My family would joke, ‘Let’s leave the goat and sacrifice her instead.’”
“Everyone would laugh,” she added.