Polarized: the Samiha Khan Story

By: Farzana Karim and Tarun Rahman

Trigger warning: sexual and emotional abuse

From Queens into Manhattan, the 7 Train travels through diaspora neighbourhoods, picking up passengers of all walks of life.

The 7 also has a special place for the Bangladeshi community living in New York City, traveling through the heart of Jackson Heights — the little Bangladesh that exists in the United States. It encapsulates the American Dream, a literal and metaphorical journey from humble beginnings to the glass towers of Manhattan.

However, last November, the prophetic 7 Train became a source of tragedy for the Bangladeshi community.

In the evening of November 2nd 2016, a young, brilliant and beautiful girl took her own life on the tracks of a Manhattan bound 7 Train, as it entered 74th Street, Roosevelt Avenue, Jackson Heights Station. Samiha Khan was reported deceased on arrival to hospital, aged 23 — a life, full of potential, cut short.

The fallout from her passing polarized the Bangladeshi community — pitting generations against one another, bringing into question the integrity of community journalists, the competency of religious leaders, and highlighting the pervasive denial of gender-based violence and mental illness as plights of a conservative South Asian society living in the West.

This is the tragic story of Samiha Khan — a victim of her own community’s denial and its’ failures.

“… and just because you can’t see the pain, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” — Samiha Khan, October 2nd 2016.

To her friends, her neighbours and her acquaintances, Samiha was a brilliant young woman, kind and genuine, yet quiet and shy.

An only child, Samiha was born in 1993 — a short time after her parents had newly immigrated to New York from Bangladesh. Her mother was a homemaker, while her father a taxi driver. Growing up, Samiha was known to always have her nose in a book, with a passion for music, and a gift for cooking. She was strong academically, graduating from Townsend Harris High School with honours, and went on to complete a Bachelor of Liberal Arts in Psychology and English from the City University of New York City College— drawing parallels with her love for a good book.

Samiha’s Instagram display picture (Via Instagram)

Samiha’s kindness is what is remembered most by her friends. They describe her welcoming smile as sincere and genuine — with her eyes big, bright and brown. To her friends, she was known as someone that could be counted on; someone that made everyone feel comfortable. For them, Samiha’s actions on November 2nd were a last desperate cry, and a final escape. To others that didn’t know her as well, she was kind and welcoming — yet quiet, reserved and generally kept to herself. To them, November 2nd came as a tragic shock, and ultimately led to a realization of the extent to which Samiha was battling demons.

The source of Samiha’s pain, driving her to take her own life, was 15 years of sexual abuse — at the hands of her father, from the age of 8.

To those she confided in, she described that her father would touch her in intimate places, and would threaten to kill her if she spoke out. Samiha told her confidants of the emotional abuse she endured as well — of how her father would tell her that she was now broken and damaged, that no man would ever want her, let alone marry her. The sexual and emotional abuse caused her pain beyond words. Her abuser had conditioned her to hate herself for the crimes committed against her.

The torment led Samiha to attempt suicide on numerous occasions, described as cries for help. Samiha found herself powerless. Her own family had failed her — her father was her abuser, and her mother a silent witness. Her deeply conservative Bangladeshi Muslim community made it impossible to seek help for her mental illness and seek justice for the sexual violence beset upon her. The pervasive South Asian denial of the existence of gender-based violence, sexual abuse, and mental illness served only to ostracize Samiha as a victim. Her community denied her peace — driving her to the most tragic of ends.

“i was supposed to go out earlier today but ended up feeling like absolute shit, crying, and ruining my makeup. but i feel a lot better now after crying!” — Samiha Khan, October 2nd 2016.

Within days of her passing, Samiha Khan’s story of abuse became widely known and shared, triggered by the publishing of a blog post by two of her close friends. The article, entitled “Samiha’s Legacy,” unveiled the history of abuse that Samiha had endured and her consequent struggles with mental illness and suicide. Her story hit home for many young women — Bangladeshi, Muslim, or South Asian — prompting them to share their own stories and bring to light the prevalence of sexual abuse and mental illness afflicting their communities.

Thikana article on Samiha’s death (Via Thikana)

Though Samiha’s story created awareness through social media among youth, older generations of the Bangladeshi community in New York were reading a different story. An interpretive article in Thikana, a Bangladeshi diaspora newspaper published in New York, suggested that family pressures led Samiha to suicide, foregoing any mention of sexual abuse. The Thikana article questioned her character, stating that she had difficulty obliging to or understanding her parents’ religious discipline. It also described previous attempts of suicide, existing family problems, and her clinical depression which ultimately caused her death.

The article depicted Samiha’s parents as victims for losing their daughter and having to grieve her death; no testimonials from her parents were provided. Once published, the newspaper was criticized widely by youth for hiding the allegations of sexual abuse and, in doing so, missing an opportunity to start a critical inter-generational and inter-community dialogue on sexual abuse, mental illness, sexism, and the failure of the community to protect Samiha. Requests were made to both the editor and the newspaper for a re-published article to educate and enlighten the Bangladeshi community — however, these requests fell on deaf ears.

Unsurprisingly, many elders in the Bangladeshi community rejected the allegations of abuse committed against Samiha by her father. Outside of the generalized denial of abuse occurring in their communities, they considered her father’s piety and religious nature as sufficient evidence to clear him of such crimes. Additionally, they found abuse unlikely given that her mother never spoke out against it, assuming that her mother would have never allowed it and would have sought the appropriate care had she known. Following Samiha’s janazah (funeral) prayer, little was disclosed about the circumstances surrounding her passing in the community mosque, instead it was generally recommended that everyone take care and guide their children — subtle words suggesting an inverse relationship between religiosity and mental illness and abuse.

The fallout after Samiha’s death led to conflict between younger and older generations in the Bangladeshi community. Youth were driven to resent their parents for trusting sources like Thikana and for feeling sorry for Samiha’s parents. The disconnect between generations depicted the continued denial and ignorance about sexual violence, incest, and emotional manipulation existing in conservative South Asian communities.

“Everyone experiences it differently and the way we talk about it can have a significant effect on someone’s well being. so always be kind and empathetic.” — Samiha Khan, October 2nd 2016.

Unfortunately, the disconnect between generations on taboo topics is a reality that is not limited to Samiha’s case. South Asian parents often completely ignore, or are cautious to discuss, topics such as intimacy, sex, violence, and mental illness — this hesitancy is rooted deep in the South Asian culture of oppression, misogyny, and toxic masculinity.

Many of Samiha’s friends and others who read and heard about her tragic case made commitments to be more aware, help those living with mental illness, and to work to prevent suicide. However, barriers in the community, such as verbiage and communication, continue to prevent many youth from speaking to adults in their families about these issues. For example, South Asian youth have particular difficulty articulating words related to mental health, sex, and trauma in their family’s native language. Furthermore, these conversations often result in parents’, who do not know how to respond, attempting to use discipline as a form of prevention which is problematic for youth who have already been victimized and are suffering. Culturally appropriate resources and methods are necessary to bridge the existing inter-generational divide. Challenging youth to discuss these topics with their families, and vice-versa, may be difficult but is nonetheless crucial for change.

According to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network, a child is sexually assaulted every 8 minutes, and 93% know the perpetrator. The perpetrator is is often someone in a position of trust or responsible for taking care of the child.

The Bangladeshi community’s disbelief about Samiha’s case was not surprising given that child sexual abuse is largely a hidden crime. Sexual abuse is under-reported, especially in a culture where anything related to sex is taboo, and which often protects abusers — it remains difficult to accurately estimate the number of child victims. Though the impact varies from child to child, those who experience childhood sexual abuse are more vulnerable to mental illnesses such as post-traumatic stress disorder and depression. Consequently, belonging to a conservative immigrant family — coupled with cultural stigma — makes it more challenging for victims to access appropriate resources.

South Asian immigrant communities are more vulnerable to depression and other mental illnesses — where research shows that the lack of social support is a contributing factor to depression among immigrant youth. Overall, research on Bangladeshi youth specifically is limitedthe broader research on Asian immigrant youth does not control for factors such as history of sexual abuse, harsh parenting, and other factors.

While non-South Asian counterparts are often able to access care and express themselves through writing and sharing, South Asian communities prefer and condone silence. South Asian youth often do not have the vocabulary or skills necessary to express their emotions. Sadly, silence and denial are the preferred narratives in South Asian diaspora communities, given the cultural importance placed on social status and position. Silence allows for the protection of such status, foregoing the potential negative impact of disclosure and seeking help for mental illness.

A rainbow shines after a storm in Elmhurst, Queens. By Farzana Karim

Samiha Khan died at the young age of 23 — victimized by her own father and failed by her community. As a young South Asian woman, from a conservative and religious community, Samiha has since become a beacon for younger generations who refuse to accept the status quo. Far too often, these communities neglect and turn a blind eye to the prevalence of gender-based violence, sexual abuse, and mental illness. Embedded deeply in archaic cultural norms — such as the importance of social status, misogyny and rigid patriarchy — South Asian communities are failing to support their own children. Samiha’s story created fury and frustration among youth just like her, and quickly became a first step in creating the dialogue necessary to evoke change. Her legacy, though fraught in tragedy, is now that of hope — of changing the status quo in South Asian communities.

Resources:

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United States:

Canada:

Acknowledgements:

Thank you to IM WISE for publishing “Samiha’s Legacy” which — brought to light Samiha’s story and prompted us to continue her legacy one year after her passing.

Thanks to her friends whose insights allowed us to understand Samiha as a person, going far beyond illness.

The Bangladeshi Identity Project is an ongoing anthology of stories that resonate about the experience of growing up Bangladeshi in the West. Follow us on Medium and Facebook for new stories, and to contribute.

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