Marriages fail not because women work, but because mindsets refuse to evolve. The real crisis is not careers, but the absence of empathy and partnership in homes.
Tahira Ellahe
In today’s modern world, where education has entered homes and women stand shoulder to shoulder with men in every profession, a painful question echoes through society: Why are divorces increasing among working couples? Is independence breaking marriages? Or is suppressed injustice finally finding a voice?
Naira is educated, sincere and hardworking. She carries strong values and silent dreams in her heart. She marries Suhaib, a government employee. From the outside, they appear to be a perfect couple—two professionals building a life together. But behind closed doors, the reality is heavy.
Each morning, Naira leaves for work with determination. She fulfils her professional duties with honesty and dedication. Yet when she returns home, her second shift begins. A pile of unwashed utensils waits in the kitchen. Responsibilities wait. Expectations wait.
Pregnant and already exhausted, she changes her clothes quietly and begins washing dishes. She prepares dinner for everyone. Her feet ache. Her back burns. One hand wipes her tears; the other stirs the food. She carries life within her womb, yet carries the weight of the household alone.
Meanwhile, Suhaib rests in his room after office, enjoying what society calls the privilege of being a man.
One evening, gathering courage from her broken heart, Naira softly asks her husband to help her in the kitchen. It is not rebellion. It is not ego. It is a request for partnership. Before anyone else can speak, his mother’s voice pierces the air, accusing her character for even suggesting such a thing.
Her dignity trembles, but this time, something within Naira refuses to remain silent. With moist eyes yet a steady voice, she turns toward her husband and says, “Does a man lose his strength if he helps his wife? Does his muscularity fade if he washes a plate or holds a broom?”
Her words hang in the silence. “Muscularity is not measured by how cruel a man can be toward his wife,” she continues softly. “True strength is measured by how deeply he can feel… how connected he is to the pain of those around him. True masculinity is compassion. It is protecting, not overpowering. It is sharing burdens, not increasing them.”
Her voice trembles, but her truth stands firm. “Isn’t real strength the ability to care for every living creature? To stand beside your wife, not above her?”
Instead of understanding, anger rises in her husband’s eyes. He accuses her of disrespecting his mother. He calls her arrogant. He says her education has filled her with ego. He begins quoting religious guidelines about obedience and respect for elders.
But he forgets the spirit of the religion he speaks of. He forgets that the Prophet himself showed compassion and kindness to his wives. He forgets that true faith is humility. That helping within one’s home is not weakness—it is character.
Religion becomes selective in memory. A man remembers religion when it demands silence from his wife—but forgets it when it demands justice from him. He forgets religion when he accepts her salary to build his house and secure his comfort. He forgets faith when he shifts the responsibility of his parents entirely onto a woman who left her own parents behind.
A woman who swallowed the pain of leaving her family. A woman who sacrifices her dreams to bring new life into this world. A woman who is told she must endure endlessly.
Gender roles are not divine commands written in the sky. They are social constructs shaped by centuries of imbalance. True religion stands for justice, mercy and fairness. It does not demand that one gender suffer so the other can rest.
God does not expect women to be superhuman. Society does. A woman is not a machine of endurance. She is not created to earn outside, serve inside, remain silent, remain graceful, and never break. She is human. She needs rest. She needs compassion. She needs recognition. She needs comfort. She is not “superwoman.” She is as ordinary as a man.
When fairness disappears from a marriage, love slowly suffocates. Continuous humiliation and emotional neglect do not strengthen families. They create anxiety. They bring depression. They fracture trust. They turn homes into quiet battlegrounds.
And then society asks, Why are divorces increasing among working couples?
Divorce is rarely sudden. It grows slowly in the soil of injustice. It grows where partnership is replaced by power. It grows where religion is quoted without compassion. It grows where strength is mistaken for dominance.
The real crisis is not that women are working. The real crisis is that mindsets are not evolving.
A marriage survives not on earnings, but on empathy. Not on authority—but on equality. Not on control—but on connection.
Perhaps the question is not, “Why are working couples divorcing?” Perhaps the real question is, “Why is justice still missing inside educated homes?”
Until marriages become partnerships instead of hierarchies, until strength is defined by compassion, until religion is lived with sincerity and not used to justify man’s comfort, the tears of women like Naira will continue to fall silently. And broken homes will continue to ask questions that society is still afraid to answer.
The writer works in the School Education Department, J&K
ta***********@***il.com