How film transforms the way we see the world Sharmeen ObaidChinoy

I’m a storyteller,

but I’m also a troublemaker.

(Laughter)

And I have a habit
of asking difficult questions.

It started when I was 10 years old,

and my mother, who was raising
six children, had no time for them.

At 14, fed up with my increasingly
annoying questions,

she recommended that I begin writing
for the local English-language newspaper

in Pakistan,

to put my questions out
to the entire country, she said.

(Laughter)

At 17, I was an undercover
investigative journalist.

I don’t even think my editor knew
just how young I was

when I sent in a story
that named and shamed

some very powerful people.

The men I’d written about
wanted to teach me a lesson.

They wanted to shame me and my family.

They spray-painted my name
and my family’s name

with unspeakable profanities
across our front gate

and around our neighborhood.

And they felt that my father,
who was a strict man of tradition,

would stop me.

Instead, my father stood
in front of me and said,

“If you speak the truth,
I will stand with you,

and so will the world.”

And then he got –

(Applause)

And then he got a group of people together
and they whitewashed the walls.

(Laughter)

I’ve always wanted my stories
to jolt people,

to shake them into having
difficult conversations.

And I felt that I would be more effective
if I did something visual.

And so at 21, I became
a documentary filmmaker,

turning my camera
onto marginalized communities

on the front lines in war zones,

eventually returning home to Pakistan,

where I wanted to document
violence against women.

Pakistan is home to 200 million people.

And with its low levels of literacy,

film can change the way
people perceive issues.

An effective storyteller
speaks to our emotions,

elicits empathy and compassion,

and forces us to look
at things differently.

In my country, film had the potential
to go beyond cinema.

It could change lives.

The issues that I’ve always
wanted to raise –

I’ve always wanted to hold up
a mirror to society –

they’ve been driven
by my barometer of anger.

And my barometer of anger
led me, in 2014, to honor killings.

Honor killings take place
in many parts of the world,

where men punish women
who transgress rules made by them:

women who choose
to marry on their own free will;

or women who are looking for a divorce;

or women who are suspected
of having illicit relationships.

In the rest of the world, honor killings
would be known as murder.

I always wanted to tell that story
from the perspective of a survivor.

But women do not live to tell their tale

and instead end up in unmarked graves.

So one morning when
I was reading the newspaper,

and I read that a young woman
had miraculously survived

after being shot in the face
by her father and her uncle

because she chose to marry a man
out of her free will,

I knew I had found my storyteller.

Saba was determined to send
her father and her uncle to jail,

but in the days after
leaving the hospital,

pressure mounted on her to forgive.

You see, there was a loophole in the law

that allowed for victims
to forgive perpetrators,

enabling them to avoid jail time.

And she was told
that she would be ostracized

and her family, her in-laws,

they would all be shunned
from the community,

because many felt that her father
had been well within his right,

given her transgression.

She fought on –

for months.

But on the final day in court,

she gave a statement forgiving them.

As filmmakers, we were devastated,

because this was not the film
that we had set out to make.

In hindsight, had she pressed charges,
fought the case and won,

hers would have been an exception.

When such a strong woman is silenced,

what chance did other women have?

And we began to think about using our film

to change the way people
perceived honor killings,

to impact the loophole in the law.

And then our film was nominated
for an Academy Award,

and honor killings became headline news,

and the prime minister,
while sending his congratulations,

offered to host the first screening
of the film at his office.

Of course, we jumped at the chance,

because no prime minister in the history
of the country had ever done so.

And at the screening,

which was carried live
on national television,

he said something that reverberated
throughout the country:

“There is no honor
in honor killings,” he said.

(Applause)

At the Academy Awards in LA,

many of the pundits had written us off,

but we felt that in order
for the legislative push to continue,

we needed that win.

And then, my name was announced,

and I bounded up the steps in flip-flops,
because I didn’t expect to be onstage.

(Laughter)

And I accepted the statue,
telling a billion people watching

that the prime minister of Pakistan
had pledged to change the law,

because, of course, that’s one way
of holding the prime minister accountable.

(Laughter)

And –

(Applause)

Back home, the Oscar win
dominated headline news,

and more people joined the fray,

asking for the loophole
in the law to be closed.

And then in October 2016,
after months of campaigning,

the loophole was indeed closed.

(Applause)

And now men who kill women
in the name of honor

receive life imprisonment.

(Applause)

Yet, the very next day,

a woman was killed in the name of honor,

and then another and another.

We had impacted legislation,

but that wasn’t enough.

We needed to take the film
and its message to the heartland,

to small towns and villages
across the country.

You see, for me, cinema can play
a very positive role

in changing and molding society
in a positive direction.

But how would we get to these places?

How would we get to
these small towns and villages?

We built a mobile cinema,

a truck that would roll through
the length and breadth of the country,

that would stop
in small towns and villages.

We outfitted it with a large screen
that would light up the night sky,

and we called it “Look But With Love.”

It would give the community
an opportunity to come together

and watch films in the evening.

We knew we could attract men and children
in the mobile cinema.

They would come out and watch.

But what about women?

In these small, rural communities
that are segregated,

how would we get women to come out?

We had to work with prevailing
cultural norms in order to do so,

and so we built a cinema
inside the cinema,

outfitting it with seats and a screen
where women could go inside and watch

without fearing

or being embarrassed

or harassment.

We began to introduce everyone

to films that opened up their minds
to competing worldviews,

encouraging children
to build critical thinking

so that they could ask questions.

And we expanded our scope
beyond honor killings,

talking about income inequality,

the environment,

talking about ethnic relations,
religious tolerance and compassion.

And inside, for women,

we showed them films
in which they were heroes, not victims,

and we told them how they could navigate
the court system, the police system,

educating them about their rights,

telling them where they could seek refuge

if they were victims of domestic violence,

where they could go and get help.

We were surprised that we were
welcomed in so many of the places

that we went to.

Many of the towns had never seen
television or social media,

and they were eager
for their children to learn.

But there was also pushback and blowback

with the ideas that
we were bringing with us.

Two members of our mobile
cinema team resigned

because of threats from villages.

And in one of the villages
that we were screening in,

they shut it down

and said they didn’t want the women
to know about their rights.

But on the flip side, in another village
when a screening was shut down,

a plainclothes policeman got up
and ordered it back on,

and stood by, protecting our team,

telling everyone that it was his duty
to expose the young minds

to an alternative worldview
and to this content.

He was an ordinary hero.

But we’ve come across
so many of these heroes on our journey.

In another town, where the men said
that only they could watch

and the women had to stay home,

a community elder got up,

got a group of people together,
had a discussion,

and then both men and women
sat down to watch together.

We are documenting what we are doing.

We talk to people.

We adapt.

We change the lineup of films.

When we show men films

that show perpetrators
of violence behind bars,

we want to hit home the fact
that if men are violent,

there will be repercussions.

But we also show films where men
are seen as championing women,

because we want to encourage them
to take on those roles.

For women, when we show them films
in which they are heads of state

or where they are lawyers
and doctors and in leadership positions,

we talk to them and encourage them
to step into those roles.

We are changing the way
people in these villages interact,

and we’re taking our learnings
into other places.

Recently, a group contacted us
and wants to take our mobile cinema

to Bangladesh and Syria,

and we’re sharing our learnings with them.

We feel it’s really important

to take what we are doing
and spread it across the world.

In small towns and villages
across Pakistan,

men are changing the way
they interact with women,

children are changing
the way they see the world,

one village at a time, through cinema.

Thank you.

(Applause)