Some voices sound louder even though they are in whispers: when they speak for many. Habiba Zaman's recent book, Reframing My Worth: Memoir of a Bangladeshi-Canadian Woman, though written in a poised voice, as if in whispers, reaches our ears louder as it speaks for those who transcend inscrutable worlds at silent paces through indefatigable resilience, determination, and composure. She crafts a gripping chronicle of her colourful life that weaves through geographical boundaries, cultural identities, and transformations in a gendered context.

Habiba Zaman, a retired professor of Gender, Sexuality, and Women's Studies at Simon Fraser University in British Columbia, Canada, shares her multilayered story of personal metamorphosis, her constant mediation between identities and self-awareness in cultural contexts, and eventual becoming of what she is. Looking from a treetop, and through an accessible, layman language, she skillfully sketches how a diffident young girl, dispossessed of the ancestral inheritance after losing her father at 8, and raised in different maternal relatives' houses in some nondescript rural neighbourhoods in then East Pakistan, eventually ended up in an ocean-facing exquisite penthouse in North America's most beautiful city of Vancouver as an accomplished professor.

Though she claims it a memoir, the book linearly portrays her life, nearly chronologically, though not entirely, like an autobiography, mirroring the complexity of her memory and identity formation. Her Bangladesh chapters are a rich repertoire of childhood memories of a resolute girl who carries the vivid trauma of a lost father, deprived of parental love and inheritance—especially a mother's comforting presence—and grows up with distant relatives in a complex and sordid socioeconomic, cultural, and family context. She paints her life through amazing details, sometimes deeply personal and emotional, which charts her trajectory for growth and transformation into a person with ingrained resilience, foresight, and practical wisdom. 

Here, we see a woman constantly struggling with her traditional environments, growing up in an utterly patriarchal (if not inherently misogynistic) economic, religious and cultural tradition, forging her way usually not trodden by other contemporary women, and shaping and reshaping her identity to reach her dreams and destiny. She digs out, dispassionately yet resolutely, the patriarchy's overarching tentacles that tether every girl and woman, irrespective of her socioeconomic upbringing and heritage, within a periphery defined by its male protagonists. She reveals how women's activities, aspirations, and navigation of social networks, i.e. every domain of living a meaningful human life, are defined, intricately woven, and subtly controlled by the society's deeply entrenched patriarchal philosophy and dimensions. 

While telling the story of the evolution of her emerging self, Zaman never forgets the context in which she mediates all her actions and aspirations. Beyond her family saga, in a few brief anecdotes, she captures the economic disparity purportedly instituted by the then Pakistani government between its East and Western provinces, the seething tension in exercising rights and privileges by these two populations, and the consequential advent of an independent Bangladesh. Her story brings alive the pre- and post-liberation tumultuous and decadent decades of 1960s through '80s in Bangladesh, with its baggage of economic uncertainties, political upheavals, and a rapidly shifting sociocultural biome, which is an invaluable contribution to the ethnographic history of the land.

The second part of the book resides in her struggle for settling and fitting into a society that is far apart from Bangladesh in geography, language, culture, economy, and social norms and expectations. In addition to her quotidian anxieties for family, children, and home, Zaman points to other real challenges for immigrants: uncertainty of a steady job and career, physical movement across the city, childcare and schooling, and a decent living. A non-linear narrative structure emerges that allows her to traverse between past and present, Bangladesh and Canada, creating a dynamic tapestry of experiences. This style reflects the fragmented nature of diasporic identity, and recreates the sensation of existing between worlds, a theme that permeates the latter part of the memoir.

In this part, we find the same woman, now on the streets of Winnipeg, Lethbridge, Victoria, Fredericton, Vancouver, and some other cities, wading through the nearly similar difficulties of patriarchal social constructions, though not as pathetic as in Bangladesh, but in a mutated, emasculated, and seemingly benign gendered society of Canada then. Here, her avenues are less winding, destinations clearer, and barriers surmountable. The frequent expressions of unbridled gratitude towards all the hands extended to her charting new ways unveils her truer humane facet and her acknowledgement of society's acceptance of an immigrant woman into its gendered spectrum.

Throughout the book, Zaman's writing style balances prosodic passages with candid reflection, allowing readers to experience both the emotional resonance of pivotal moments and their immediate cultural and cognitive significance. Particularly reflective are her eloquent descriptions of life in Bangladesh, which provide a vivid cultural backdrop while establishing a deep connection to her ancestors' land. This influences her later immigrant experience in many ways.

One major strength of the memoir is her consistent self-reflexivity. She frequently pits her perceptions and recollections against the acknowledged subjective nature of memory, and the construal of how present circumstances redefine interpretations of past events. This introspection adds shades to the narrative and invites readers to consider how their life stories are constructed and reconstructed over time.

Zaman's memoir serves as a cultural translation between Bangladesh and Canada, turning one cultural context discernible to the other without oversimplification or exoticisation. She presents Bangladeshi customs, family structures, and social norms and expectations with insider knowledge and from the perspective gained from cultural distance. This dual vision allows her to view patriarchal aspects of her home culture while simultaneously challenging stereotypical Western assumptions about South Asian women.

Another aspect of this memoir is her exploration of belonging: she rejects the traditional immigrant's dichotomy of choosing between assimilation and cultural preservation. Instead, she advances the idea of belonging as a continual negotiation between these two to reach a balanced blend that upholds her true self. Uprooted from her ancestral soil, she finds the concept of home evolved throughout the narrative from a geographical location to a more abstract sense of community and self-acceptance.

Zaman's journey, though uncertain and tumultuous at every turn of event, moves in the memoir fluidly. But there are also occasional ripples of broader social and political contexts that emerge to shape her experiences. As a corollary, she does not suggest any simple resolutions or uphold fixed identities. She straddles ambiguity and prefers to celebrate continual becoming, a major undercurrent throughout her narrative. For readers and scholars interested in diaspora studies, feminist theory, and immigrant narratives, Zaman's memoir thus becomes a source of valuable insights into the complex schema of identity formation in transnational contexts. 

Admitting a vulnerable past requires great courage and foresight, especially when riddled with social and personal adversities. And a woman intent on publishing it needs to move a mountain. Habiba Zaman's unflinching portrayal of her challenging past is a testament to her bravery, which would invite many other women professionals in both cultures to share their stories of rebellion and victories and find their true worth.

Wasiq Azad, a Chartered Professional Accountant and MBA, is a finance professional and freelance cultural critic. He lives in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.