Professor at work, “Pathumma” at home: the hidden burdens of Muslim women professionals in Kerala

By Dr Sapphire Mahmood Ahmed

Kerala is often celebrated as one of India’s most progressive states. A recent article in Times of India, titled “From Pathumma to Professor”, celebrates the astonishing shift in the stature of women in Kerala, particularly the Muslim-dominated district of Malappuram. The writer Umer O. Thasneem celebrates how women are rewriting Kerala’s gender story.

The colloquial name Pathumma – a nod to Vaikom Muhammed Basheer’s famous character from Pathummayude Aadu – is used in Kerala, especially in Malappuram, to describe generations of innocent, homebound women who managed domestic responsibilities without formal schooling.

Unlike the Pathumma of earlier generations, the article notes that women are now achieving higher education and professional success at unprecedented rates. This transformation, something unimaginable even for early millennials, is commendable, reflecting decades of social and educational progress.

But beneath these stories of degrees and promotions lies another, quieter truth, one that Pathumma, the archetypal homemaker in Kerala’s cultural memory, might still recognize.

Progress in public spaces tells only half the story. While society and media cheer for our degrees and researches, very few notice the quiet juggling act happening at home. Even as Muslim women rise in the world, domestic expectations placed upon them remain largely unchanged.

The same women who are producing research papers or leading projects also manage meals, laundry, relatives and sometimes an entire household. The traditional patriarchal expectations (the thatha archetype, referring to the Muslim elder sister) have not vanished. Instead, they have become subtler, often hidden behind the mask of education and modernity.

“Pathumma” represents more than a name. She stands for generations of women whose intelligence, resilience and labour were confined within the walls of their homes. In contrast, the contemporary Kerala woman is imagined as educated, articulate and professionally ambitious.

This raises an important question: have family patterns genuinely shifted or have they adapted merely to appear more modern? For many women, internal family dynamics have changed little.

The invisible labour running parallel to the achievements is rarely acknowledged. Many women who teach, pursue PhDs, or work full-time are also managing meals, caregiving, parental duties, emotional labour and extended-family obligations.

Multitasking has become a celebrated “strength” but it is a strength demanded almost exclusively of women. In many homes, male participation in domestic work remains minimal or symbolic, even as families proudly showcase the women’s academic or professional success.

The recent celebration of Dr Noorjahan’s PhD in Malappuram, which was termed “PhD kalyanam” (or “PhD wedding”, a celebratory gathering resembling a wedding reception), illustrates the tension between public recognition and private realities.

While the event highlighted her remarkable academic achievement, it also underscores the enduring expectation placed on women within families. Noorjahan’s decade-long journey to complete her doctorate required negotiating professional ambitions alongside childcare, teaching and domestic responsibilities.

Though her achievement was rightly celebrated, it also exposes a crucial truth: even highly educated families continue to rely on women to hold households together, regardless of their professional commitments. Modernity, in many homes, has upgraded women’s aspirations but not necessarily redistributed responsibilities.

The accumulation of domestic responsibilities and professional duties can strain mental and physical health. In some cases, it can contribute to marital breakdowns or divorce.

Recent reports on the increasing number of divorce cases filed in Kerala – over 30,000 in 2024 – are quite revealing. Legal professionals link this trend not only to irreconcilable differences but also to the mounting stress borne by women of all religions in Kerala who, despite professional or educational achievements, continue to shoulder extensive domestic and emotional labour.

Advocate Shaniba Ali from the Kerala High Court attributes part of this rise to gendered mismatch: “We have focused on educating women to be independent but we forgot to educate men on how to live with an independent woman.”

These figures and observations align with the broader theme; the thatha legacy continues to impose intense and sometimes unsustainable demands on women.

Divorce, in this context, is less a personal choice and more a reflection of systemic inequality, where the domestic and emotional labour demanded of women exceeds what is psychologically and physically sustainable.

Such outcomes highlight that public achievement does not automatically erase the domestic obligations that quietly wait for them at home. These burdens are invisible, yet they shape decisions, careers and, most importantly, mental and emotional wellbeing.

Acknowledging women’s educational and professional accomplishments is essential, but recognition alone is not empowerment. Kerala’s success story remains incomplete if it overlooks the disproportionate domestic and emotional load carried by women.

True gender equality requires not only opening doors to schools, universities and workplaces, but also rethinking what happens inside our homes. This is about noticing the imbalance.

Empowerment in public spaces coexists with persistent internal pressure, and both dimensions are critical for understanding the true state of gender equality. Equal rights are not about breaking glass ceilings but about making sure the climb doesn’t come at the cost of daily life.

The transformation in Kerala is not just symbolic. A new report highlights changing aspirations among women aged 18-35: women are studying more, delaying marriage, and joining the workforce in larger numbers.

However, unless domestic responsibilities, emotional labour and decision-making become genuinely shared, Pathumma’s shadow will continue to follow her modern descendants.

True empowerment lies not only in degrees earned or promotions achieved, but in the freedom to pursue ambition without carrying an unequal share of invisible labour.

Kerala’s story of progress is compelling, but to be complete, it must include the quiet spaces behind closed doors – where equality is still being negotiated. Until then, the story remains half-written, waiting for its next more honest chapter.

Dr Sapphire Mahmood Ahmed is a researcher and academic whose work focuses on gender, culture, and women’s everyday experiences in Kerala. She teaches literature and researches digital narratives, emotional labour and identity.