The cover of my book, Secrets of the Henna Girl, shows a girl's hands covered with bridal henna design. Yet, look closely and you will notice a pair of silver handcuffs among her colourful bangles.
The bride is a prisoner and she is being led to her wedding ... a marriage that she does not want.
Since I wrote this book, I repeatedly get asked if this experience was my own. Did my parents put obligations to our extended family over their love for me? Did bridal henna adorn my hands whilst my heart cried in protest against a future that was not of my choosing?
Fortunately my parents did nothing of the sort. They, like so many people who originate from South Asia, are very firmly against forced marriages. This stems from their Muslim belief that a forced marriage is not a valid marriage as the free consent of both the bride and groom is essential. Forced marriages are, in fact, a cultural practise.
My fascination with the issue arose some seven years ago when I was working in the House of Commons as a researcher for an MP. As the place where the country's challenges are raised, I came across brave Asian women who shared their harrowing experiences with parliamentarians so that awareness of the issue could be raised on a national level.
Listening to the survivors, I always felt disturbed at how totally alone and desperate they felt. Some of them were forced to marry overseas (much like the situation of my main character) and some were forced into marriages right here in the UK. But none of them felt they could turn to an official body for help. Not the police, not teachers, not British embassies, no one.
Thankfully a lot has changed over these last few years because of the bravery of these women. They spoke frankly about their teenage experiences and now we have better informed teachers, social workers and police who have been trained to deal with such situations. But still - after talking to one law enforcer who has dedicated much of his career to helping young victims - not enough awareness of the issue has been raised among today's teenagers. That, he told me, was where the challenge lies because until teenagers learn that they are allowed to ask for help, the cultural practice will just carry on and on.
And so I decided to write Secrets of the Henna Girl. My heroine does her best to escape the life her parents have planned, and I hope teenagers will find her story inspiring.
