Written by Sister Zeph
August 29, 2013
Komal, a resident of a village near Lahore, lived in a once-happy family. They weren’t wealthy, and they didn’t own their home, but they had love. Komal was the youngest of four brothers and two sisters, and she cherished her education. With dreams in her heart and a determination to make every moment count, she studied diligently and assisted her mother with household chores.
By the time she reached the sixth grade, her world was shattered. Their rented home succumbed to a devastating flood, washing away all their belongings, including pots, clothes, and even her beloved books. Her father, valiantly attempting to salvage what remained, tragically lost his life. Left with her mother and five siblings, they sought refuge in a relative’s home in Gujranwala. Here, her mother took up stitching footballs, earning a mere $1 for four balls to sustain their lives.
Komal’s young brothers resorted to child labor to support the family. For ten years, they crammed into a single room. Her brothers married and moved into their own homes with their families, while Komal’s dreams of education were quashed. Relatives forbade her from pursuing her studies, and her mother, dependent on their hospitality, complied. Remarkably, despite the odds, Komal remained unmarried at the age of 21—an unusual occurrence in Pakistan, where she might have been expected to start a family by then.
I’ve dedicated sixteen years of my life to promoting girls’ education and empowerment in Pakistan as a volunteer. Just last week, I visited a nearby village to encourage girls to join my learning centers for skill development and formal education. It was there that I had the privilege of meeting Komal.
Her story moved me deeply. Her unwavering determination and resilience had kept her hope alive, her dreams of education burning bright. Ten long years had passed, but she hadn’t lost faith in her dreams. At the age of 21, well beyond the typical school-going age, she yearned to resume her studies.
I provided her with books and notebooks, and from the very next day, she became a part of our school. In the mornings, she honed her stitching and other skills, and in the evenings, she delved into her studies. Komal exuded confidence and kindness. When she held her books for the first time in years, it was as if a mother had been reunited with her children after a prolonged separation.
She confided in me that she had prayed for this opportunity for years. Despite her responsibilities of stitching footballs with her mother and caring for nieces and nephews, she made a resolute decision – she would study. I will forever carry the memory of that moment when tears of joy welled up in her eyes, and her face radiated hope, determination, and unwavering confidence. It was evident that she was on a mission to achieve her life’s goals, to transform her dreams into reality through the power of education and empowerment.