Posted on Sister Zeph’s Journal
By Sister Zeph
Date: December 11, 2014
The journey from my office to home usually takes fifteen to twenty minutes. It’s a time when many students and their mothers gather, seeking guidance and solutions to their problems. However, yesterday, as I arrived home, a distressing scene unfolded before me. My student, Maha, was there, trembling with fear and crying inconsolably, while my sister tried to comfort her. The sight deeply saddened me, prompting an immediate response. Maha rushed into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably, pleading for help, and questioning if she had done anything wrong. She assured me of her diligence, emphasizing that she had never crossed any boundaries, avoiding any interaction with boys. She declared her unwavering commitment to her education and implored me to intervene.
I asked Maha to sit down, offered her a glass of water, and assured her that I would assist her. She would not have to abandon her studies. However, I needed to understand the issue first.
Maha began to recount the troubling events. She shared that when her mother was away, she heard a commotion in the neighboring house. A woman was calling for help, as she was being subjected to domestic violence. Maha, without hesitation, rushed to aid her distressed neighbor, unaware that two boys had also come to assist. Tragically, her own younger brother, a 14-year-old, arrived at the scene and, unfoundedly, accused Maha of speaking with the boys. He subsequently reported this to her mother, who, in response, decreed that Maha should cease attending school. Her mother feared that her father would respond with lethal violence, not only towards Maha but also her mother, and that she had breached their trust. As a result, she was to remain confined at home until her marriage. Maha revealed that she had gone without food for two days, was unwell, and suffered from a painful back condition, exacerbated by the stress.
I immediately provided her with a meal and a cup of tea and promised to visit her home to advocate for her right to continue her education, clarifying that her intention was to assist the distressed neighbor, not to engage with the boys.
Now, after 15 hours, I am at my office contemplating my visit to Maha’s home. My heart aches for her. She harbors but one dream: to acquire an education. At just 16 years old, she is in the 10th grade, and her journey has been an arduous one. I wonder if she has had a proper meal, received her medication, or spent sleepless nights in anguish, fearing that her educational dreams may never come to fruition.
In our world, countless individuals harbor grand aspirations. Yet, in my country, thousands of girls share a singular dream—to receive an education. For many, this dream remains unfulfilled. I implore all our readers to join me in prayer, as I approach Maha’s mother with the hope that she will allow her daughter’s dreams to come true. It is our collective responsibility to make this a reality for every girl. We must convey to individuals like Maha’s brother and father that a girl’s aspiration for an education is not a crime but a fundamental right.