Posted on Sister Zeph’s Journal
By Sister Zeph
Date: November 3, 2013
By Zephaniah
Noor, a diligent student pursuing her Bachelor’s degree, hails from a family with deeply ingrained traditions. Throughout their family history, none of the girls have ever had the opportunity to receive an education. Yet, Noor stands out as the exception. She successfully completed her intermediate education and even ventured into college. However, this journey was not without its challenges, especially for her mother, who took on the responsibility of accompanying her on public transport to school daily. Remarkably, she continues to do so, ensuring Noor’s access to education.
Noor possesses a remarkable talent for storytelling and is exceptionally compassionate toward my other students. She generously volunteers as a teacher at my school. With her presence, my worries fade away, for she possesses both courage and competence. Noor never scolds any of my students; instead, she imparts knowledge with love and care. Her life is brimming with dreams, driven by sensitivity and a profound belief in positive change. Post-exams, she aspires to craft blogs centered on women’s rights, drawing from the plethora of personal experiences within her family.
Over the past two years, she diligently saved her fees to secure admission to the university as a private candidate. However, a month ago, tragedy struck as her brother was involved in a severe accident. Noor had no choice but to allocate all her savings toward his medical treatment. I made a promise to cover her university fees, but now I’ve realized that she has yet to register, which requires additional funds. This weighs heavily on my heart as I sit in my office. Her face occupies my thoughts, and I am deeply troubled. Noor currently grapples with immense anxiety about her upcoming exams; her mind is perpetually consumed by thoughts of them, even haunting her dreams.
At this moment, I am penniless. I need approximately $80 to pay her tuition fees and cover the registration costs. The deadline for her admission is November 7, 2013. I find myself at a loss, overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness. My students are like my own children, and their struggles resonate with me as a mother’s pain would. Regrettably, there are times when I can do little to alleviate their hardships.