A Schoolgirls letter to Malala
Dear Malala,
Congratulations on winning the Nobel Peace Prize. You must be receiving a lot of letters. Here is another one.
Malala, I remember the time when Taliban tried to take your life. I was devastated. It struck me deep in my heart. For days I had nightmares of someone coming after me and trying to kill me at point blank range. I was scared to death during my short van rides to school and back. In the first few hours of your assassination attempt, I kept praying intensely for you. When I heard the news that your were taken to the UK for treatment, I took my first breath of relief. It gave me a ray of hope that you may survive, although the chances were grim. Then something strange happened. Everyone started questioning the decision of transporting you to the UK. Comments like, “Are drone victims not human beings?” and “What did Malala do to get this treatment?” started erupting. I felt something shattering inside my heart. For me, the most important thing was your safety. But every time I mentioned you, my family, friends, and even teachers shunned me. Malala, I wasn’t brave like you. I decided to stop talking about you.
I still remember when I received the news of your successful surgery. I was extremely happy that day, but didn’t quite show my exhilaration. You started going back to school. I felt grateful to Almighty God. You gave your first interview and I felt thrilled. I was happy in my little world where I could quietly celebrate your recovery. Then again, something strange happened. You were invited to the UN’s General Assembly to speak about children and women’s rights. My concern for you turned into pride. In my notebook I wrote, “One child, one teacher, one book, one pen, can change the world” in bold. That did not sit quite well with my teacher. She explained to the class how you are a traitor and a western stooge. To be honest with you Malala, she spoke with such vigor that I was kind of convinced. I felt sad for losing you as a role model but I was relieved that I was no more an outcast. Day by day, while you were busy making a mark in the history, my fellow schoolgirls and I were busy reading conspiracy theories about you.
I am sorry Malala, as I didn’t even know you were up for Nobel Prize. I had stopped caring about your achievements long ago. Then suddenly the news came that you have won the Nobel Peace Prize. I don’t know why but my eyes got teary. I couldn’t hold myself together. I turned the TV on to look for the news while flipping through all the Pakistani News Channels where they were busy showing the QasimBagh Tragedy, PTIDharna, roadside killings in Karachi and God knows what. Your news wasn’t worthy of “breaking news” or even headline status. Malala, I am sure that being the youngest Nobel Laureate, you would have gotten more coverage if you weren’t a Pakistani. At that moment I wished you weren’t a Pakistani. Malala, if you weren't a Pakistani, I would have plastered my room with your photos. But alas you are just a fellow Pakistani who "undeservedly" got the Nobel.
Malala! you don’t understand. You were already being labeled as a traitor. The Nobel Peace Prize has sealed that title for you. Don’t you remember how our science teachers avoided talking about Pakistan’s first Nobel Laureate in Physics? I think his name is Dr. Abdus Salam and he was an Ahmadi or something. My teacher said he was a Jewish agent and that’s why he got the Nobel Prize. Thank God Malala, you are not an Ahmadi. You are not even a Shia. You even cover your head and wear the Pakistani ShalwarQameez at all times and keep referring to Islam and speak Urdu and Pashto in your speeches. You even told President Obama to his face to stop the drone attacks. But Malala, you are still a Jewish agent, a western stooge and an American pawn.
I am still trying to understand why I got teary eyed. Maybe deep down in my heart I am happy for you, proud of you and embarrassed for you. You stood up against Taliban and for my right to an education and I can’t even openly idealize you. You see Malala, it’s hardest stand up to your loved ones and admire your achievements for what they are. I will keep admiring you in my heart until I am brave enough to call you my ideal.
Love,
A Pakistani Schoolgirl
Congratulations on winning the Nobel Peace Prize. You must be receiving a lot of letters. Here is another one.
Malala, I remember the time when Taliban tried to take your life. I was devastated. It struck me deep in my heart. For days I had nightmares of someone coming after me and trying to kill me at point blank range. I was scared to death during my short van rides to school and back. In the first few hours of your assassination attempt, I kept praying intensely for you. When I heard the news that your were taken to the UK for treatment, I took my first breath of relief. It gave me a ray of hope that you may survive, although the chances were grim. Then something strange happened. Everyone started questioning the decision of transporting you to the UK. Comments like, “Are drone victims not human beings?” and “What did Malala do to get this treatment?” started erupting. I felt something shattering inside my heart. For me, the most important thing was your safety. But every time I mentioned you, my family, friends, and even teachers shunned me. Malala, I wasn’t brave like you. I decided to stop talking about you.
I still remember when I received the news of your successful surgery. I was extremely happy that day, but didn’t quite show my exhilaration. You started going back to school. I felt grateful to Almighty God. You gave your first interview and I felt thrilled. I was happy in my little world where I could quietly celebrate your recovery. Then again, something strange happened. You were invited to the UN’s General Assembly to speak about children and women’s rights. My concern for you turned into pride. In my notebook I wrote, “One child, one teacher, one book, one pen, can change the world” in bold. That did not sit quite well with my teacher. She explained to the class how you are a traitor and a western stooge. To be honest with you Malala, she spoke with such vigor that I was kind of convinced. I felt sad for losing you as a role model but I was relieved that I was no more an outcast. Day by day, while you were busy making a mark in the history, my fellow schoolgirls and I were busy reading conspiracy theories about you.
I am sorry Malala, as I didn’t even know you were up for Nobel Prize. I had stopped caring about your achievements long ago. Then suddenly the news came that you have won the Nobel Peace Prize. I don’t know why but my eyes got teary. I couldn’t hold myself together. I turned the TV on to look for the news while flipping through all the Pakistani News Channels where they were busy showing the QasimBagh Tragedy, PTIDharna, roadside killings in Karachi and God knows what. Your news wasn’t worthy of “breaking news” or even headline status. Malala, I am sure that being the youngest Nobel Laureate, you would have gotten more coverage if you weren’t a Pakistani. At that moment I wished you weren’t a Pakistani. Malala, if you weren't a Pakistani, I would have plastered my room with your photos. But alas you are just a fellow Pakistani who "undeservedly" got the Nobel.
Malala! you don’t understand. You were already being labeled as a traitor. The Nobel Peace Prize has sealed that title for you. Don’t you remember how our science teachers avoided talking about Pakistan’s first Nobel Laureate in Physics? I think his name is Dr. Abdus Salam and he was an Ahmadi or something. My teacher said he was a Jewish agent and that’s why he got the Nobel Prize. Thank God Malala, you are not an Ahmadi. You are not even a Shia. You even cover your head and wear the Pakistani ShalwarQameez at all times and keep referring to Islam and speak Urdu and Pashto in your speeches. You even told President Obama to his face to stop the drone attacks. But Malala, you are still a Jewish agent, a western stooge and an American pawn.
I am still trying to understand why I got teary eyed. Maybe deep down in my heart I am happy for you, proud of you and embarrassed for you. You stood up against Taliban and for my right to an education and I can’t even openly idealize you. You see Malala, it’s hardest stand up to your loved ones and admire your achievements for what they are. I will keep admiring you in my heart until I am brave enough to call you my ideal.
Love,
A Pakistani Schoolgirl