“I am sad watching my uniform, school bag and geometry box. I felt hurt on opening my wardrobe and seeing my uniform, school bag and geometry box. Boys’ schools are opening tomorrow.” Eleven-year-old Pakistani Malala Yousafzai wrote this in her diary on February 20, 2005 — nine years later, she would become a symbol of resistance for an entire generation.
Malala was named by her father after Malalai of Maiwand, the famous warrior woman of Afghanistan. Malalai is an Afghan folk hero who is said to have rallied Pashtun fighters against British troops in the late 19th century. She is sometimes called the Afghan Joan of Arc. Like Malalai, Malala has become a heroic beacon for her country — and suffered the consequences that come with this status.
Years after this first diary entry, Malala became breaking news at a time when Pakistan seemed to receive breaking news every half hour. She was shot by the Taliban on her way to school — they claimed full responsibility for the attack and said that, if she survived, they would attack again.
At a time when my country was in a fragile state, Malala became a symbol of hope and peace.
Malala had already become a household name in Pakistan. Before the attack, she was an education activist who wrote an online blog under a pseudonym and appeared on many different news channels, advocating for equality, women’s education, and a progressive Pakistan.
How could she not be seen as a threat? She fought to make Pakistani women engaged, educated, and independent — the extremist Taliban would never tolerate this.
After the attack, Pakistanis came together to pray for this brave young girl; at a time when my country was in a very fragile state, she became a symbol of hope and peace. If she survived, we would survive.
And boy, did she survive. She was transported to England where she received treatment for her life-threatening injuries and decided — very reluctantly, I might add — not to return to Pakistan, at least for a while. Given the threats from the Taliban, it’s hard to blame her.
However, Malala didn’t let a bullet stop her. After relocating to England, she continued to advocate for education in her home country with determination.
Malala was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize on October 10, becoming the youngest Nobel Laureate and the second from Pakistan. The honour is richly deserved. She was a young girl, completely aware of the threat the Taliban posed to her and her family; yet she continued to stand up for her rights and the rights of fellow Pakistanis. How many in her position would have done the same? Very, very few.
Of course, many Pakistanis continue to believe that Malala represents the ideals of the white saviour complex. Her story, to them, represents all that is wrong with Pakistani activism: she was shot tragically in Pakistan, moved to England, and now lives happily with her family, away from the threat of extremism.
Being from Pakistan myself, I understand these arguments — but I believe she represents all that is right with my country. Far from being a political puppet, Malala has openly criticized President Obama’s policy on drone strikes in the Middle East and has never wavered in her commitment to education and equality, even when these beliefs stand in opposition to western ideas.
According to Time magazine, Pakistan ranks second last on issues of education, economic empowerment, national health, and political empowerment of women. UNICEF figures indicate that Pakistan ranks extremely low on the global literacy scale: 113th among 120 countries. Amidst all of this, it is essential to recognize the significance of a girl who fought the powers that be with her words — writing a public blog speaking out against the Taliban’s unfair laws towards girls’ education.
Hers is a powerful voice not only because of the attention her life story has garnered, but because her cause is an immensely powerful one: to educate the women of Pakistan. However, her struggle has led her to be cast as a westernized figure — a remarkably ill-fitting title.
Malala’s story bears many parallels to that of Nabila Rehman, another brave young woman from Pakistan. But unlike Malala, Nabila’s story is mostly unknown; the West has largely ignored her experiences, much like Malala’s criticisms of drone strikes have been swept under the rug.
Nabila Rehman and her brother travelled to Washington to share their story of how they narrowly survived the drone attacks which killed their grandmother, and urged Obama to stop killing innocent victims. Where Malala’s journey has been covered by multiple media sources, Nabila’s has fallen on deaf ears. But both Rehman’s powerful testimonies and Malala’s continuing activism show how heroism and resistance can withstand even the most intense and horrifying acts of violence.
In an article for Al Jazeera, writer Murtaza Hussain argues that “Malala for her struggles was to be made the face of the American war effort — against her own will if necessary — while innumerable little girls such as Nabila will continue to be terrorized and murdered as part of this war without end.”
Whether or not the western world casts Malala as a symbol benefitting its own ideologies, Pakistanis need to understand that she fights for the same things that they fight for — the right to education, and a life free of oppression.
This young woman’s wisdom, influence and strength continue to inspire people of all cultures and backgrounds. She doesn’t raise her voice, yet it never quivers. She openly admits to missing her country and hopes to one day return. With a dupatta on her head, she always carries a face that shows her strength and fearlessness.
Malala has made great strides in the fight for human rights in Pakistan, but her gift to the world is even greater: she is an enduring example of how anyone can change the world, providing they’re willing to work for it. In rewarding her the Peace Prize, we’re recognizing a remarkable woman who continues to give her life to make her country — and the rest of the world — a better place.
