Last year, she entered her husband’s home with hopes and quiet dreams. Dreams which every village girl sees about her secure future. Village life was harsh and unforgiving. Instead of laughter, her days echoed with commands. The smallest mistake brought scorn. Her hands, once meant to build a future, grew weary from endless chores. Her smile began to fade, swallowed by exhaustion. It was as if the weight of generations pressed down upon her, demanding that she bear it all without question.
In all these hectic moments, she did not lose hope. She often thought of going to school, and wondered what life could have been if she had been born a son. In her daydreams, she walked freely in fields, spoke without fear, and was listened to with respect. But as a daughter—then a bride—her path was already carved for her, a path where ceilings were too low for her to rise and doors were closed before she could knock.
Every effort she made went unseen, undervalued, as she tried to convince her husband. Sometimes she wondered if the world outside the village was different—if women there could breathe more freely. But for her, freedom and education were only dreams, never realities.
It took her almost a year to convince her husband that she should resume her studies. Ahmed was a man shaped by patriarchal thinking, firmly against girls’ education. But she convinced him. She molded his mind with patience. Her unwavering and untiring day-and-night efforts brought Ahmed to her side in the battle between his heart and his inherited beliefs.
She began going to the high school, three kilometers away from her village. After classes, Ahmed would come to take her home on his bicycle. All the other girls were like her—except she always had henna on her hands, which made her different from the rest.
One day during Ramadan, she was reading under the dim lamp in her home. The cow watched her quietly; the dog sat at the far end of the courtyard. The soft clang of a neighboring cow’s bell disturbed her, but she ignored even the chirping of the grasshoppers. Her focus was fixed on her English chapter about Inclusive Society.
Suddenly, a deafening sound broke the night. It felt as if someone had fired nearby. The silence of nature was shattered. The cow stood up; the dog began to bark. Within a split second, a mortar shell felt close by, tearing through earth and air alike.
In that violent moment, the fragile balance of her life collapsed. Her dreams, her quiet resistance, her hopes of a gentler tomorrow—all were buried in dust.
She lay apart, clutching the pencil that was about to write the words “The Importance of Girls’ Education in an Inclusive Society.”