Introduction

Malala is the girl from Pakistan who stood up for education and was shot by the Taliban. In this book, you will learn her story. The Taliban believed that women should stay at home. Girls should not be given an education. Their role in life is to bear children and do the household chores.

But Malala Yousafzai said no. You will learn how a young girl awakened the world about the true situation. You will learn how a young girl challenged nations and gave power to every child. Malala is an inspiration. She is an example of bravery, strong will and passion.

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A Daughter is Born

In our culture, it is a sad day when a girl is born. Rifles are fired to celebrate a baby boy. But baby girls are hidden behind covers. My father is poor. He could not afford to bring my mother to the hospital or pay a midwife. The neighbor next door helped my mother give birth to me.

My uncle was one of the few people who came to visit. He gave some money to father as a gift. But he also brought our family tree. There written are the names of my ancestors, all traced back to the head of our clan. Not a single woman was listed there.

The Yousafzai clan belonged to the Pashtun community. It is part of our belief and tradition that a woman’s role in life is to give birth and do household chores. But my father was different. He took a pen. Below his name in the family tree, he drew a line and wrote the name that he gave me.

“Malala”. My father said that the moment he laid his eyes on me, he fell in love. He named me after Malalai, who was the greatest heroine of Afghanistan. In 1880, there was a war between the British and the Afghans. England wanted to invade Afghanistan.

Malalai, like the other women in her village, had to take care of the wounded soldiers and give them water. The young heroine saw that the Afghans were losing. She saw her father and betrothed fighting so hard.

She was only a teenager, but she was very brave. Malalai ran into the battlefield. She climbed up to a cliff. She saw that the flag bearer had fallen. Malalai took off her white veil and held it up high. She shouted encouraging words which strengthened the Afghan men.

Malalai was killed by a gunshot but she succeeded. The Afghan men were inspired by her bravery and they fought even harder. That battle was one of the biggest losses of the British army. My father was very proud of the name he had given me. He told Malalai’s story to me quite often.

Our family lived in the Swat valley located in the north-eastern part of Pakistan. Our village Mingor is surrounded by green mountains, high waterfalls, and clear lakes. To me, it is the most beautiful place in the world.

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Growing Up in a School

My father strongly believed in education. It was his life dream to open a school. He had worked hard for his own. None of his sisters went to school. My grandfather told him that he could not afford to send my father to college, so father found his own way.

He got involved in student activism. Father is a good speaker and a good debater. He gained his master’s degree in English. After graduating, father started working as a teacher. Then he found one college friend who agreed to open a school with him.

They called it Khushal School. It is in our hometown Mingor. Father had many debts, but he was very determined to push through. He invested all his savings in the school. Father and his friend could not even afford to buy sugar or tea. They started with only three students.

It was around this time that my father and mother got married. He was very devoted to my mother. Father was very driven to provide for his family and to keep running the school. There was even a typhoon and a flash flood which destroyed both our house and the school. Father made the difficult decision of selling mother’s wedding bangles.

Mother was afraid for him to know that their first-born was a girl. But father was very happy when he saw me. He told his friend that I’m a lucky girl. He said that good fortune came when I was born.

Our small family moved into one vacant room in the school. At the time, there were already 100 students and five teachers. Each student paid 100 rupees monthly. My father had many roles. He was a teacher. But he was also the accountant and the principal. He even cleaned the walls, the floors and all the bathrooms.

There was little money left for food. Father had to pay the teacher’s salary and the school building’s rent. But after several months, the school started to break even. Father loved education so much. I share that passion with him.

I’m very happy to grow up in a school. When I was three years old, I was included in classes of older children. I listened to the teachers and enjoyed the lectures. Sometimes, I pretended to be a teacher. I would go to the front and say the words that I could to the empty chairs.

When I learned to read, I became very fond of books. I just love learning so much and I always study hard. I was fortunate to be able to. My mother had never learned to read. My grandfather brought her to school when she was 6 years old. She was the only girl in her class.

Mother became jealous of her girl cousins who could stay at home and play. One day, my mother sold all her books and bought some candies. No one asked her about what she did. She grew up illiterate like many women in our village.

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