Transform the lives of 3200 children in Hyderabad

Rabiya, one of my girls, is heavily inspired by Malala Yousafzai. She often reiterates a famous quote by her: “One child, one teacher, one book, one pen can change the world.” Before I embarked on my Fellowship journey, this was just a beautiful thought. Now, a year into my Fellowship, it has become my anthem (much to Rabiya’s delight).  

I teach at Madina Mission High School. It is a low income private school set in the heart of Old City, Hyderabad, in a small neighbourhood called Jahanuma. It is one of the oldest communities, and possibly one of the most conservative. A good chunk of the people residing in the community see no real purpose in educating the girl child. Often times, girls are married o soon after they complete their matriculation. Many do not even get that far.  

Against this backdrop, it is not surprising that our children have an unquenchable thirst to prove themselves. When they were informed that a project exhibit hosted by COVA (Confederation of Voluntary Associations) in association with GHMC (Greater Hyderabad Municipal Cooperation) was inviting research papers written by high school students, they did not hesitate from seizing it.  

From this very community, we had 21 students, mostly girls, and mostly from Grade 6 go out and attempt to scale newer heights.  

Four out of these 21 students stole the show. They are little girls with big dreams and volition that will not let them settle. These four of my little girls, Rabiya, Shayma, Sakina, and Nousheen, began earnestly researching on Child Labour in their community. After having been with TFI for five years, these kids wanted to estimate how privileged they were. They wished to learn about this by looking into the stories of kids who, unlike them, did not even have access to education.

In about less than a month, in teams of two, they had co-authored not one but two research papers and presented them at the convention held on 27 February, 2018. They won the overall prize for the best research projects under the Child Labour category. One group proceeded to win first place for presentation while the other won third place. My little girls competed against children from grades 8, 9, and 10, children who are much older than they are, and won.  

The odds were not in their favour. They were expected to write papers that college students and professors would. A mammoth task for 11 year olds, some would say.  

My girls met, surpassed, and exceeded these expectations. They learnt the principles of research methodology. They crafted their problem statements. They scheduled their own field visits and dragged me along to observe. They were chased out of some places which were wary of four 11 year old girls asking all the right questions. They kept going back on their field visits anyway. They sent out emails and questionnaires to professionals. Many times, they did not receive a response. They just emailed more people. They interviewed willing subjects in person, and via video call. They read research papers and reviewed them. They collected data and presented it all on charts. They even went on to analyse the dierences in findings between their projects.  

In a community where women are expected to not be seen and never to be heard, my four little girls have made their presence felt. They are nurturing their voice, one that speaks loud and clear. They are fighting power structures every single day and are redefining what women in their community can do. This victory was one small step in that direction. They are slowly, but steadily, setting new benchmarks and have become examples of what grit and determination can do.  

It was not easy, no. It never is. It takes all that they have. The expectations they have for themselves and the expectations the community holds for them has them constantly in a state of cognitive dissonance. It takes monumental courage to dream in vivid colours when surrounded by bleak reality. These kids do it every single day.

You see, each child, every child has an indomitable, dauntless spirit. It becomes our responsibility to nurture it. For if you do, you will soon have your own Rabiya saying, “Trishima Didi, if Malala Yousafzai could do it, then why can’t I?”