SHEPHERD
TO TEACHER:
THE STORY OF ONE
GIRL WHO TOOK A RISK
by Hannah White
I
n the far north of Pakistan, on the border with Afghanistan’s remote Wakhan
Corridor, is the village of Garhill. In
Garhill, like other villages in the region, most of the men and women are uneducated. A majority of the village’s inhabitants
work as shepherds. The older generation
particularly sees no need for schooling.
Why worry about literacy and arithmetic
when you spend most of your time tending
sheep, goats, and yaks? Education would be
a waste, especially for girls, they say. But one
man saw it differently.
Having worked as a policeman at the
Afghanistan-Pakistan border for over 30
years, Aziz Begum had traveled outside of
his home village and seen more of Pakistan
than most people in his hometown. He was
open to the idea of education, even for his
daughter Gulnar.
“When I was age 7 and there was a primary school in the area 3 km far from our
home, my father took me to the school with
my brother,” said Gulnar.
She remembers the villagers teasing her
father. They didn’t understand why he didn’t
just have his children look after the family’s
livestock like everyone else in the village.
But Aziz thought education was important.
Gulnar proved to be a good student. She
completed all five grades offered at the local
primary school and then, under the tutelage
of her teacher Mr. Zar, she completed an
12 | JOURNEY OF HOPE
extra year and studied for sixth-grade exams.
With some hard work and the help of her
dedicated teacher, she was able to pass.
“So many thanks to CAI,”
Gulnar wrote in a message.
“You educate a girl, and she
will change the world!”
Then her life changed. A graduate of
the sixth grade, she was told that she was
engaged to a local boy. She was just 13
years old.
“I was surprised and shocked also, but I
could not do anything because it was the
custom of our area and the people think
when a girl is in age of 12 or more she
should be married because she is adult
enough.”
In 2008 she had a child. With that she
thought her life would continue like every
other woman in her village — she would
have a child every year or every other year,
and stay home to care for them. Her education was over. But her luck changed when
two visitors came to town.
Two friends of her father came to
Gulnar’s home for food and tea. They
brought with them the promise of an opportunity. Central Asia Institute Gilgit was
looking for a girl from the region with a
basic education who might be interested in
becoming a health worker.
Gulnar and her father were intrigued.
Gulnar had the education, but she also
had a two-month-old baby. The training
was in Charpurson, at least a two-day
journey by foot or horse. No small feat
with a small child in tow, but Gulnar and
her father agreed that she should go. In the
end, it took Gulnar five days of hard traveling to reach Charpurson.
“It was risk for a newly born baby and
mother also. But I salute to my father courage he told me one life lose is no any big
deal. When you will be good trained you
will save so many lives.”
Gulnar and her son reached Charpurson
safely, and after a few days rest she began
her training to become a health worker in
the company of 20 other students.
“It was hard days in my life because I
cannot understand English or even Urdu, a
single word. Thanks to Mam Dilshad, CAI
Women’s Development Program Director,
who taught me all the training in Wakhi (a
dialect spoken in Northern Pakistan, and
parts of Afghanistan and Tajikistan) which
was also hard for me because her Wakhi
and Brughil Wakhi, my language, is also
somehow different.”
Despite the challenges, a month and a
half later Gulnar returned to her village
CENTRAL ASIA INSTITUTE