“We
are all equal, no matter your skin color, race, language, hair or religion”.
That was my mom’s words. I live with my mother together with my two younger
brothers in a small province of Punjab in Pakistan. I am Aadila Az-zahra, 15
year old girl, Muslim. I grew up in a place of worship and strong belief of
Allah. We were raise in the word of Quran. I live in a country of chaos, war
and discrimination for girls.
I was
seven years old back then when I realized that war isn’t an ordinary thing that
just happen, that was when I saw my father die during the fight of two armed
group. I grew thinking that war was just an ordinary fight and guns and long
arms were just a toy for us kids.
I
was 12 years old when I witnessed the most violent war of my life. A special Tuesday
afternoon, mom is cooking for my younger brothers’ birthday. When a mortar hit
our home, I was out for a while. I can’t see anything but dust and crumbled
stones. I looked for them. But I never saw them. I was grabbed by an American soldier,
I have no energy left to resist, so I just cried. They offer to bring us in America,
thinking that I could start anew their so I agreed. Because they cannot afford
to raise us all they offered us a job as a maid or nanny.
There
I experienced the greatest humiliation and discrimination, though I was lucky
enough to have a boss that doesn’t care about my religion. But whenever I go
out, people are afraid of me, thinking that because I am a Muslim I’m a
terrorist, they make fun of me throwing anything. The pain is triple in my
body, mind and heart. I almost lost my sane and hope, never thinking that my
life still has a chance to change.
Sunday
morning when I realized that my boss is talking with some people in the living
room, I sneaked in because of curiosity. I felt happiness when I saw the woman
in hijab. I got confused with her company, they were not Muslims. My boss
called me when he realized I was there watching them. The guests introduced themselves,
the woman in hijab is a muslim teacher, the other one was a catholic priest and
a nun, and the other one is also a muslim wearing an Americana. They asked me
if I wanna come with them, I looked at my boss and he nodded with smile. I was very
happy that I hugged him.
So
we travelled, after an hour and a half, the car went inside a shelter. There I
saw different kind of people some are my age, some are younger and some older
ones. Everyone is happy talking, laughing and playing. It was mix of Americans,
Asians, black, white, Catholics and Muslims. So I remembered my mom’s words “We
are all equal, no matter your skin color, race, language, hair or religion”.
Now I
am currently a volunteer in the shelter.
