Weight Of Traditions

Kulsoom's fingers trembled as she clutched her books to her chest, the worn pages a symbol of her defiance. Her father, Akmal, stood before her, his eyes a mix of love and frustration. “Kulsoom, my child, why do you insist on this?” Akmal said, his deep voice echoing through their small village home. “You know our ways. Our traditions. A woman's place is by the fire, not in the classroom.”

Kulsoom's heart thudded hard in her chest. So hard that she felt that everyone can hear it, yet her voice came out steady when she said, “Baba, I want to learn. I- I want to make a difference.”

Akmal’s expression faltered for a second, but his words were firm and stern, “You will make a difference as a wife and a mother. Our tribe needs strong women to hold families together.”

Kulsoom felt the familiar knot of desperation. Her father, the respected leader of their village, couldn't see beyond tradition. His customs had always overpowered his love for his family. “But Rashid and Fahad go to school! Why can't I? I promise I'll be good.” Kulsoom's voice was shaky this time. Tears stung her eyes as she tried her utmost to not break down then and there.

Akmal's face darkened, “You're a girl, Kulsoom. I have always given you whatever you asked but you are crossing a line that I. Will. Not. Allow. Fahad and Rashid are my sons, they will provide for the family. Do Not compare yourself to them.”

Kulsoom's brothers were always kind to her and therefore despite not wanting to, she had always felt a little resentment towards her brothers.
Why were their education and futures prioritized over hers?
Why did she have to beg for something even though it was her right?

Her eyes met her mothers who stood silently in the corner, her tears mirroring her daughter's and the familiar expression of helplessness adorned her face. Ever so slowly, as if reluctantly, she shook her head at Kulsoom. Whatever strength Kulsoom had gathered this morning left her and she made her way back to her room, dejected and heartbroken.

Jameela, Kulsoom's mother, had always wanted to empower her daughter and save her daughter from a fate like hers but Akmal's rule was law. She had herself been married off by her father at fifteen and never had the chance to attend school or speak out of line. She was aware when Akmal started listening from his head instead of his heart and therefore knew when keeping quiet would be better. In her heart and mind, she was protecting her daughter from the wrath of her father and not letting her develop more resentment towards him.

——

Kulsoom sat near her bedroom window, staring at the vast fields of and lands of crops outside. That's when she saw a bird on a nearby tree trying to create its nest. The bird would come after every few minutes with different sizes of sticks on its beak. After quite a bunch of sticks were collected, it started arranging them, creating the outline of a nest. However, one of the sticks kept on falling down the tree, slipping from its beak. Kulsoom saw as the bird tried again and again to arrange the stick on the nest but it won't stop falling down. At last, the bird discarded the stick and started making her nest with the new ones. Kulsoom's eyes lit with awe.
What if she had failed a few times in making her father understand her? She can try to achieve her dreams by a different method.

And thus by evening, Kulsoom had gathered herself. She knew she had to continue her education in secret. And then it started, her routine of sneaking out of the house before dawn. She would wrap her books in a cloth and hide them under her burqa. Sometimes, her brothers Fahad and Rashid, who felt trapped between loyalty to their father and admiration of Kulsoom’s courage, would also accompany her to ensure her safety. Rashid always felt that education was a right, not a privilege but he was aware of his father's anger and the responsibility of customs on his shoulders stopped him from interfering more than this. Fahad, the young and reckless one, however supported his sister openly. It was another thing that he was too young for anyone to care about his opinions.

Ms. Hassan, a brave local teacher, would hold clandestine classes in an abandoned hut on the outskirts of the village. Kulsoom would join a handful of other girls, all sharing the same dream. As soon as the sun rose over the village, Kulsoom would hurry back to the hut, heart pounding with fear and excitement. Thus days and weeks passed with the same monotonous yet fulfilling routine for Kulsoom.

——

Everything felt too good to be true and therefore, as if problems knew Kulsoom's address by heart, one day, Kulsoom's father saw her sneaking back into the hut.

Akmal's anger shook the small home. “Kulsoom, you dare disobey me!” He thundered, face red with rage. Kulsoom's small form shook with sobs at her father's scolding, she could almost see her dreams at her feet, shattered, as she stood there staring at the blurred ground. Fahad, who fatefully was accompanying her that morning stood up to his father, “Why can Kulsoom not study? There's nothing wrong in it, Baba.”

“Fahad! You are too young to understand. Don't let me hear you talk back to me again.” Akmal's anger turned on Fahad.

Jameela, who had quickly come from the kitchen upon listening to the loud noises outside, tried to reason with Akmal too. “Our daughter deserves education too, Akmal. It will make her a better wife and mother.”
However, Akmal was undeterred. With a swift and cruel response, he silenced Jameela,
“You were content with your role, Jameela. Why can't Kulsoom be the same?”
Then he turned towards Kulsoom, who stood there, as if waiting for the earth to open up under her feet. “You'll marry soon, and your husband will provide for you. I will not have you shame our family with such notions.”
And with that announcement he returned inside, refusing to listen to anyone leaving Kulsoom kneeling on the ground as her tears fell like rain down the roofs of uncertainty.

——

Weeks passed, and Akmal's resistance only strengthened, fueled by the village elders, who were unaware that their daughters had the same dreams, and saw Kulsoom's education as a threat to their traditional way of life.

However, fate had other plans. Days later a mysterious disease engulfed the village. Now the tradition was whenever someone fell ill, Hakim, a respected villager with knowledge of herbs and traditional remedies, would provide treatment. Hakim's remedies often worked and the village revered him for his expertise. And that's why when Rashid got afflicted, Hakim was called upon. He tried every remedy in his arsenal but Rashid's condition worsened day by day. “Abba, I've never seen anything like this.” Hakim admitted, his usual confident tone laced with worry.

Then a few days later, the village elder’s son who had also been afflicted along with Rashid, died, and Akmal saw how Rashid's fate too got sealed due to primitive healthcare in the village. Desperation crept in as Rashid’s life hung in the balance and Akmal's resistance to outside help began to crumble. Ms. Hassan, the teacher, suggested seeking help from a nearby city hospital.
“They have doctors and machines that can save Rashid.”
Akmal hesitated, fearing the city's ‘foreign’ ways, but Jameela and Kulsoom convinced him to try.

Later that night as Rashid's fever raged on, he was rushed to the city hospital. A female doctor came to attend him. Akmal was doubtful of her capabilities but was too worried for his son's health and therefore kept quiet. She quickly examined Rashid and explained, “He needs immediate attention and medication. Don't worry we'll take care of him. The family can wait outside.”

Hours went by and Akmal saw through the window of his son's hospital room as the doctor and her team worked tirelessly to save Rashid. Their hard work bore fruit and Rashid started recovering, slowly but surely. Akmal felt immense relief. At the same time, he realized that Hakim's traditional knowledge, although valuable, had limitations.

——

“Ms. Hassan,” Akmal said, his voice filled with newfound humility. “Thank you for your advice. If we had not taken Rashid to the hospital-” He sighed painfully. “I-I want to know more about educating my daughter.”
Ms. Hassan smiled, “Education empowers everyone, regardless of gender…”
Akmal listened intently, his mind opening to new possibilities.

The following day, Akmal went to Kulsoom's room. He noticed how she quickly hid her book that she had been studying beneath her pillow upon his arrival. He smiled softly at his daughter.
“Kulsoom, my child, forgive me.” He whispered as he sat near her on the bed. “I see now, it doesn't have to be this way. You can study without any judgment now. Your father is with you.” He said as he put his hand on Kulsoom’s head lovingly. Kulsoom's eyes filled with tears as she sent a silent thanks to God. She hugged her father as tears slowly fell from both their eyes.

——

Akmal soon became an unlikely advocate for education. The villagers upon seeing their leader stand by his daughter and her education, also started sending their daughters to Ms. Hassan’s classes. The village began to transform as education was prioritized. Akmal started looking upon his family with pride.
“I was wrong to resist change,” he admitted, one day to Jameela. “Women’s education has bought us prosperity and hope.” Jameela smiled, her eyes shining for the first time since years.

The village elders who once opposed women's education also started approaching Akmal.
“I see the good it has brought. Forgive us for our ignorance.”
Akmal smiled, and extended his hand, “We are all learning. Let us move forward, together.”

And so the village embarked on a new path, one where tradition and progress worked hand in hand. Kulsoom's story became a beacon, inspiring other villages to follow suit. The weight of tradition was slowly lifted, replaced by the power of education and the courage to change.

~ Tried my hand at story writing! Do tell me how you guys feel about this. ✨💜

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