I grew up in a small rural village where every day looked almost exactly the same. There wasn’t much time to be a child. We woke up at six every morning to prepare breakfast and clean the house before heading out to work in the fields. We spent hours under the scorching sun until midday, and when we came home, there was still more work waiting for us. We gathered fodder, prepared feed for the sheep, looked after the livestock, and finished the household chores. By the time night came, we went to bed exhausted, knowing we would wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
In the middle of all that hard work, there was one thing I never had: the chance to go to school. I never sat in a classroom or learned how to read and write. Then, when I was only thirteen years old, I was married. A year later, I became a mother. As the years passed, I had more children, more responsibilities, and even less time to think about myself.
Being unable to read or write made everyday life much harder. I couldn’t help my children with their homework, read signs, or understand written instructions. Many times, I felt frustrated and helpless. Deep down, I believed I had missed my chance forever. I often wondered, Could someone my age really learn? Was it simply too late for me? Everything changed when I heard about the literacy program run by Masarat Foundation.
At first, I was nervous, but from the very first day, the teachers made me feel welcome. They were patient, encouraging, and never made any of us feel embarrassed for not knowing something. They explained everything step by step, celebrated every small achievement, and gave us the confidence to keep going. Slowly, the fear disappeared, and I realized I was capable of learning after all.
Today, I am proud of how far I have come. I am no longer the woman who believed education was out of reach. Instead, I have discovered a love of learning and a determination to keep going. I want to continue my education and make up for the opportunities I missed as a child. Learning to read and write has given me something I never thought I would have again: hope for the future.