I don’t want to preface this story too much because, as good stories do, this one speaks for itself. I’ll only write that Asma, one of the students currently in our tutorial program, was asked, “Tell a story about yourself by describing an item from your childhood or everyday life… The object you write about could be something small that played a part in a larger event, or it could be something that you had for years.”
Here is her story.
The Memory Of a Cup
I always have a good memory and sometimes a little sadness, when I remember the cup which I have placed in a cupboard in our guest room. Whenever I look at the golden colored cup, which I can carry easily with both hands, I am reminded of the day when I got it. During that time we used to live in Haripur, a small city of Pakistan.
I got this cup in my school when I was almost 6 years old, my teacher chose me among the other students to give a speech in English on the occasion of Pakistan’s Independence Day. I practiced and memorized my one page speech for four days. Whenever I practiced I was making mistakes and I was not sure that I would be able to do it as I wanted. My parents and my teacher encouraged me and were saying “do more practice as you can, and don’t worry you will be fine.”
Finally, the day of my speech arrived, and I was so nervous when the teacher announced my name to come on the stage. When I climbed the stairs and I reached the stage and stood up behind the speech table, I couldn’t see the people because the table was taller than my height. Then my teacher brought a chair and told me to stand up on it. When I stood up and saw all the students, teachers and principal, everybody was looking at me and waiting for my speech. I was nervous and quiet for a few seconds, then I heard my teacher’s voice calling me silently in Urdu “Asma shoro karo, tum bohot achha kar sakti ho”, Asma start, you can do it very well. Then I started my speech and it was the first speech of my life in front of many people. When I finished the speech, everybody clapped for me, the teachers and the principle kissed my face and the principal gave me the cup. I did not expect to earn a cup because I was the only Afghan among many Pakistani students. Therefore, I still carry the cup with a good feeling of happiness and pride.
However, when I think about the time when my family came back to Afghanistan and I returned to school there, I realized the distinction between my country in a post conflict situation and Pakistan, in terms of teacher’s attitude, behavior, and how they approach the students. In Afghanistan most of the teachers do not encourage the students and some of them do not let the students ask questions in the class. For instance, I cannot forget the day when I was in the 8th grade in Afghanistan. One of my classmates asked the chemistry teacher a question about the lesson. She requested the teacher to explain, then the teacher said, “Girl do you have a mind? Or maybe you are foolish that you cannot understand the lesson. Pay attention and don’t ask me anymore questions.”After that time I did not dare to ask the teachers any questions even if I didn’t understand the lesson. There is no motivation and encouragement in most of the schools.
Indeed, whenever I look at the cup I think about my Pakistani teachers and how much they encouraged me. I get hopeful and I say to myself that I was able to give speech in front of people when I was much younger than now. I have to try to develop and progress although I am in a different and difficult situation, but I have the ability, the cup tells me that I have the ability. I should not be disappointed, although sometimes it hurts me when I think about some of my teachers in Afghanistan. So I carry the cup with both my good feelings and a little sadness.