written by: Pirrah Phuti
“The darkest hour is just before the dawn.” — Thomas Fuller
The initial beam of light of dawn Sunlight rays of morning have a Magnificent and Glorious beauty. A moment when the optimism of an unblemished day finally triumphs over the darkness, which is so thick and crushing. This shift, from hopelessness to optimism, is what my name “Pirrah Phuti” represents. When night turns to morning and the first rays of sunlight appear in a world that was previously dark, it is known as Pirrah Phuti in my Sindhi language. Every day, while I consider my life’s journey and have this symbolism close at hand.
I am the eldest daughter in a family from Ketibunder, a small village nestled near the sea. Education is considered a luxury in this town and the idea of teaching a female is frequently resisted which not contemptuously. Traditions are strong there and girls are exclusively thought to be meant for marriage and motherhood. However, the first person in my village to question these conventions was my father, a teacher who had experienced great adversity as a child. My father placed a high value on education even though they were eight brothers and one sister in his family with limited resources and even hardly any possibilities. He campaigned tenaciously for education because he thought it could end the cycle of ignorance and poverty. When I was born then my father was already a teacher in the village and his resolve was to give me an education, no matter the cost. This was a promise he made which even if it meant facing society’s judgment. My early years were spent in a village where girls were discouraged from seeking an education. The thought of a girl studying was seen as a grave sin and a betrayal of tradition.
But my dad didn’t back down. Since there were no amenities close to me, I was sent to a school farther away for middle school after finishing my primary education in the village. It was my only way forward, although the journey was lengthy and frequently lonely. My father bravely decided to send me to high school in Thatta which is the district headquarters, after I finished the eighth grade. We had to deal with our community’s harsh judgments and protests in addition to the difficulty of living away from home. My village’s residents questioned to my family’s honor and called me derogatory names in whispers behind to my back them, I represented revolt with villagers and community. Things became even harsher when my father rented a modest home in Thatta for us to live. Our living circumstances could only be characterized as severe. There was no utilities facilities and no running water
available in the house. We cooked over an open flame, got water by approach many ways and fought to survive. However, my father was unfazed by all of this. He never wavered in his belief in my studies.
My father was falsely accused during this period, and a case was brought against him by villagers and communities they did innumerable just to break off us from our goal they tried many things in different ways they threat us whenever I go to village for vacations they looked at me as if I had committed a sin.
After completing my matriculation, I returned to my village and the next stage of my journey began heading to Thatta for college. We settled there and I started attending college regularly. Everything seemed to be going well, but my father’s case was still ongoing. He had to attend court hearings and in November 2016 which is a decision was made against him and he was sentenced to three years in prison. This was a devastating blow for our family. Our dreams were shattered and we had to return to the village. The emotional and financial strain was overwhelming and I felt as though everything had come to an end. Unexpectedly, I couldn’t even visit my father in jail as in our society, girls are not allowed to do so.
Three months later, my father was granted bail and returned home whichever completely broken and weakened by his time in prison. New challenges emerged and our financial situation worsened. We had sold everything in this tough period our livestock, savings and even gold items. My father’s salary was suspended for 13 months, leaving us in a dire state. Despite all of this, my father never lost hope. He encouraged me to continue my studies and filled out my first-year exam form as the exams approached.
However, few days before my exams and the villagers threatened my father that if she went to take her exams then they would revoke my father’s bail, as they were the primary holders of it because they were also warrantor. As a result, I was unable to sit for my exams. Seeing the tears in my father’s eyes, I told him, “You are more important than my education.” In that moment, I chose my father’s well-being over my own dreams, realizing that his sacrifices were far greater than any exam or degree.
During those difficult times, I felt like giving up and forgot about my dreams. But deep inside was still a hope. My village was far from any educational opportunities, but there was an environment where even opening a book was considered as sin for women. Yet, even there I used to read books every day. Slowly, contrivance began to improve. My father’s salary was reinstated the following year.
Then, my father made an unexpected decision he wanted me to appear for both my first year and second-year exams together. This news was a surprise to me then I started preparing for the exams. My village “Keti Bunder” was far from Thatta where the exams were held where I had to travel regularly. I would wake up at 4 a.m. to reach out due to long distance. I completed 14 papers in total and in the end which I cleared my college exams with good marks.
The next big challenge was yet to come another battle that I had to fight, another chain to break. The fight wasn’t over. This time, it was about my graduation. My father and I decided that I should continue my education in Karachi and live in a hostel. We were a huge challenge, especially as a girl. How could I live in a hostel? How could I study at a university?
In 2019, we secretly left our village, I and my father to pursue this dream. However, we didn’t realize how harsh things would become back home. The villagers became furious and threatened my siblings and my mom. They manipulated my mother, causing her to stand against us. They demanded we return to the village, but we didn’t. We had to rent a house urgently and my mother and siblings joined us in Karachi. I still remember the painful moments when I saw my mother which I felt like I was being blamed for a great sin.
After settling in Karachi, I get admission in Jinnah University for Women in the biotechnology department, marking the beginning of a new chapter in my education. The day I held my bag for the first time for another chapter the first day of my university, it felt like the most exciting moment of my life. It was more than just a bag; it was a symbol of freedom and hope. I felt like it was flying to me, stepping into a new world, one that would open many doors for me and my sibling, I hoped for many other girls like me. I knew that this journey wouldn’t be easy. I would face challenges and objections especially from my village where conservative thoughts still held sway. But we decided to cut off all contact with them, as we knew they would never understand.
In our society, the barriers for girls are strong, and their futures are often limited by outdated traditions. In that harsh society, women are often seen as property, valued only for marriage and their role in the household. Education is rarely seen as important for girls and many dreams are crushed before they could even take flight.
But even in the face of all these obstacles, I chose to move forward. I knew that by pursuing my education, I was not just fighting for my own future, but for the future of other girls who still had dreams but lacked the support to chase them. The road ahead would be difficult, but I was determined to break through the barriers and open doors that had once been closed. My journey was not just mine, it was a step toward changing the future for all the girls in my village and beyond.
In my new journey, I faced many challenges, including health and financial issues. There were semesters when I couldn’t appear for exams because I couldn’t afford the fees. Then, the COVID pandemic hit the world and I became seriously ill. I couldn’t study or eat and I suffered from a severe cough. I took a COVID test, but the result was negative. After further tests, I was diagnosed with an enlarged spleen.
In June 2022, during my third year, I went to university to submit my final exam form. When I returned home, I started feeling very ill with severe abdominal pain and a high fever. After getting tested, I was diagnosed with abdominal tuberculosis and my weight dropped drastically. This setback was very hard for me and I couldn’t appear for my fifth-semester exams.
A few days later, I tried to return to classes for the next semester, but I could barely walk because my feet were swollen. I decided to take another semester off to fully recover. By 2023, I had regained my strength and returned to my studies with renewed energy. However, health issues continued to challenge me. I faced severe fungal infections and blood deficiencies.
In 2024, I was diagnosed with minor thalassemia due to extremely low iron levels. Throughout this journey, whenever I faced health setbacks, I asked Allah, “Why are these obstacles happening to me? Society is already making it hard for me to achieve my goals, and now my health is holding me back.” But I also reminded myself that everything happens for a reason and perhaps this was a test of my strength.
Through every challenge, I held on to the belief that one day, the darkness would fade and give way to light, just like the first rays of the morning. As I move forward, I carry not only my father’s dreams but also the dreams of every girl who has been told that education is not for her. My journey is not just about breaking my own barriers, but about breaking the chains that hold back many others in a world that says their dreams are too big.
“When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind not with it”. (Henry Ford)
Today, as I continue my education, I carry with me not just my personal struggles, but the stories of countless others who have faced similar challenges. I will not let these struggles define me. Instead, I will use them to push me forward. I rise, I hope to be a source of hope for other girls.
The fight is far from over. The road ahead will be tough, but as my father always said, “Your journey is not just for you and it is for the future of many girls who will follow in your footsteps”.
I am Pirrah Phuti, and my fight continues. Just like the dawn follows the darkest night, I know my journey will lead to a brighter future. As I walk this path, I will carry the light of hope for others to follow.
Who dare to our dream?
I have not yet reached my destination; I still need to dive into the ocean of knowledge and measure its depth. So far, I have only obtained a single drop from that ocean of knowledge, which is not enough to quench my thirst for education. I want to stand with the women in this world who are still engulfed in darkness. I aspire for my life to be entirely devoted to others to others so that I can do everything for them. My journey will initial elevated from my own home, the village and eventually my community.
Author email adress: pi
rrahphuti9@gmail.com