Malala Yousafzai’s speech began with irony, possibly accidental. Instead of the usual glad-to-be-back, Malala said that it was an honour to be “speaking again after a long time”.
A charismatic Pakistani education activist and schoolgirl in Swat Valley, Malala was shot in the head by the Taliban on October 9, 2012. She was coming home in a school van when masked men stopped the vehicle. They asked the girls to identify Malala who had been vocal about defying the Taliban ban on girls going to school. They then shot Malala, in the head and the neck. They also shot another student in the van who was wounded.
For a while, it had seemed like Malala would become another statistic, even after she arrived at a British hospital specialising in surgery for those injured in combat. Here, her shattered skull was slowly repaired and her hearing was restored while she stayed in a medically-induced coma.
Malala did survive and is now recovering her health and poise under the full glare of celebrityhood and foreign-hand style conspiracy theories. (She was never shot. She was recruited by the CIA when she was 6, ityaadi, more kooky youtube videos, ityaadi). She is currently going to school in Birmingham, UK and still campaigning for the 66 million girls out of school round the world.
In other bizarre things that has happened to the teenager since, her 16th birthday had been declared Malala Day, and she marked the occasion by giving a speech at the UN Headquarters yesterday.
As rousing as the content of her speech was, it was the picture she painted that really struck a chord. Sixteen years old, wearing a pink salwar-kameez, and wrapped in a white shawl that once belonged to Benazir Bhutto. UN leaders behind her, a group of UN Youth Delegates before her (most of whom were paying rapt attention, others were texting furiously). Her family was present too, of course: her dad beaming proudly, her mother wiping away tears until Mrs Ban Ki-Moon held her hand, effectively putting a stop to any further wiping.
There were moments when the audience came together and cheered in unison, while Malala paused. “The terrorists thought they would change my aims and stop my ambitions,” she said, “But nothing changed in my life except this: weakness, fear and hopelessness died. Strength, power and courage was born.” She spoke about just why the Taliban hated education, citing ignorance as the root of their fear: a Talib fears a book so much because he has no idea what’s written in it.
Some bits brought a slight smile to her face. “There was a time when women activists asked men to stand up for their rights. But this time we will do it by ourselves. I am not telling men to step away from speaking for women’s rights, but I am focusing on women to be independent and fight for themselves.” She urged women to pick up their books and pens, because there could be no stronger weapon in this “glorious struggle”. Her voice took on tones of defiance when she swore that the threats of the Taliban (who have issued statements outlining their intent to renew their assassination attempts on her) wouldn’t silence her.
She also spoke about how, even if she had a gun in her hand and the Talib who shot her stood in front of her, she would not shoot him. She said that this was the legacy of change she inherited from Jinnah and Mandela, the spirit of non-violence she learnt from Bacha Khan and Gandhi. That one word about Gandhi, by the way, was the part of her speech Indian newspapers found most worthy of reporting about. Almost every Indian newspaper carried such headlines as “Malala invokes Mahatma Gandhi in her UN speech”. Because, you know, non-violence is ours, and it was obviously Gandhi who taught her everything she knows.
Read full text of speech here or here.
Read Malala’s old blog.