M


alala Yousafzai, the educational campaigner from Swat Valley, Pakistan, came to public attention by writing for


BBC Urdu about life under the Taliban. Using the pen name ‘Gul Makai’, she often spoke about her family’s fight for girls’ education in her community. In October 2012, Malala was targeted by the


Taliban and shot in the head as she was returning from school on a bus. She miraculously survived and continues her campaign for education. In recognition of her courage and advocacy,


My reading goal reading aloud.


Malala was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2014, becoming the youngest ever recipient at just seventeen years of age. She was also honoured with the National Peace Prize in Pakistan in 2011 and the International Children’s Peace Prize in 2013, and she was shortlisted for Time Magazine Person of the Year. Malala continues to champion universal access to education through the Malala Fund, a non- profit organisation investing in community-led education programmes and supporting education advocates around the world.


Pay attention to the rules of punctuation and apply when l Am Malala


One year ago, I left my home for school and never returned. I was shot by a Taliban bullet and was flown out of Pakistan unconscious. Some people say I will never return home but I believe firmly in my heart that I will. To be torn from the country that you love is not something to wish on anyone.


Now, every morning when I open my eyes, I long to see my old room full of my things, my clothes all over the floor and my school prizes on the shelves. Instead I am in a country which is five hours behind my beloved homeland Pakistan and my home in the Swat Valley. But my country is centuries behind this one. Here there is any convenience you can imagine. Water running from every tap, hot or cold as you wish; lights at the flick of a switch, day and night, no need for oil lamps; ovens to cook on that don’t need anyone to go and fetch gas cylinders from the bazaar. Here everything is so modern one can even find food ready cooked in packets.


When I stand in front of my window and look out, I see tall buildings, long roads full of vehicles moving in orderly lines, neat green hedges and lawns, and tidy pavements to walk on. I close my eyes and for a moment I am back in my valley – the high snow-topped mountains, green waving fields and fresh blue rivers – and my heart smiles when it looks at the people of Swat. My mind transports me back to my school and there I am reunited with my friends and teachers. I meet my best friend Moniba and we sit together, talking and joking as if I had never left.


Then I remember I am in Birmingham, England. 10


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