Malala Yousafzai says she yearns to be ‘normal,’ despite fame — and now Nobel
Malala Yousafzai says she yearns to be ‘normal,’ despite fame — and now Nobel
(about 11 hours later)
When the world learned Thursday that Malala Yousafzai had become the youngest Nobel Prize winner in history, the 17-year-old was right where she belonged: in school.
When the world learned that Malala Yousafzai had become the youngest Nobel Peace Prize winner in history, the 17-year-old was right where she belonged: in school.
The young advocate for female education has said she longs to be seen by classmates at her private girls high school in Birmingham, England, as a “normal girl” since surviving Taliban bullets two years ago. That has proved next to impossible amid growing international acclaim, and the new honor is a stratospheric fame-enhancer.
The young advocate for female education has said she wants to be seen by classmates at her private girls high school in Birmingham, England, as a “normal girl” since surviving Taliban bullets two years ago. But normalcy has proven next to impossible amid growing international acclaim, and the new honor is a stratospheric fame-enhancer.
Even so, Yousafzai, who was in chemistry class, made the global media wait to hear her first statement until “after school,” as her organization, the Malala Fund, tweeted.
Yousafzai, who was in chemistry class when the announcement came Friday, made the global media wait to hear her first comments until “after school,” as her organization, the Malala Fund, tweeted.
Life irrevocably changed for Yousafzai around age 11, when she began advocating for educating girls in Pakistan’s religiously conservative Swat Valley, whose inhabitants initially welcomed the imposition of harsh Islamic Sharia law when the Pakistani Taliban controlled the region from 2007 to 2009. When the extremists shut down girls schools, including the one founded by Yousafzai’s father, the youngster used a BBC Urdu-language blog to anonymously protest.
Life changed irrevocably for Yousafzai at around age 11, when she began anonymously blogging in support of educating girls in Pakistan’s religiously conservative Swat Valley while the Pakistani Taliban controlled the region from 2007 to 2009.
The army eventually routed the Pakistani Taliban from Swat, and Yousafzai’s identity became known. She was applauded in progressive quarters as a hero and won honors from the government, which was then ruled by a secular party. Many Pakistanis embraced the young activist, but others — some swayed by conservative Muslim clerics — raised alarm about her liberalizing influence.
The youngster’s outspokenness collided not only with the strict sharia law imposed by mullahs but also with widespread Pakistani social and religious mores, particularly in rural areas, that can stifle girls’ education, marry them off at an early age and keep them secluded in their homes.
The exposure put her life at risk — she openly traveled to and from the Khushal Girls School and College that her father founded. It was on an open-backed school bus — more of a pickup truck — that she and two other classmates were shot by Taliban gunmen on Oct. 9, 2012.
Such tension between secular and religious rules remains barely muted in Pakistan. Officials of a Pakistani private school association have called Yousafzai a tool of the West whose views cloud the minds of Muslims. The group reiterated a ban on her autobiography, “I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban,” in its 40,000 member schools.
The shooting brought global condemnation. Doctors’ efforts to save Yousafzai’s life were followed round the clock in Pakistan and beyond. As her celebrity grew, her name was put forward last year for the Nobel Peace Prize. But the Nobel committee decided not to award it then, after gingerly weighing the impact of awarding the prize to the teenager.
On Friday, in Yousafzai’s home town of Mingora, several residents spoke proudly of how the Nobel win could transform the Swat district’s image to a peaceful one — but others were subdued, even fearful.
“We waited,” Geir Lundestad, director of the Norwegian Nobel Institute, said in a video interview posted on the official Nobel Prize YouTube Channel. “The committee took its time. We have seen her in action throughout the world. And the committee has been remarkably impressed how she has been able, despite her young age, to speak up and have a tremendous impact.”
“Some people are silent, as they don’t like her and her father, but others are quiet due to the possible threat from the militants,” said Aftab Ali, a 41-year-old businessman.
He added: “We are very optimistic that this will work out well,” he added. “But of course, it’s true, she’s a girl, she’s 17 years old and this will dramatically change her life, and we hope for the better.”
After the Pakistani army routed the Taliban from Swat, Yousafzai’s identity became known. Wide media exposure put her life at risk; she openly traveled to and from the Khushal Girls School and College that her father founded. Going home after class on Oct. 9, 2012, she and two classmates were shot by a Taliban gunman.
Yousafzai already appears with world leaders, travels to conflict zones, and has been embraced by Hollywood stars. Like rock stars, she is instantly recognizable by one name.
The attack raised a groundswell of admiration for her sacrifice. As her celebrity grew, her name was put forward last year for the Nobel Peace Prize. But the Nobel committee decided not to award it then, after weighing the impact of the prize on a teenager.
Average teenager? Hardly. She spent her 16th birthday addressing the United Nations, and her 17th in Nigeria “to show solidarity” with the schoolgirls abducted earlier in the year by Boko Haram militants.
“The committee took its time,” Geir Lundestad, director of the Norwegian Nobel Institute, said in a video interview posted on the official Nobel Prize YouTube Channel. “And the committee has been remarkably impressed.
But in interviews, and in her autobiography, she seems to yearn for keeping a hold on the teenage Malala — the girl who was a fan of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez in Pakistan, before her life in exile, which she and her family chose in part because they feared she would be attacked again at home.
“But of course, it’s true, she’s a girl, she’s 17 years old,” he added, “and this will dramatically change her life, and we hope for the better.”
Asked about one of the hardest things about adapting to life in England, she told the BBC last year: “Here they considered me a good girl, the girl who stood up for children’s rights, and the girl who was shot by the Taliban. They never look at me as Malala, as their friend, and as a normal girl,” she said. “In Pakistan I was just Malala, simply Malala.”
Yousafzai has been embraced by Hollywood and even appeared on “The Daily Show.” Like pop stars, she is instantly recognizable by one name — Malala.
In her book, “I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and was Shot by the Taliban,” Yousafzai wrote that she still hopes to live in Pakistan, where “I dream that one day I will be an influential politician.”
Average teenager? Hardly. She spent her 16th birthday addressing the United Nations and her 17th in Nigeria “to show solidarity” with the schoolgirls abducted earlier in the year by Boko Haram militants.
But that is far too risky now, she says. Maulana Fazlullah, who headed the Swat Taliban during its reign of terror in the picturesque valley, has ascended to become head of the national Pakistani Taliban, which has asserted its goal of killing Yousafzai if it gets the chance.
Yet she seems to yearn for keeping a hold on the teenage Malala — the girl who was a fan of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez in Pakistan before her exile, which she and her family chose in part because they feared she would be attacked again at home.
And in her home country, not everyone celebrates the young activist. Within days of the assassination attempt, talk among some Pakistanis and posts on social media began to implicate the United States in the shooting and argue that it actually never happened.
She is not universally celebrated in Pakistan. Some claimed after her shooting that it was all a “drama” — a common Pakistani term for a hoax — even though the Taliban immediately asserted responsibility for the shooting.
Some claimed it was all a “drama” — a common Pakistani term for a hoax — although one had to strain to see the point of such dark stagecraft. A prominent conspiracy theory held that the United States or other outside forces invented the hit to make Muslims look bad — even though the Taliban immediately asserted responsibility. The extremists said she deserved death for her support of President Obama, which they called an “obscenity.”
“Her new life continues to divide Pakistani public opinion,” reporter Saim Saeed wrote in Pakistan’s English-language Express Tribune on Friday. “Some see her position as Western stooge only cemented; her well-wishers see her as a powerful force to both combat religious extremism as well as an advocate for women’s rights.”
“Her new life continues to divide Pakistani public opinion. Some see her position as Western stooge only cemented; her well-wishers see her as a powerful force to both combat religious extremism as well as an advocate for women’s rights — on a global stage,” reporter Saim Saeed wrote in Pakistan’s English-language Express Tribune on Thursday.
The only previous Nobel Prize winner in Pakistan also divided the public. Religious prejudices have overshadowed the country’s 1979 winner, nuclear scientist Abdus Salam, whose achievement is all but ignored because he was an Ahmadi, a member of a minority sect that Pakistan’s constitution has decreed not to be Muslim.
The Nobel prize, while a source of pride for Pakistanis, has also divided them in the past. Religious prejudices have overshadowed the country’s only other winner, nuclear scientist Abdus Salam, whose 1979 achievement is all but ignored. He was an Ahmadi, a follower of a minority sect that Pakistan’s constitution has decreed not to be Muslim, and whose members are often the targets of militant attacks.
Asked about the hardest part of adapting to life in England, where she has lived for two years with her two brothers and parents, Yousafzai told the BBC last year: “Here they considered me a good girl, the girl who stood up for children’s rights, and the girl who was shot by the Taliban. They never look at me as Malala, as their friend, and as a normal girl,” she said.
Despite homesickness, Yousafzai has said she has adjusted somewhat to exile. After living with her parents and two brothers in Birmingham for the past two years, Britain’s second biggest city “has started to feel like home,” she wrote in her book, published in July.
“So much has changed,” she wrote in a new preface to her 2013 book. “But really I am the same old Malala who went to school in Swat. My life has changed, but I have not.”
“I am a refugee,” she wrote in the preface. “As my father says, we might be the world’s best-treated refugees, in a nice house with everything we need, but we still yearn for our homeland. So much has changed this past year, but really I am the same old Malala who went to school in Swat. My life has changed, but I have not.”
The teen said she hates getting up in the morning, leaves clothes around the house and fights with her brother Atal over who gets to use the iPod.
The teen said she hates getting up in the morning, leaves clothes around the house, and fights with her brother Atal over who gets to use the iPod. Her mother is attending a language center five days a week and taking courses to learn how to read and write. Her father is the education attaché for the Pakistan consulate in Birmingham and a U.N. adviser on global education.
“I’m very busy with school and events,” she said, “but I have made friends and we chat in our breaks and lunchtime. They like to talk about sport, while I like reading Time and the Economist.”
Now, more than ever, Yousafzai will need to balance the earnestness of her cause against her quest for normalcy.
Now, more than ever, Yousafzai will need to balance the earnestness of her cause against her quest for normalcy.
In August, she told the Guardian newspaper that she only liked missing class if it would “bring real change.”
In August, she told the Guardian newspaper that she liked missing class only if it would “bring real change.”
On Thursday, even after being informed in class about her Nobel win, she stayed in school, going on to physics and English classes. Although her mark on history will be indelible — and possibly bring real change — she later told reporters, “I considered it as a normal day.”
On Friday, even after being informed in class about her Nobel win, she stayed in school, going on to physics and English classes. Although her mark on history will be indelible — and possibly bring real change — she later told reporters, “I considered it as a normal day.”
