About the Author:
Asma H. Khan is a Nurse working in Karachi, mainly
looking after medical-surgical patients. She holds a diploma in nursing from
Murshid College of Nursing. Currently, she is doing her bachelor’s in nursing
at Aga Khan University and will be completing her program of study at the end of
2026. Her contributions to extracurricular activities are well note like
sports, camps, workshops, and societies, and she enjoys life to the fullest. In her spare time, she likes to write and loves to sleep.
I was born into a place where a girl’s future could be
shaped by circumstances long before she learned to imagine one. As a child, I
did not have the language to describe the forces that limit a girl’s opportunity.
I only knew that some doors seemed to
open naturally for boys while girls often had to ask for permission to approach
them.
I was around seven years, when conflict intensified in
my region, educational opportunities for girls were extremely limited. This was
just like going to school and coming back quickly and doing nothing. I noticed that many factors influence this
condition including patriarchy distance, poverty, security concerns,
availability of teachers, transportation, and sociocultural expectations could
all influence whether a girl entered school and more importantly whether she
was able to remain there.
This condition was not only about me, but I realised
that World bank has shared some data which also reflects similar ideation or
experiences. Patriarchy and poor financial conditions make a connection, and
the safety of girls become someone else’s decision. Sociocultural beliefs have
been identified as important barriers to girls’ education, with rural girls
facing particularly significant disadvantages in access and continuation. This
is also rooted in socio demographics of our context and impact more than it
feels.
With my own experience and after reading all this
information, I realised there is a term which clearly explains condition of
girls like me and many other. The term is called structural inequality,
and I simply understand that the girls around me were leaving school just
because of this power-oriented phenomenon. Years later I felt this is not me;
this is not the girls; this is not the one person who is doing this; it is a
whole system.
When Education Becomes a Privilege
Before my own educational journey began, I witnessed
how differently education could be valued for boys and girls. Some girls were
not enrolled in school at all. During periods of crisis access to food and
other forms of assistance could also influence school attendance. For some
families, education was therefore intertwined with survival rather than
understood as an unconditional right.
Many girls dreamt of learning, but their education
ended after primary school because the next school was too far away
transportation was unavailable, or their families believed that further
education was unnecessary for a girl. I repeatedly heard a message that would
follow me throughout my childhood:
“Bas De! Da
Der Day Ta Yawa Jenai ae ...” (translation urdu: buhat hua / ye kafi hai – tum
ek larki ho; translation english: this is enough! you are a girl).”
At that age I did not understand why being a girl
should determine how far I could study I only knew that I wanted to continue.
Looking back through the lens of my nursing education, I now understand that
education is much more than academic achievement. It can influence health
literacy, confidence, autonomy, economic opportunity, and the ability to make
informed decisions. The World Health Organization recognizes education, income,
social position, gender, living conditions, and access to resources as important
social determinants of health. These conditions influence health long before a
person enters a hospital. This realization changed the way I understood my childhood.
What I once saw simply as “girls not being allowed to study” was part of a much
larger relationship among gender, education, poverty, social power, and patriarchy
The Health Consequences of Being Denied a Voice
The consequences of limited educational opportunities
extended beyond the classroom. In the community where I grew up, many women had
limited opportunities to become financially independent. Women’s life could be
strongly influenced by decisions that are made by their man in charges like fathers,
brothers, sons or husbands. This is because of forced and early marriages,
or/and limited decision-making power in result of restricted mobility, gender
norms, family pressures. This all could leave a woman or girl dependent on
others for basic needs, decision making and access to services. Trust me! Even
none of us wouldn’t like someone else to do or decide on our behalf. Still, we
face alot of difficulties in making it possible.
What else I noticed was forms of violence in my
surrounds. It was so normalized rather than openly challenged, in such a way
that women couldn’t say anything to their families. In some situations, women
appeared to tolerate violence because of financial dependence, social pressure,
or fear of losing family support. As a child, I did not have the concepts to
understand these experiences. Today, I recognize that gender inequality is not
only a social issue it is also a health issue. When I became a nurse and joined
one of the prestigious nursing schools in the country and become independent. I
learnt through research that gender norms, unequal power, restrictions on
mobility, limited financial autonomy, lower literacy, and reduced
decision-making power can create barriers to health information and healthcare
access and can adversely affect the health of women and girls.
This helped me reinterpret
what I had witnessed!!!
Limited educational opportunities may also restrict a
woman’s ability to access health information, participate in decisions, and
seek care independently. Similarly, restricted mobility can make it difficult
to reach healthcare services, while limited knowledge about health can delay
recognition of problems and timely care. The connection became clearer to me as
I progressed through nursing education. What I had once understood as separate
social problems began to appear interconnected: education could influence
autonomy, autonomy could influence health decisions, and social and economic
circumstances could influence whether healthcare was accessible in the first
place.
Healthcare Was Another Silent Crisis
Healthcare access in my community was another
challenge. There were few trained female healthcare professionals from the
area, and cultural expectations could make it difficult for some women to seek
care from male healthcare providers. For women living far from major healthcare
facilities, distance and transportation could become critical barriers,
particularly during pregnancy and childbirth. These were not simply stories about hospitals
being far away. They were stories about how geography, gender, education,
poverty, transportation, and decision-making power could interact to influence
whether a woman received timely care. Pakistan’s maternal health situation
during the period in which I was growing up provides an important national
context. The Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey estimated a maternal
mortality ratio of approximately 276 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births,
with a substantially higher estimate in rural areas than in urban areas
(National Institute of Population Studies [NIPS] & Macro International
Inc., 2008). As a child, I could not interpret these experiences statistically.
I was able to do when I saw others going through this during my nursing journey
or my clinical practice with my teachers in community.
I simply knew that sometimes women needed help and
help was far away. Today as a nurse, I understand that health outcomes are
often shaped long before a patient reaches a healthcare facility. This is one
of the most important lessons my journey has taught me Health does not begin at
the hospital door It begins in the home in the school a child is allowed to
attend in the road she is able to travel in the information she receives in the
resources available to her family, and in whether she has the power to make
decisions about her own life.
When Conflict Entered Childhood
Then conflict became part of my childhood I remember
fighter jets overhead and explosions that shook the ground. I remember people
hiding underground and villages being evacuated. I remember going to a mosque
to collect pages of the Quran and seeing blood and human remains scattered
across the floor. These are not memories- I learned from a textbook; they are
memories I lived. Families were forced to leave their homes, pregnant women
gave birth while displaced, babies died, elderly women were carried on people’s
shoulders. Some people were left behind because vehicles could not reach them. Eventually
my family also had to leave our village. We lived in camps where tents replaced
homes and proper sanitation facilities was not available for us. Where limited food was distributed, making
survival a huge issue. Eventually we
moved to Karachi. The geography changed but the fears did not immediately
disappear. I carried memories of explosions, blood, displacement, and loss with
me. For some time, nightmares continued to bring those experiences back. Yet something else began to develop alongside
the fear and that is hope.
The Question That Would Not Leave Me
After moving to
Karachi, I began seeing girls going to school. They wore clean uniforms. They
carried books. They walked confidently toward classrooms. To many people, this
was ordinary, to me it was extraordinary I remember watching them and wondering.
Why can they go to school when I cannot? That question became personal.
My educational journey was not simply a process of
obtaining certificates. It became an act of persistence against expectations
that had been placed on me. After matriculation, I was again expected to stop.
I continued to insist on my education, secured admission to the eleventh grade,
and completed my intermediate education.
Each academic milestone therefore represented more than a grade It
represented another barrier crossed. Looking back, I realize that my education
changed not only what I knew but also what I believed was possible education
gave me language for questions I had carried since childhood.
My Entery into Nursing!
My entry into nursing gave me a new framework for
understanding my life and reflect on traumas of my own childhood. I began to see patterns. I learned that health
is influenced not only by disease and treatment but also by the conditions in
which people are born, grow, live, work, and age. Who considers these
conditions as social determinants of health and emphasizes their role in
creating health inequities. Suddenly,
many experiences from my childhood had a different meaning. The girl who could
not travel to school was experiencing a problem of access. The woman who could
not independently seek healthcare was experiencing a problem of autonomy and
gender inequality. The family living far from a hospital was experiencing a
problem of geographic access. The child displaced by conflict was experiencing
disruption to safety, education, housing, and social support. I began to
understand that these were not isolated problems. They were interconnected and
now I am ready to conquer them and help others to conquer.
From personal experience to purpose: Now what is next?
These experiences
have taught me that personal experience can become the beginning of scholarly
inquiry. However, personal experience alone is not enough, and it requires more
connections in others life as well. This will give a perspective and make you
stronger in your professional and personal life. As a nurse and emerging
scholar, I have learned that observations must be examined critically,
supported by evidence, and understood within a broader social and scientific
context. Health inequities require more than individual solutions; they require
attention to the social and structural conditions that shape people’s
opportunities and choices. That is why I have become a strong advocate of
gender equality, women and girls’ education, skill building and improving men’s
perspectives towards supporting women in my context.
My childhood therefore does not give me all
the answers. It gives me the questions that I want to keep asking. And yes, I
will continue to ask, continue to bother and continue to explore.....

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