On July 8th of this year, Abdul Sattar Edhi passed away. For all Pakistanis, the loss of this humanitarian was deeply upsetting, but also a stark reminder of how untimely events can be. In the wake of violence and unrest in the sociopolitical atmosphere of Pakistan, Edhi stood apart because of his willingness to help anyone and everyone in need. The Edhi Foundation does more than run the world’s largest ambulance service in Pakistan. It does more than fight the poverty in Pakistan. I had the privilege of discovering this truth through a writing workshop I led at a summer camp in Karachi last week.

I remember calling my cousin the night before the workshop, freaking out after I had learned that the majority of my lesson would have to be taught in urdu. I spoke basic urdu, but the unavoidable American accent and the occasional pauses when searching for words made it nerve wracking to even communicate with family. How was I going to stand up in front of a group of girls in a professional setting to do this?

Recommended for you

3 Valuable Lessons Rupi Kaur's Poetry Taught Me

5 Heroic Women History Has Forgotten

The morning of the lesson, during my tour of the school, a wave of nostalgia hit me. Four years ago, I had stepped into another all girls setting in Karachi to teach conversational english. I remember how the organization’s president asked me to speak only in english when teaching, and how that remained impossible in order to get my points across during lessons. I thought about how this might be similar. I had a lesson plan for this Edhi-themed summer camp, and if my students were anything like my girls at Kashana, everything would sort itself out.

The first and last bit of nervousness hit me when I apprehensively stepped into the classroom. After the girls greeted me with a salam in unison, I was instantly at ease. I cherished the way they pronounced, Miss Rukhsar perfectly, with the “kh” sounding like urdu letters instead of english ones. Once we had delved into the heart of the lesson, I introduced the concept of an acrostic poem. An acrostic poem is when you spell a word vertically, and for each letter in the word, you create a line of poetry. We tried a sample one with a girl’s name and then moved onto “EDHI”.

Though all the instructions were verbally delivered in urdu, the poetry itself was written in english. How did that happen? I had the girls collectively brainstorm ideas about Edhi (in urdu), what they knew about him, and how he had been impactful. The girls immediately mentioned that he was helpful, and we filled in that line. After that, a girl mentioned that Edhi never differentiated people by their race, religion, sex, etc. I taught them the word discrimination, and filled in a line, “Did not discriminate.” We continued to discuss his qualities, and one of the teachers spectating in the room contributed the word ‘empathetic’, which I then translated and explained to the girls. Another girl had mentioned that he was one of a kind, unique, and able to support himself. We discussed the word ‘independent’ and agreed to fill the last line in with it.

E: Empathetic and excellent

D: Did not discriminate

H: Helpful

I: Independent

The real take away came to me when I asked them to write their own poems about how they have been helpful in the past. When I returned home with a stack of their poems in my hand, my mom and I leafed through them, smiling at the honest nature of these girls. My faith is restored in moments like these: reading about girls who help carry their neighbors’ groceries home, girls who help their friends study for tests, girls who provide water to anyone who’s thirsty, girls who refuse to see differences between people when coming to their aid.

In the light of recent events such as Qandeel Baloch’s death, Pakistan has been torn between people who see the blatant problem in the murder of someone, while others have a film over their eyes, placing their own beliefs in the way of someone else’s safety. Qandeel Baloch, a controversial Pakistani celebrity, had been strangled to death by her own brother, who did this “to save his family’s honor”. Though there are people who strangely find happiness in her death because of their disapproval for her lifestyle, these students remind me that there are people who think otherwise.

The beauty of having a summer camp themed after Edhi, lies in the fact that Edhi himself was a strong contrast to other parts of Pakistan that reveal flawed realities. Though Pakistanis are torn over how to respond and react to other events, the death of Edhi has been a powerful reminder to uphold his lifestyle. The country was unified in appreciating him and lamenting over the loss of such a noble person. Humbleness and the will to help others were driving factors in building such a beautiful foundation. Edhi upheld these values consistently, which is why he was able to help so many people. If we were to remind ourselves of exemplary people like this when looking forward, we might be able to put aside our personal differences to coexist.

Photo Credit: Zindagi Trust https://www.facebook.com/zindagitrust/