I am Malala

I am Malala
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  • When our bus called, we ran down the steps. As Usual, the other girls covered their heads and faces before getting on the school bus.
  • We  piled inside, 20 girls and 2 teachers, crammed into 3 rows of benches
  • Is this the Khushal School Bus?
  • Haji Baba road was a jumble of brightly coloured rickshaws, women in flowing robes and men on scooters zigzagging through traffic
  • Who is Malala?
  • Just after we passed the Little Giants Snack Factory and the bend in the road not more than 3 minutes from my house, the van slowed to a halt. It was oddly quiet outside.
  • I don't remember anything after that, but here's the story that's been told to me. Two young men in white robes stepped infront of our truck. 
  • The other young man jumped out onto the tailboard and leaned into the back where we were all sitting. No one said a word, but a few girls looked in my direction. he raised his arm ad pointed at me. Some of the girls screamed and I squeezed Moniba's hand. Who is Malala? I am Malala and this is my story.
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