In Pakistan, bringing education to Afghan refugees

Schools seeking to enroll girls confront poverty, protective parents

(Ghazala Mehmood photo)

Children at the morning assembly at Barakat Primary School in Attock, Pakistan.

Ghazala Mehmood is a Cambridge resident who serves on the board of Barakat Inc., a Cambridge-based nonprofit whose mission is to improve the well-being of marginalized groups (particularly women) in South and Central Asia by increasing access to quality education and a healthy environment. Ghazala recently returned from Attock, Pakistan where Barakat operates three schools for Afghan refugees.

By Ghazala Mehmood

ATTOCK, Pakistan -- As I got closer to the school, voices of children filled the air. I saw children gathered in the small front yard rushing to align themselves in straight rows. Amazingly, by the time the bell rang the huge random crowd transformed into neatly structured rows. The principal of the school told me that every morning all the students gather for an assembly before they start their school day. The assembly starts with students reciting a passage from the Koran and ends with a small prayer thanking God for the opportunity to get an education.

This is Barakat Primary School. I traveled to Pakistan to visit this and two other schools that Barakat operates for Attock's Afghan refugee community. The refugee families here fled Afghanistan after the Soviet invasion in 1979 and throughout the civil war that followed. Since the early 1980s, approximately 3 million Afghan refugees have poured into Pakistan. Afghans in Attock represent several ethnic groups, including Turkmen (the majority), Pashtuns and Hazara. Most of the families here earn a modest income by weaving carpets, a traditional job mostly performed by women in their homes.

Girls’ education has always been a real challenge among the Afghan refugee population in Pakistan. Uprooted from their homes and forced into an often-unwelcoming foreign country, most Afghan parents are unusually protective of their girls. To make formal education more palatable to these families, Barakat schools run three-hour evening shifts with an all-female staff and flexible schedule, separate from the regular coeducation day setting. Little by little, the refugee communities' attitude toward our schools is relaxing. But even though the evening school initiative has brought more female students than ever through our doors, many school-aged girls still stay at home.

In Attock, Abdul Rehman, a Turkmen who is Barakat’s Community Liaison, was my guide to the schools and the city. Our first stop was the brightly colored two-story home of Barakat Primary School. The primary school houses 8 different classes in 7 rooms, plus a principal's office. Our three schools in Pakistan serve almost 900 students out of which 40 percent are girls. As in all our schools in Pakistan, there is little space for the children to play; the teachers manage by taking the students to a nearby playground when time permits. Impressively, Barakat staff was coping really well in such a small space and with so few resources.

(Ghazala Mehmood photo)

Barakat students at the Barakat Elementary School’s evening program which is run exclusively for our female students.

Grade 8 is the highest grade offered by our schools. After graduating from Barakat schools, some students continue their education by transferring to the public school system. Since public schools in Pakistan are not free, Barakat will be starting a scholarship program to help more students continue their education. Over the next week, as I observed classes, interviewed teachers and principals, and spoke to students and alumni of Barakat schools, I sought answers to the same questions: What helps our students succeed? And what else can we, on the American side of the organization, provide to improve and grow our impact?

Abdul Rehman guided me through all Attock's Afghan refugee settlements, where I could meet students' families and hear their thoughts about local education. Once Abdul took me to his home in Attock’s little Afghan-town. We had green tea served with colorful treats. Abdul Rehman told me that it is an Afghan custom to welcome all guests with traditional tea and treats. Over the next few days, I experienced this generosity and respect in the homes of many locals. Such benevolence, even under the conditions of oppression and poverty common here, truly touched me. I especially enjoyed my visit to the Afghan market where I caught an unfiltered glimpse of real life in the refugee community: regular people selling and buying groceries, clothes, shoes and jewelry. We stopped here for a lunch of Afghan Pulao (made with rice, meat and vegetables) and lamb kebabs. By the end of the visit, I felt a part of their community.

The Afghans' generosity of spirit seemed especially notable since trust is running thin in northern Pakistan these days. The security and human rights situation here has been disintegrating rapidly since last fall, when Taliban forces seized control of nearby Swat Valley. Over one thousand Pakistani civilians have been brutally murdered, including women executed for violating strict and oppressive religious law. A January 15 Taliban order required all private schools in Swat to close, and now most girls are too afraid even to venture outside their homes. A recent UN report criticized the treatment of Afghan refugees throughout Pakistan, which includes widespread harassment, discrimination, and pressure to pay bribes to local law enforcement. With these menacing forces creeping closer to our school communities in Attock, we need a very good plan to keep our students enrolled, attending, and learning.

(Sumera Seher photo)

A student receiving a gift for her dance performance at the Barakat schools talent show.

By the end of my trip, I had visited about 20 Afghan homes. Since Afghans live within an extended family arrangement, this gave me a chance to talk to not only the parents but also to the grandparents, aunts and uncles of our students. My interviews brought forward a few key insights. First of all, the Afghan refugees in the area are mired in extreme poverty and make a living primarily by weaving carpets. Even though Barakat schools are completely free, some families cannot bear the economic cost of sending their daughters to school rather than work. A second, more troublesome discovery is many parents' belief that education will not likely improve their daughters' lives. One mother told me that learning carpet weaving must be her daughters' priority -- they would be able to help their future husbands by contributing to the household income, with the added benefit of staying indoors at the same time. These answers gave rise to more questions. How can we convince families of the value of education, and bring more female students to our schools?

Our staff here in Boston has been focused on this question ever since. Our first step will be to increase our communication with Afghan parents in Pakistan. We need to educate the parents, along with the students, about the importance of education in a woman’s life. We need to help them see that education is not just a means to getting a good job (which they think is solely a man’s responsibility) but also a tool for empowerment. Every girl who walks into a Barakat school knows that this is a hard-won opportunity for her to get an education. It is our hope that each graduating student will serve as a beacon for younger girls and older women and that we will see them emerge as leaders in their community -- able to voice their opinions and daring to reach further than their predecessors in their quest to realize their own potential.

To learn more about Barakat’s work to improve the lives of women and girls in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India, visit www.barakatworld.org. To find out how to contribute to Passport, please contact the Globe's assistant foreign editor, Kenneth Kaplan, at K_Kaplan@globe.com.