Memoirs of Jumaboy Allaberganov
(Recorded by his granddaughter Muxlisa Khaytbayeva)

First of all, I must say that it gives me great pride to speak about our intelligent friend and contemporary, Omon Matjon.
Omonboy and I studied at the same school. He was a very diligent student, passionate about literature and history, and loved reading books. I can’t recall a time when Omonboy was just idly playing in the streets. He was always seen flipping through a newspaper or a book. He would somehow persuade his father to buy him new books, no matter how difficult it was.

He constantly engaged our school’s history teacher, Mr. Do’simmat, with various questions and eagerly sought answers. This curiosity is clearly reflected in the works he wrote later in life.
He loved his homeland deeply and beautifully expressed the history of Khorezm through legends and stories.

Thanks to his great talent, Omonboy earned everyone’s respect while still in school. His poems and articles regularly appeared in the school’s wall newspapers. Nearly all the students knew his creative works by heart.

He quickly became the pride of our school. His first poem was published in the district newspaper under the title “The Fish and the Rotten Net”:
The fish and the rotten net,
Quarreled hard, you bet.
Said the net: “Hey fishy boy,
You’re in trouble, you’ve lost your joy…”

After that, his poems began to appear in various publications one after another.
Even during his military service — this must have been in the 1960s — his poems were published in the journal “Sharq Yulduzi” (Star of the East).
All of us peers felt great pride in his achievements and rising fame among the people.

Omonboy entered the world of literature in 1965–66. To see him sharing the stage with such great poets of the time as Abdulla Oripov and Erkin Vohidov, enriching the literary garden, was a double joy for all of us.
Today, Omonboy is known to the entire nation as Omon Matjon. He became a prominent representative of the Matjonov family from the village of Bog‘olon, and through his work, he made our village known around the world.

His poems quickly gained popularity.
Who from our village does not remember the following lines?
“Even if autumn strews the roads with leaves,
Even if snow covers the whole world,
Even if spring bursts forth with joy,
One day, I will cross your door.”
With his sharp pen and rich creative legacy, he continues to delight our people.

At the same time, Omonboy played a key role in planting fruit trees over nearly 500 hectares of land in our village, helping transform Bog‘olon into a true land of orchards.
In 1988, we brought fruit saplings from Andijan and together established the “Yoshlik” (Youth) Orchard. It was during this time that I truly realized just how deep his respect was for his birthplace and native village.
Overall, Omon Matjon has been serving our nation and people with great devotion through his noble deeds.
The library operating in our village today also bears his name. He has gifted readers a vast spiritual legacy.

As a People’s Poet of Uzbekistan and winner of the Hamza Prize, our fellow villager Omon Matjon has become a beloved and respected figure thanks to his diverse creative activity and great achievements.
In my opinion, when Omonboy writes about our village, it feels as though he is putting into words the emotions and thoughts we ourselves could not express — and doing so beautifully, simply, and most importantly, deeply.
That is why we hold such deep respect for creative people.
There is no doubt that his works will live on forever and will continue to hold a special place in the hearts of readers.

Khaytbayeva Mukhlisa Mukhtorovna was born on July 11, 2004, in Yangibozor district, Khorezm region, Uzbekistan. She is currently a third-year student at the Faculty of Philology and Arts at Urgench State University, named after Abu Rayhon Beruni.

1. 《沙滩》- 车梓纯（7岁）

沙滩好黄好黄

像一朵朵金色的小花

在阳光下格外鲜艳

好好看的花

​

2. 《大船》- 刘梦菡（7岁）

大船大大的

我的大船是黄黄的

也有红色的

我的大船上面有红旗

​

3. 《稗子》- 刘锦怡（7岁）

小小的叶片

长梅花

我在叶片里坐

​

4. 《我心跳得这么快》- 刘芷涵（7岁）

我心跳得这么快

只要一天黑

我的心跳得快

妈妈一来

我心跳就不快

​

5. 《长大》- 潘熙瑶（7岁）

长大了真好

我可以自己穿衣服

自己系鞋带

自己扎头发

自己叠被子

长大了真好

长大了真快乐

​

6. 《军事》- 黄睦皓（7岁）

坦克是一种军用武器

下面有一个逃生门

军人是保护国家的

他们有正义感

1. 《Beach》- Che Zichun (7 years old)

The beach is so yellow, so yellow

Like little golden flowers

Extraordinarily bright in the sun

Such lovely flowers

​

2. 《Big Ship》- Liu Menghan (7 years old)

The big ship is huge

My big ship is yellow

There are also red ones

There’s a red flag on my big ship

​

3. 《Barnyard Grass》- Liu Jinyi (7 years old)

Tiny leaves

Growing plum blossoms

I sit inside the leaves

​

4. 《My Heart Beats So Fast》- Liu Zhihan (7 years old)

My heart beats so fast

As long as it gets dark

My heart beats fast

When Mom comes

My heart stops beating fast

​

5. 《Growing Up》- Pan Xiyao (7 years old)

It’s great to grow up

I can dress myself

Tie my shoelaces by myself

Tie my hair by myself

Fold my quilt by myself

It’s great to grow up

Growing up is so happy

​

6. 《Military》- Huang Muhao (7 years old)

A tank is a military weapon

There’s an escape hatch underneath

Soldiers protect the country

They have a sense of justice

 These poets are from the Xiaohe Poetry Society, and the instructor is Liu Xingli. 

……..

NO HOLDS BARRED & THE AGE OF GLORIFIED EXCESS  

Dr. Jernail S. Anand

Anand posits restraint as the cornerstone of existence, both in the natural world and in human endeavours. This idea resonates with ancient philosophies like Aristotle’s *Golden Mean* or the Buddhist *Middle Path*, where balance is essential for harmony. In art, restraint manifests in the careful modulation of voice into song or words into meaningful sentences, illustrating how discipline transforms raw potential into beauty. The essay suggests that restraint is not merely a limitation but a creative force. 

The essay concludes with a lament for a civilization “bred on excess”—excess of ambition, provision, and imagination. Anand critiques modern education for failing to teach humility or respect for human limits, resulting in a society that prioritizes achievement over humanity. This echoes critiques of modernity by thinkers like Thoreau or Gandhi, who warned against the dehumanizing effects of unchecked progress. The call to be “gentle to the elements” and “respectful to gods” is a plea for ecological and spiritual harmony. It suggests that happiness lies not in transcending limits but in embracing them with grace.  [XAI]

Restraint and Discipline

Restraint and discipline when come from an understanding of the facts of life, help take life forward and, thus,  retain their artistic value. However, when they are imposed by external agencies, it is good only to an extent, but under  maverick dispensations, they take the shape of repression also, which scuttles human will, disorients the idea of self-discipline and restraint, and leads to suppression, followed by extreme discontent, rebellion, civil war and revolution.

Restraint is the essential fact of life, as well as the soul of all art. When we make a medicine, we add so many items but what is more important is its proportion.  Life, too, is made of chemicals, which blend with the laws of physics and mathematics. When these chemicals are altered, we get different formations.  Restraint thus dominates the creative process, and dictates what will be what.  It is the magic of this restraint which turns the voice issuing forth from our voice box into a cry or a song  When people sing, a single simple breath can be altered in a thousand ways, to create as many ‘ragas’. Words are bound into sentences to mean certain things. Behind all this, there is the element of restraint which works to control variations and bring out a meaning we want to create.

Limits

While ‘restraint’ appears to be an intrinsic phenomenon, limits appear to be the outer garment of these restraints. How far a man can grow. How high  a ball can go.  How long you can live.  Then there are limits on  our faculties also. How high you can listen.  And how low a voice you can pick up? How loud you can speak.  Everything has a limit. Everything is restrained by an invisible force.

Limits are a natural supplement.  We inherently know what to speak, how high to speak, what not to speak, to whom to speak, – these are restraints which define our conduct as good or bad. If we let go this restraint, it can bring chaos in human life.  If we lose restraint in eating and drinking,  we immediately fall ill. It is a minor issue. But, if the cosmic forces lose their restraint, there are calamities and catastrophes.

Universe: A Perfect System

The fact is that this Universe is a perfect system, and anything that violates the discipline is burnt up in the space. Men too, who do not observe discipline and respect limits of their being, soon meet a devastating end. In regard to personal freedom, a quote is quite popular: “Your liberty ends where my nose begins”.  Liberty and restraint define civilized human relationships.  Not respecting limits shows forth in personal life too. The rich people who go on amassing wealth, never eat their dinner with peace. Their mind is a burning grave-yard in which joys commit suicide. They bring misery to the lives of other people and the greatest sufferers are their own loved ones, their  wives, their sons and their daughters, who are directly affected by this pathological madness.

The Crime World: Going Overboard

In society too, crime lords arrogate to themselves the powers of judgement, and gods are never comfortable with them. It is a strange paradox that dacoits are often considered great disciples of gods and goddesses, who they worship before they embark on any [mis]adventure. These are falsities perpetuated by men to cover up their foolish deeds. No god can bless a person who holds a gun in his hand and is planning to plunder homes of  innocent people. These artificially powered people have only one destination. They end with a bullet in their back.

Are Gods manufactures of Pain & Misfortune?

Loss of discipline and failure to observe restraint coupled with utter lack of understanding are responsible for the pain and misery which society faces on a large scale.  We think it was gods who gave this  bitter gift to mankind. But the fact is gods carry only blessings for mankind. You will see all the pains and miseries are manufactured in a foundry called human mind. You are the manufacturer of the pains, misfortunes and miseries scattered around you. It does no good to you to ascribe these pains to God’s Will and then say, you accept all  with resignation.

We err grievously if we think this misery and pain come to us from gods whereas they come to us from our own provision store. Gods have only one role in it. They have to deliver you the items you have ordered. We try to be smart with gods too. But, smartness does not pay. Gods make you leave your mind, your intellect, and your smartness in the cloak room while you check into the holy empire.

Leading a Happy Life

Gods are very unhappy with human beings and are sad too, to think that men, in their extreme wisdom, resort to smartness and try to befool godly systems. The facts however stand on the other side. In order to lead a happy life, we need to be gentle to the elements, and respectful to gods. It is better if we realize our limits as human beings. But, it is a pity, our education does not teach anything about these limits. They do not teach us to remain human. This is the tragic conclusion of a civilization which is bred on excess, excess of ambition, excess of provision, and excess of imagination.

Author:

Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, considered  “the greatest poet among philosophers and greatest philosopher among poets” is a towering literary figure whose work embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision. Laureate of  Seneca, Charter of Morava, Franz Kafka and Maxim Gorky awards with an opus of 180 books, his name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. He is the founder of International Academy of Ethics.  If Tagore is the serene sage of a colonial past, Anand is the fiery prophet of a chaotic present with a voice that resonates globally while remaining fiercely Indian.

[Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com]

[ethicsacademy.co.in]

From Africa to America: For Flora

POEMS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, RELIGIOUS AND MORAL (1773) was only the second book of poetry published by an American woman. The 20-year-old author was a slave, taken (according to scholarly consensus) to North America at seven years of age.  In fact, of course, nobody knows for sure when she was born (perhaps 1753) or where (maybe Senegal or Gambia) or even what she was called in her youth. She arrived in Boston aboard the Phillis and was purchased by merchant John Wheatley; and so her “name” became Phillis Wheatley. 

When she was 14 or so she began writing poetry, and by 16 her work began to attract public notice. Because of her gender and caste, she was forced to defend her authorship before the colonial governor, lieutenant governor, and other luminaries. Even after they attested that she had indeed written the verses ascribed to her, she could not get her collected material published in Massachusetts, though well-connected members of the nobility acted as her patrons and secured its publication in England. The book became an international sensation, prompting Voltaire himself to comment that it proved that black people could write poetry. Nevertheless, due to her own situation and the tumult surrounding the American Revolution, she was unable to publish another book before her death in 1784, though her work did continue to appear occasionally in pamphlets and newspapers.

One of her best-known  poems is “On Being Brought from Africa to America”:

   ‘Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,

   Taught my benighted soul to understand

   That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too:

   Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.

   Some view our sable race with scornful eye,

   “Their colour is a diabolic die.”

   Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,

   May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.

Nikki Giovanni, on the other hand, trod a very different literary path, publishing numerous volumes of poetry and essays, teaching at several prestigious universities, and winning major awards including 20 honorary doctorates. Named for her mother, Yolande Cornelia Giovanni, Sr., she was born some 190 years after Wheatley, in Knoxville, Tennessee, but raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, until she was 10, at which time she returned to Knoxville to live with her grandparents. 

In 1967, the year she graduated with honors with a bachelor’s degree in History from her grandfather’s alma mater, Fisk University, in Nashville, Tennessee, she published her first volume of poetry, BLACK FEELING, BLACK TALK, which sold over 10,00 copies its first year; BLACK JUDGMENT (1968) sold 6,000 in just three months. Together, they established her as one of the most successful representatives of the Black Arts Movement that dominated African-American culture in the 1960s and beyond. 

Her fifth book, THE WOMEN AND THE MEN (1975), featured “Poem for Flora”:

when she was little
and colored and ugly with short
straightened hair
and a very pretty smile
she went to Sunday school to hear
’bout nebuchadnezzar the king
of the jews
and she would listen
shadrach, meshach and abednego in the fire
and she would learn
how god was neither north
nor south east or west
with no color but all
she remembered was that
Sheba was Black and comely
and she would think
i want to be
like that

It is almost as though Giovanni wanted to engage with her literary ancestor Wheatley in a poetical dialectic on the changes in racial attitudes over a pair of centuries of American development.

Both poets opened with a reflection on their youthful introduction to Christian worship. Wheatley claimed it was a “mercy” to be taken from her own “Pagan land” in order to learn that “there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too.” Giovanni seemed to project her psychic self  onto a family friend, Flora Fletcher Alexander, who often babysat for young Nikki. — “she loved clothes. Flora was the sharpest dresser,” she later recalled. Nikki/Flora “went to Sunday school to hear / ’bout Nebuchadnezzar the king / of the jews” and about “shadrach, meshach and Abednego in the fire.” But in the style of the times, before the Romantics began to relax the formalist standards of prosody and semantics,Wheatley mostly confined her remarks to a generality, while Giovanni reflected the Post-Modernist penchant for grammatical laxity and politically charged specificity. The Chaldean ruler Nabu-kudurri-usur II was indeed king of the Jews but only because of his conquest of Judea in 597 BCE; he was portrayed as a foreign oppressor in several books of the Old Testament, including the portion of the Book of Daniel where he cast Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into a fiery furnace for refusing to worship a golden idol. (Ironically, as we shall see, the Alphabet of Ben Sidra posited Nebuchadnezzar as the son of Solomon and the queen of Sheba, a chronological impossibility.)

Both women expressed their approval of the universalism of the Christian doctrine that even “Negroes, black as Cain / May be refin’d, and join the angelic train” and that “god was neither north / nor south east or west” — though Giovanni insistently added the clarification “with no color but all” to counter Wheatley’s demeaning allusion to God’s punishment of Cain for the murder of his brother Abel by “marking” him, which was often interpreted as giving him a black skin and therefore providing a Biblical justification for racism.

But even in these religious introductory remarks, race was an essential referent. For Wheatley the matter was a subtext, almost parenthetical, a pun on her “benighted soul.” But for Giovanni the blackness took center stage. Flora may have been “colored and ugly with short / straightened hair” (since African-Americans of Flora’s generation “conked” their hair by using lye to straighten their naturally kinky locks. Black nationalist leader Malcolm X claimed that the process “makes you wonder if the Negro has completely lost all sense of identity, lost touch with himself.”) But Flora’s own takeaway from Sunday school was that “Sheba was Black and comely” and Flora/Nikki decided “I want to be / like that.”

The queen of Sheba made only a brief appearance in the Bible, visiting Solomon in order “to prove him with hard questions.” But that cameo role led to her starring in one of the world’s most widespread and protean cycle of legends. She was probably from Saba (modern Yemen); the Sabaeans also had domains across the Red Sea on the Horn of Africa., and the later kingdom of Aksum (ancestral to Ethiopia) was sometimes referred to as Seba. Nevertheless, though history has recorded several Arabic queens, no African ones are known, even though the queen of Sheba has come to be regarded as such.

The literary confusion seems to have begun with the Books of Matthew and Luke in the New Testament, which referred to her as a “queen of the South” from “the uttermost parts of the earth,” At the same time, the historian Titus Flavius Josephus claimed she was a queen of Egypt and Ethiopia.A century later, the Christian theologian Origen conflated the “bride,” the female speaker in the Song of Songs, as the “Queen of the South,” (“I am very dark, but comely,” she proclaimed, or, in the NEW REVISED STANDARD VERSION, “black and beautiful,” though this translation would have been too late to directly influence the Giovanni poem).

Matthew preached the Gospel in Colchis (modern Ethiopia), and even earlier than that Philip the Evangelist had converted one of Queen Candace’s court officials there, making Ethiopia the site of the oldest Christian church (though “ethiopian” is Greek for “burnt face” and may have referred to Africans in general). The Ethiopians, in turn, seem to have taken particular delight in associating themselves with Biblical traditions. So the wordplay of Origen (conjoined to the comments by Matthew and various Islamic traditions concerning Queen Bilkis, the Arabic version of the queen of Sheba) seems to have been the basis for the Ethiopian national saga, the 14th century KEBRA NAGAST, in which Queen  Makeda visited Solomon, who impressed her with his wealth and wisdom. She converted to Judaism and, on her way home, gave birth to Solomon’s son, Menilek, the ancestor claimed by all the kings of Ethiopia. until the last of them, Haile Selassie, was deposed in 1974. That last reigning descendant of Solomon and the queen of Sheba is regarded by the Rastafari as a divine messianic figure who will lead a future Golden Age of eternal peace, righteousness, and prosperity. (And thus the Rastafari bring the entire process full circle: they adapted their Haile Selassie symbolism from some rhetorical statements made by fellow Jamaican Marcus Garvey, who popularized the pan-African notion of “black is beautiful” and organized various separatist entities in the United States; one of Garvey’s followers was Earl Little, the martyred father of Malcolm X, whose own 1965 assassination sparked the creation of the Black Arts Movement of which Giovanni became a prominent representative figure.)

So, as a leading exponent of the “Black Is Beautiful” sentiment of the 1960s, Nikki Giovanni proudly focused on the fabled African queen of Sheba — “all / she remembered was that / Sheba was Black and comely” — while Phillis Wheatley was meekly apologetic about the way the Christians of Boston viewed her “sable race with scornful eye” because of the “diabolic die” associated with Cain, the world’s first murderer. Despite the commonalities in their two poems, this difference in attitude speaks volumes about how African-American views about the nature of their roles changed dramatically over the course of two centuries.

Εύα Πετρόπουλου Λιανου

“Becoming a Butterfly, Becoming a Soul: An Existential Reading of Eva Petropoulou Lianou’s Poem”

By Rizal Tanjung

Eva Petropoulou Lianou’s poem “Nothing Belongs to Us” is a lyrical utterance that holds within it layers of existential reflection, critique of anthropocentrism, and a meditation on the spirituality of the body. In the increasingly cacophonous landscape of contemporary poetry—often overwhelmed by the aesthetics of form—this piece appears typographically simple yet philosophically sharp. This essay attempts to read the poem as a poetic contemplation of freedom, the infinitude of the human condition, and a critique of the illusion of possession. Through the lenses of existentialism (Sartre, Kierkegaard) and the cosmic mysticism of Taoist thought, it seeks to delve into the poem’s pulse in order to unearth what it means to be human.

Across both Eastern and Western traditions of poetry, the question of the human self has never reached its final answer. From Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself to Laozi’s Tao Te Ching, human beings have long pondered their identity in a world relentlessly obsessed with possession, power, and selfhood. Eva Petropoulou Lianou’s poem comes as a whisper amid the clamor. With its formal simplicity yet profound meaning, it dares to challenge structures of society, belief, and even the logic of human ownership.

This poem invites a new reading of existence—fluid, self-sovereign, and spiritually free. It becomes a literary vehicle that resists the illusion of domination over oneself and nature. The central question guiding this essay is: How does the poem dismantle the myth of ownership and replace it with existential freedom and devotion to the soul?

Textual Reading: Structure and Symbolism

The poem is built from short lines, unconstrained by conventional rhyme or rhythm, yet it forms an internal cadence that is deeply reflective. Its narrative voice is declarative and intimate—as if the reader is being invited into a mirror held up by their own inner voice.

Key recurring symbols include:

“Butterfly,” “bee,” “ants,” “wolf”: Non-human beings that symbolize existence without domination.

“Laugh to your heart,” “touch the stars”: Invitations toward a spirituality born in simplicity.

“Stomach,” “instinct,” “inner soul”: The body as a center of wisdom—subverting the Western body-soul dichotomy.

The poem’s free structure becomes a metaphor for the freedom it articulates. Eva’s form reflects her message: the poem is free because it voices freedom.

Philosophical Approach: Existentialism and the Cosmology of the Body

Existentialism: Choice, Freedom, and the Absurd

Jean-Paul Sartre famously argued that human beings are “condemned to be free.” In this poem, freedom is not merely a moral choice, but a way of being—rooted in the body and instinct:

“We are choosing according to our feelings / Our thoughts / Our beliefs / Our stomach”

These lines are existential declarations: human sovereignty is not determined by external systems, but by the voice within. There is no divine hand dictating one’s fate. We belong to no one. We are the authors of our own will.

In the Kierkegaardian sense, the rejection of blind faith in systems, others, or societal order echoes through the poem:

“Show respect / Kindness / But no trust / Trust your instinct / Trust your heart”

Here, the poem becomes a manifestation of the leap of faith—not toward a god, but toward the sacred silence of the inner self.

Taoist Cosmology and the Mysticism of the Body

In Taoist tradition, human beings are not rulers of nature but parts of its flow. Eva echoes this cosmic humility in lines such as:

“We are nothing more than a fly / …than a bird”

The human body is not superior to other beings—thus, it becomes sacred in its humility. The poem rejects human exceptionalism. We are not creators, not owners. We are mere participants in the grand dance of nature, and our role is to attune, not to control.

Aesthetics of Being: The Child, the Soul, and the Stars

The poem closes with a shift into mysticism:

“Stay a happy child”

The child here becomes a symbol of ultimate spirituality: free from burden, honest in desire, filled with laughter. This is not psychological regression, but existential purity. In the symbol of the child, the poem stores a vital teaching: happiness is not a result of achievement, but a return to the most honest truth of the soul—play and dream.

Poetry as the Way Back

“Nothing Belongs to Us” is both poem and philosophy, both language and silence. It teaches that to be human is not to possess, not to know, not to rule—but to become the butterfly: fleeting, light, and meaningful through mere presence.

By weaving existentialism, the cosmology of the body, and natural symbolism, Eva Petropoulou Lianou has crafted not just a poem, but a spiritual map for those who seek meaning in a world weary of ownership. In a world overwhelmed with noise, this poem becomes the path home to a silence filled with light.

West Sumatra, 2025

References

Kierkegaard, Søren. Fear and Trembling, 1843.

Sartre, Jean-Paul. Being and Nothingness, Gallimard, 1943.

Laozi. Tao Te Ching, trans. D.C. Lau, Penguin Classics, 1963.

Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass, 1855.

Petropoulou Lianou, Eva. “Nothing Belongs to Us”, 2024.

Nothing belongs to us

Nothing belongs to us

We are free

We are the captain of our soul..

Nobody can say this or that  and you must execute.

Nobody belongs to us

We are choosing according our feelings

Our thoughts

Our beliefs

Our stomach

The most a person make you laugh

The more u want to be with

We are nobody

We are nothing

More than the butterfly

Than the bee…

We are no creators but small ants

Or seagulls

Or wolf

Show respect

Kindness

But no trust

Trust your instinct

Trust your heart

We are nothing more than a fly

We are nothing more than a bird

Laugh to your heart

Love your inner soul

And put your frequency high

Touch the stars

Make a wish

Stay a happy child

Greek poet Eva Petropoulou Lianou

SLANDER AND TRUTH

Suitors kept coming to our house one after another.
Yet my heart did not warm to any of the marriage candidates.
Maybe it wasn’t their fault at all.
To be honest, I didn’t feel ready to run a household, to be someone’s wife.

That evening, more matchmakers came.
They’d already been turned down once — why did they come back? Didn’t they understand?
My poor mother looked at me pleadingly.

— Mother, I’ve already said no! Tell them not to come again!

— My child, — my mother replied calmly, — matchmakers come to a house with a daughter. How can we just slam the door on guests? That’s not our custom, my dear. Your fussiness is wearing me out. Now I swear, whoever next knocks at our gate asking for your hand, I’ll give you away and be done with it. That’s it.

You’re already twenty. Do you still think you’re so young?
Your peers are building happy families. And you? You’re being picky, turning your nose up at everyone.
“Be careful not to keep choosing and end up with something far worse,” she warned.

Seeing how serious my mother was becoming, I felt trapped, torn between my own wishes and hers.

The next morning, my aunt came over. Mother told her everything.
— Don’t worry! — said my aunt, as if she had been waiting for this. — Leave it to me. I’ll see your daughter married. Of course she’ll agree.

Not long after, I was engaged to my aunt’s son. There was really no other way — there were family ties between us. It was decided that we would have the wedding in three years…

After the engagement, I worked tirelessly, day and night, like an ant, trying to win over my parents-in-law.
They treated me like their own daughter.
But my sisters-in-law couldn’t stand it. They’d say openly to my mother, “Well, she is still just your sister’s daughter, after all.”

Little by little, their attitude toward me changed. Sometimes I was bewildered.
No matter how hard I tried to please them, they always found faults, whispered behind my back, tried to turn others against me, and humiliated me quietly.

One day we went out to the fields to plant tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelons, and melons. By noon, we had finished planting all the seedlings…

At one point, when my mother-in-law finally had a moment to breathe, she asked:
— Have you seen the scissors? Anora wanted me to sew a small quilt if I had time. I’ve searched everywhere but can’t find them. Did you happen to see them?

It was as if my sister-in-law Khadicha had been waiting exactly for this. She raised her voice so my mother could hear clearly:
— Why bother searching? Your precious bride has them at her house, under her quilt. I’ll fetch them right now. You see how sly your dear daughter-in-law is? Even when she hears this, she just sits there pretending to know nothing. There’s much more to her than you’d believe.

I was stunned.
I didn’t even get the chance to defend myself — as soon as one stopped, the other picked up. I had worked day and night alongside them, never once needing those scissors. I couldn’t imagine how they ended up at my place.

From that day on, even my father-in-law and mother-in-law stopped trusting me.
— Why did I ever take an old maid like you for my daughter-in-law? You’ve brought nothing but trouble. Get out of my sight, — my aunt finally spat one day.

Truth is like air. You breathe it in to live, but you cannot see it.
My husband, too, began straying down the path of betrayal. Still, I swallowed it all. For life’s great sorrows, I found courage; for the small ones, patience.

The fights grew worse day by day. At last, unable to endure it, I returned to my parents’ house and poured everything out to my mother. She scolded me.
— It must be partly your own fault. Go back to your husband’s house.

Three days later, I returned.
But my father-in-law and mother-in-law only mocked me:
— Couldn’t you fit into your mother’s tight womb, yet can’t seem to fit into our big house? Leave the way you came. We don’t want a daughter-in-law like you.

They themselves took me back to my parents’ home.

Three months later, I gave birth. I waited so long, hoping that now, with a child, they’d come and take me back. But no one ever came.

Never throw away your self-worth under someone else’s feet just to win their favor — they won’t see it anyway.

Brides, too, are someone’s daughters, raised with hardship by their parents.
I don’t so much pity myself as I do my mother’s years of sacrifice.

Maybe if I’d agreed to those other suitors my mother suggested, my life would have turned out differently.

Life is like riding a bicycle — you have to keep moving to maintain your balance. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself in situations you never expected.

Life is a journey. And how we travel it is entirely up to us.

My biggest mistake was living with my husband without officially registering our marriage.
Sometimes I blame fate for it. But what fault is it of fate?
It was all because of my own impatience, my failure to look ahead and think wisely.

People are easily charmed by sweet words.
But when your trust shatters into pieces, that’s when you realize the depth of the tragedy. You pour out your tears, but nothing goes back to how it was.

Even before my little girl was born, it seemed her destiny had already been marked — a life without a father.
After she was born, we needed to get her a birth certificate.
But since we didn’t have an official marriage paper, we were forced to register her under my father’s last name.

Sometimes I wonder: if we had at least formalized our marriage, maybe we wouldn’t have divorced so quickly.
I kept trusting him when he said, “We’ll register after the wedding.”
Then it was one excuse after another, until we ended up like this.

Now my daughter is growing up never knowing a father’s love.
At night, thoughts of her future steal my sleep.
Even when I took him to court, I couldn’t get her his surname. He denied his paternity.

How wretched is powerlessness — I couldn’t even defend my rights.
My daughter is older now. She keeps asking me, “Why did you and Dad separate? Why do I have Grandpa’s last name? What’s the reason?”
But I have no answer, no words that could soothe her.
For some reason, I can’t even look her in the eye.

I’ve learned — though too late — that when young people start building a family, they must pause and truly think it through. Because regretting later is pointless.
And oh, how deeply I’ve regretted it…

At times like this, my teacher’s words echo in my mind:
“First, don’t make a mistake when choosing your profession — it should give you both honor and bread.
Second, don’t make a mistake when choosing your life partner. Let him be your shoulder to lean on.
Bind your fate to someone who will never become a burden you’ll regret.”

I understood all this only too late.
Now, what would regret change? Nothing.
I must keep moving forward, find the strength within myself so that my daughter can be happy.

So to all the future brides out there, to the young girls who can’t yet see beyond today —
“Dear girls, don’t rush. Before you marry, think deeply.
Because happiness is in your own hands. It’s like a delicate bird trembling in your palm — if you’re careless, it will fly away.”

Digital Inequality and Rural Women: Opportunities, Barriers, and Solutions

Sh. Kholmurodova — Student of Social Work, National University of Uzbekistan

Introduction

In 2024, the number of internet users in Uzbekistan reached 80%. But what proportion of this number consists of women living in rural areas? While digital transformation is rapidly becoming an integral part of our daily lives, not everyone benefits equally from this progress. Unfortunately, many women living in rural areas of Uzbekistan still do not have sufficient access to digital technologies. This gap is giving rise to a new form of social inequality — digital gender disparity.

1. The Concept and Relevance of Digital Inequality

Digital inequality refers to the disparity in access to and use of the internet and digital technologies among different segments of society. These disparities often reflect and reinforce existing economic, social, cultural, and gender-based inequalities. Compared to men, urban populations, and high-income groups, rural women face the most significant barriers. These include:

– Lack of access to digital devices and stable internet

– Low levels of digital literacy

– Gender stereotypes and traditional social norms

– Lack of economic independence

Moreover, factors such as marital status, age, and family responsibilities also influence digital access. Married women or mothers with multiple children often have less time and opportunity to use digital technologies.

2. Research and Statistical Data

According to the Ministry of Digital Technologies of Uzbekistan (2024), 73% of women in urban areas use the internet, compared to only 48% in rural areas.

The UN’s 2023 *Gender and Digital Equality Report* indicates that in developing countries, women are 30–40% less likely to use the internet than men.

UNESCO’s 2022 study highlighted that many rural women have only heard of digital services but rarely use them in practice due to lack of digital skills.

A 2024 social survey conducted in the Sariosiyo district of Surkhandarya region revealed that 61% of women respondents could not use government e-services or online payment systems.

3. Opportunities and Positive Initiatives

There are several existing opportunities to integrate rural women into the digital world:

– Free training through the “Women’s Notebook” social support program

– Access to IT education through IT Park, “DigitALL,” and “One Million Uzbek Coders”

– Remote employment opportunities: e-commerce, content creation, and freelancing

– Special grants, microloans, and startup funding for women entrepreneurs

– Establishment of digital information centers for women within local communities

Pilot projects supported by local authorities, NGOs, and international donors have shown early success. For instance, the IT Park’s “Coding for Women” program has demonstrated positive results in rural areas.

4. Barriers, Stereotypes, and Practical Challenges

Despite the potential, many of these initiatives do not fully reach rural women due to the following barriers:

– Low self-confidence among women

– Family restrictions and lack of support for digital activities

– Poor digital infrastructure in remote areas

– Limited availability of user-friendly content in local languages

– Weak cooperation between local governments, NGOs, and grassroots activists

In addition, there is a shortage of community-level professionals — such as mahalla leaders, social workers, and teachers — who are aware of the issue and can actively facilitate solutions.

Conclusion and Recommendations

Ensuring that rural women can access digital opportunities is crucial for promoting their economic empowerment, social inclusion, and self-development. Achieving digital gender equality should be a central goal in Uzbekistan’s digital transformation strategy.

The following practical recommendations are proposed:

 Organize digital literacy courses — mobile outreach units in communities

 Develop user-friendly apps designed specifically for women (in Uzbek, with voice features)

 Invest in rural internet infrastructure, especially in remote regions like Sariosiyo

 Create motivational content that highlights success stories of female digital role models

 Establish local women’s digital centers — offering free Wi-Fi, training, and consultation

Clearly designate implementing organizations — including the Ministry of Digital Technologies, the Ministry for the Support of Mahalla and Family, IT Park, UNDP, and local NGOs

References

1. United Nations. Gender and Digital Equality Report, 2023

2. Ministry of Digital Technologies of Uzbekistan. Statistical Bulletin, 2024

3. UNDP Uzbekistan. DigitALL: Digital Literacy Platform for Women, 2023

4. Social Survey Report: Sariosiyo District, Surkhandarya Region, 2024

5. UNESCO. Digital Literacy for Women in Rural Areas, 2022