Essay from Akramova Shiringul Furquatjon

Young Central Asian woman with long dark hair, brown eyes, and earrings in a black sweater against a brown background.


The window is open. It’s cloudy outside, but nice weather. Inside, a girl was sitting silently, staring at the window. Silence covered the room for a while. Naila brought a bowl of food and a glass of water into the room and was even more saddened by her daughter’s condition. The fact that her mother was constantly acting on her behalf, and she was only a spectator, made Komila feel sick. The reason for this was that Komila was in a serious car accident when she was young. At that time, as if it was not enough that Komila lost her legs, she also witnessed the death of her father in front of her eyes. Since then, Komila has been helpless in her mother’s arms. Years have passed. He was studying in the school of his peers, and was playing and laughing in the arms of his parents. Every day, Komila cried to herself, “Why am I living?” His mother was raising him with difficulties. There was no one but Komila’s daughter. Naila lived by selling somsa in the market every day. Months passed, then years. It’s still the same.

       One day he was buying somsa in the market as usual. A man who had been watching her from a distance came up to Naila curiously. Naila was dressed in plain clothes. When Naila asked, “come on, do you need somsa”, the man answered Naila, “yes” and bought it.

     The man started coming to get somsa every day. They became like sisters with Naila. One day that man asked Naila a question:

    – Sister, we have known you for a long time, but I don’t know much about you. But you have become like my sister. Please tell me about yourself.

        After some imagination, Naila began to tell everything that happened to her. After listening to everything that happened in silence, that person said to himself:

       “Why did I know this woman from before and did not ask her about herself, what kind of days have passed since the beginning, why wasn’t I interested earlier” – he asked himself.

        That person quietly held Naila’s hand:

   – Sister, walk with me, I will take you somewhere – he said. Naila continued to walk with that person, surprised. They came to a big place. Naila asked that person: “Where did we come from?”, and the person said that this is your house from today. Naila, who could not stop herself from excitement, refused. He tried hard to give this big house to Naila. But Naila resisted a lot and finally gave in. Naila felt very uncomfortable. The man looked at Naila and said: “From today you are my sister, and Komila is my sister.” Hearing these words, Naila burst into tears. He remembered the days he spent. Even after the death of his master, everyone turned away from him. When he needed help, everyone left him alone. After a while, the man did everything he could to heal Komila’s legs, and Komila started walking. Naila’s joy was so boundless that she could not fit herself into this bright world. He was supposedly an angel sent by Allah Naila in exchange for this patience.

   The happiness that came after patience was a miracle of God.

I am Akramova Shiringul Furqatjon, I was born on October 28, 2004 in Sirdarya district of Sirdarya region. Women’s All India Technical Skill Development Council Organization and I am a member of the National Human Rights and Humanitarian Federation.