It was a most trying period. Things at home were going from bad to worse. Dad could not find a job that could provide for our family, which comprised my three siblings, parents, paternal grandparents and me.

Mum was always tense, as her meagre income as a teacher in a primary school could not support the family. My grandfather’s health was deteriorating, while my grandmother, at the age of 70, tried to look after my three younger siblings. Chasing after a toddler with aching knees was not an easy task, but she had to manage when my mother left for work.

I dreaded coming home after school. Dad would return late, his shoulders drooped low, reflecting yet another day of failing to find a job. When he fell asleep, I would often hear Mum’s stifled sobs as she worried about how the household expenses would be managed in the days ahead. I could do nothing to ease the situation, and this realisation filled me with anguish and frustration. I had once been an above-average student, but now I was doing poorly in school.

It was at this point that Ms Shameem entered my life as my class teacher. A soft-spoken woman in her late forties, she was quick to notice the change that had come over me.

One day during recess, I was standing alone in a corner of the corridor when Ms Shameem spotted me and asked me to follow her. We went to the library, where she asked me to sit beside her. I sat with my head bent low.

“Maham, tell me, why are you so distracted from your studies these days?” she asked gently.

I lifted my head and looked at her. Her eyes were full of warmth and compassion. Tears welled up in mine, and though I tried to hold them back, I couldn’t. They rolled down my cheeks. She held my hands and asked if I wanted to share my problem. I spoke, and she listened patiently, without interrupting me.

After I finished, she spoke to me about life and its difficulties. She told me that such times come to make us stronger. She encouraged me to study hard, reminding me that this was my focus at that stage of life and that it would lead to a better future for both my family and me.

As she spoke, my perception began to change. Before that meeting, I had felt like a nonentity. Now, I felt different. I knew Ms Shameem genuinely cared for me.

In the days that followed, she made it a point to monitor my progress and help me whenever I faced difficulties. For the first time that year, I felt capable of achieving something. Things at home remained largely the same, but there was a profound change within me. As the end-of-year examinations approached, I worked as hard as I could.

Two weeks after the exams, Ms Shameem announced that I had topped the class. I was awarded a scholarship along with a stipend — an amount that would greatly help my family. When I understood the details, I could hardly believe it.

I rushed home to share the news. My father was not there, as usual, but when I told the rest of my family, they cried tears of happiness, hugging me and thanking God Almighty. When my father returned home later, he was overjoyed. Seeing the pride in his eyes was one of the happiest moments I had experienced at home in a long time.

The next day, I met Ms Shameem and thanked her profusely. She taught me that when everything seems to be going wrong, a little guidance can give someone the confidence to achieve anything in life. I promised myself that one day, I would be that person for someone else.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 24th, 2026