Just after we passed the Little Giants snack factory and the bend in the road not more than three minutes from my house, the van slowed to a halt. It was oddly quiet outside. “It’s so calm today,” I said to Moniba. “Where are all the people?”
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 in front of our truck.
“Is this the Khushal School bus?” one of them asked.
The driver laughed. The name of the school was painted in black letters on the side.
The other young man jumped onto the tailboard and leaned into the back, where we were all sitting.
“Who is Malala?” he asked.
No one said a word, but a few girls looked in my direction.
He raised his arm and 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.
Malala’s (@MalalaFund) dream is for every girl in every country to have the opportunity for an education. Inspired by her beliefs, Little, Brown Books for Young Readers (@lbkids) has teamed up with First Book (@FirstBook) to make her hope a reality. Tweet #ISupportMalala at @lbkids and 1 book will be donated to a child in need. Learn more here: http://iammalala.pgtb.me/c4s4rd.