Same Same But Different

I’ve been in Dhaka for one month. Some days it feels like I only just arrived and other days not so much. Friends and family back home have been asking me to describe what Bangladesh is like and I’ve been finding it hard. A term I’ve been using a lot is same same but different.  It is a line I borrowed from the shop keepers in Thailand – which is where I first heard it being used. I know it’s a term generally used to convince holiday shoppers to buy another beer branded t-shirt but I think it sums up nicely how I adjust to a new city.

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A rickshaw driver takes a ciggy break

There’s a limit to how much you can read, the questions you can ask and mental preparation you can undertake before you need to experience the place for yourself. In the first few weeks of arriving in a city I often find myself comparing it to my past travels and this process acts as my initial guide.  Not too long after I realise I need to forget most of my assumptions because once you get past the introduction most cities are more different than they are same same.

For me, Dhaka is a city of extremes. I’m either thinking wow I love this place or how quickly I could pack up my things and be on flight home to Australia. My initial thought of Dhaka’s traffic – which it’s famous for – was that it’s similar to Mumbai where every time you decide to travel it’s like you’re playing dodgem cars, although a much more serious and dangerous version. But I was surprised one day when I saw what looked like one of London’s famous red double decker buses. I asked around and it turns out England donated some of their old buses to Bangladesh. Now every time I see one it reminds me of the few years I spent in England. Transport is an interesting here because people still managed to get around despite all the known issues.

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Dhaka city is surrounded by lakes. People use boats to get around
Photo by Sonya Steffen

I expected a city with dust and dirt swirling at my feet and little greenery. While I do get covered by grime daily, I discovered Bangladeshi people love parks; many of which have been created specifically for exercise and relaxation. The parks are also used by couples as a romantic spot to sit, hold hands and whisper to each other. I was told traditionally the opposite sex shouldn’t be affectionate with each other in public but it appears the younger generation are deciding their own rules for love and relationships; under the protection of trees. Bangladesh’s relationship with the environment in some areas is very progressive. It was the first country to ban plastic bags on a national scale and I have yet to see one being used.

While Bangladesh falls short in some areas it is strides ahead in others. Internet access is one example of this. Who would have thought Wi-Fi would be available in nearly every café and restaurant in Dhaka and it would be free! It’s certainly not the case in Australia. It comes in very handy when the country’s movement is restricted by hartals so going to the office isn’t an option. Dhaka is also a city of mobile phones. Everyone seems to have one, from the rickshaw drivers to business women. And for the most part life seems to carry on despite hartals, traffic, or the weather thanks to the internet.

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You’d only see a painted elephant like this in Asia
Photo by Sonya Steffen

Now that I’m living in Dhaka I find it hard to understand why I haven’t heard more about this amazing country. While it often gets compared to India – and for good reason- Bangladesh in many ways isn’t anything like its neighbor. It’s like nowhere I have ever been before. The country is young and hasn’t decided who it wants to be yet, which is why it’s so different.

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I’m about to embark on a long distance relationship

This was originally written for and is featured on The Peach.

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If you had asked me a few years ago about my opinion on long distance relationships I would have told you I couldn’t imagine myself ever being in one and such a move would only damage the relationship not improve it. But in less than a month I will find myself in a long distance relationship and my opinion of them has changed.

I could never see myself in one because I had this romantic notion that I would meet my partner and he’d be just like me, with the same dreams and ambitions – desperate to explore and eager to live overseas. And if one of us got our perfect job opportunity in some far off place, then the other would make the sacrifice and move with.  Oh how naïve I was. I blame it on Hollywood movies. In the past I saw couples and close friends throw the term ‘long distance’ around loosely often with clauses like ‘kiss but don’t tell’ and sadly I watched  as the majority of the relationships ended in tears and bitter arguments. It wasn’t until I found myself about to be in a long distant relationship that I realised how wrong my opinion of them had been.

This is not the first time my partner and I will be separated. Nearly four years ago I moved to the United Kingdom and left him behind in Australia but at this time we were best friends not a couple.  We did lose contact for a short period but for the most part we managed to keep our relationship going despite varying time zones, being literally on the other side of the world from each other and enjoying different lifestyles.

When I decided to take a job in Bangladesh my partner and I discussed me moving but it wasn’t nearly as dramatic or upsetting as I thought it would be. In fact you could say we breezed over it. There were no talks of break ups or seeing other people or even that he’d move with me. It’s only a year we said. Our friends and family have actually brought it up more than we have and some have asked me how I could leave him or why he isn’t willing to go with me. In no way do we feel like we are abandoning the other for staying or going, although sometimes I feel pressure from others to feel this way.

While I realise how hard it’s going to be, I’m trying to see it as a positive experience for both of us. Explaining that the time apart will and be good for our relationship is hard. I find myself saying ‘yes, a part of me wants him in Bangladesh but this is my dream and I want to do it on my own’. Like I said it was naïve of me to believe that my partner would want the exact same things, and in fact he wants the opposite in many ways! This year will give us a chance to work on our own dreams, grow and be a little selfish. I don’t see there is anything wrong with that.

I understand I’m taking a risk. Distance does put a strain on a relationship but I think not taking this year apart for fear we won’t make it is risker.  People who have been through it have said regular communication is the really important and being apart can actually strengthen communication between the couple. Luckily my partner and I have a good track record so far. We are one of those couples that send each other random text messages daily like ‘you wouldn’t believe what just happened’ or pictures titled ‘this made me think of you.’ I believe it’s the mundane, random and fleeting moment kind of stuff that binds a relationship together. Sharing the highlights of one’s day or week I think can be easier and less personal then the little things because you tend to recap events – well I do – as opposed to talking about how you feel. I don’t know how many times I’ve been happy or really upset about an event and have thought about contacting someone but haven’t, and when asked about it a week later I brush it aside like it was no big deal when it totally was. This is why I am going to make sure I take the time to share the little things with my partner so he can be a part of what I’m going through in Dhaka and stop me from trying to handle everything on my own. I know that if we work at it we can still be a big part of each others lives.

Everyone asks me what I’m going to miss the most and I won’t lie- it will be the hugs. Sometimes words just aren’t enough.  Of course there are plenty of other things I’ll miss too, like having him make me cups of tea when I’m too lazy to get off the couch, or the random late night trips to 7/11 because we just saw an ad on TV for ice-cream and now we want to try it. We took the advice of others and have booked a holiday together in December so we have something to look forward too. But that means it will be six months from when I leave to our first meet up which doesn’t sound that long in theory but on a day-by-day basis it may feel like forever away.

I know long distance relationships aren’t the answer for every couple because every person and situation is different. But entering in one has made me realise that it doesn’t have to be a test to see how much the person loves and needs you. In fact it can be a decision made by both parties in order to strengthen the relationship. I hope that I can write again in a year’s time and say we made it! But in the meantime we will concentrate on getting through each day. Today we are both a mixture of excited and sad.  And I’m sure we will feel many more emotions in between over the next year.

Have you been in a long distance relationship or know of someone who has? I’d love to hear any advice or tips on how they made it work.

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I’m moving to Bangladesh for a year

This was originally written for and is featured on The Peach.

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I’m moving to Bangladesh for a year.

Just writing it makes me freak out. The last few weeks I’ve been a mix of emotions. One minute I’m smiling and day dreaming about the people I’ll meet and the next moment I’m feeling sweaty and faint, my brain processing all the things that can go wrong.

A few weeks ago I accepted a communications role in a legal firm located in Dhaka as a part of the AYAD program.  I will be working with the firm to increase the efficiency of their communications, with the aim to help marginalized and poor families better understand and access their legal rights. It’s an area I’ve been particularly passionate about for a while. Being accepted in the AYAD program, along with my writing, has been my focus for the last two years and I still can’t believe everything has finally fallen into place.

Living in Asia is something I have wanted to do for a while, ever since I first landed in Singapore in 2009. I think it’s the mixture of the old and new, the colours and sunshine or maybe the kindness of the people that draws me to Asia. I never expected it but when I’m there I feel like I’m home, like it’s where I’m supposed to be. I’ve moved overseas before but it was different. My best friend was with me and it was to London. Adjusting to the big city was pretty easy; that’s not to say it wasn’t a big move for a 22 year old who had lived her whole life in Tasmania. But I’ve realised pretty quickly moving to Bangladesh will require me to step out of my comfort zone entirely. For the first time I’m going to be on my own in a country I’ve never been to. It’s going to be a challenge.

Most of my friends and family are ecstatic for me. Others have been shocked and, with confused looks on their faces, have asked: “Why Bangladesh? Isn’t the country poor and dangerous?” In most respects they are right. Bangladesh and Dhaka in particular has large slum areas and abject poverty is evident as you walk the streets. Bangladesh is also gearing up for elections in September and there have been recent outbreaks of violence, protests and strikes. I know all this and I’m still excited to go. In fact these are the least of my concerns at the moment.

To be honest I didn’t really know much about Bangladesh before I started my application, besides it being the birth place of micro-credit thanks to Muhammad Yunus. For those who don’t know, Bangladesh is predominately Muslim and therefore women dress modestly. Bengali people can be very shy and consuming alcohol isn’t the norm. Bangladesh’s culture you could say is the opposite of here in Australia where women wear shorts and strappy tops, people are outspoken and Friday knock off drinks are a given.  And more worryingly some aspects of Bangladesh’s culture are the opposite of my personality and beliefs. This is why I’m freaking out. I’m afraid I’m going to find myself in a situation where I will want to step in and say something about women’s rights or start a joke with “three guys walked into a bar…” I’m crazy right? I should be stressing about getting mugged, learning a new language or the city flooding but instead I’m worrying about accepting and assimilating into another culture. It’s one thing to understand a culture and another to accept it, to stand back and let things be especially when it’s not a matter of right and wrong but simply another way of doing things. In know this experience is going to be a huge learning curve and I’m going to remain open to seeing a different point of view. I have been in these situations before and I know they normally end in laughs – not tears – but I still can’t help but be nervous.

It can be hard to prepare for the unknown so I just keep telling myself I can handle whatever is thrown my way. I’ve been trying to distract myself by concentrating on getting through my to-do list which I swear is getting longer and tackling the pre-departure forms that are covering my coffee table. So far it’s doing ok although I do have a slip up now and again when I go into a panic spiral about everything I have to do, buy and scan. But I know these feelings are normal and I just need to breathe.

Despite the challenges I can’t wait to meet my team, make new friends, try spicy food and wear a Shalwar Kameez - the traditional dress for women. But what I’m looking forward to the most? Landing in Dhaka, stepping off the plane and having that homely feeling wash over me… and knowing everything is going to be ok.

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Pet hates: The four things that make me irrationally apoplectic

This was originally written for and is featured on The Peach.

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Everyone has their own pet hates right? The things that make you squirm, run the other way or scream “Dammit did you have to? REALLY!” I’ve got my fair share which I blame on my OCD tendencies.

Last week I was shocked, no saddened…or maybe a little ashamed, when I realised I had committed four of my biggest pet hates all in one week. I tried to come up with excuses for myself but I wasn’t stressed or PMSing and I got 10 hours of blissful sleep each night. When I thought long and hard about what I had done I realised that my pet hates where pretty much committed by everyone. Which meant I didn’t have to be so hard on myself (YAY) but on the other hand I shouldn’t be so hard on others either. So if I have growled or whinged and shook my head in disgust at you for doing these things I’m sorry. We are all human…I guess.

So here are my four biggest pet hates. Basically shit we all find SO annoying when it happens to US but don’t realise when WE are doing it.

Leaving your trolley in the middle of the aisle unattended when you are grocery shopping

Seriously people.  How hard is it to keep your trolley with you? Too many times I have been tripped AND pulled a hamstring trying to grab a can of baked beans while leaning over an abandoned trolley, to let this continue. I really wish someone would create a trolley with a sensor that required you to have one hand on it at all times. If you just so happened to let go and wander off it would start beeping  that high pitch sound that makes you want to cry (you know the one) until you came back to claim it.  You’d be so embarrassed and deaf that you’d never dare leave it in the middle of the aisle again. Think of what you are putting your poor fellow shoppers through. You are literally tempting certain others* into stealing the packet of Oreos from your trolley that they totally wanted but saw you pick up and upon reaching the spot realised they were the last ones. But hey, finders keepers right?

Walking slowly along the footpath while checking your Facebook notifications on your phone

I get it. You’re popular! You get like 50 notifications a day and people are literally holding their breath waiting for you to respond. Because that’s the only reason I can think of that would excuse you for dawdling along the footpath blocking people like moi from getting passed. I’m sorry, I’ve got shit to do and places to be. I wish I had time to laugh and exclaim “OMG” at my phone too but I don’t so move it. They say social media is changing the way we communicate which I totally agree with but I’m starting to think it’s changing our motor functions too. Soon we are going to need a ‘using my phone while walking’ lane next to the bike lane so inpatient people who like to stride can get on with their day. Does someone know who I can contact about this?

Not flushing after you’ve used a public toilet

I’m guessing we are all guilty of this one, yes?  Having to pee in a public toilet is about the only time I wish I was male. I usually wait to the very last minute out of hope that I will find a shiny, disinfected shopping mall to do my business. When my hope turns into abdominal cramps I give in and make my way to the cobwebbed, cold and musty smelling shed. And after finally managing to get the door open and then locked (I do this by pushing the door open with my foot and then using my elbow to turn the lock around – I never touch ANYTHING in those places with my hands) I peer over the bowl. Lovely, this must be what being a naughty kid feels like on Christmas except instead of coal I get… I don’t blame anyone for not wanting to touch the flush button but if we don’t do it ladies then we really do make it harder on ourselves. Might I suggest carrying a bottle of hand sanitiser in your bag? It really is your best friend after situations like this one.

Reading the newspaper over someone’s shoulder on the train

You’ve forgotten your book and you’ve read all the important updates on Twitter so you find yourself glancing around the train counting down the minutes when you notice a newspaper headline “Chrissie Swan confesses to smoking while pregnant.” She what? You can’t believe it.  She has to have her reasons right? But what are they? Without realising you lean in closer and start reading your neighbours newspaper. She starts to flick the page and you tilt your head quickly scanning down trying to grasp at words before it is too late. You look up and realise your neighbour is giving you a death stare and has moved so her back is facing you and you can’t read over her shoulder anymore. That person who was trying to quietly enjoying reading her morning paper is ME. And I don’t like feeling your breath on my neck. It grosses me out and makes me itchy. Why don’t you Google it?  Isn’t that what most people do these days read the newspaper on their phone? What’s the world coming too when I can’t even catch public transport without feeling my privacy and personal space has been invaded. Sigh.

Am I being too harsh?

What are your pet hates? Share with me!

*I have never actually taken an item from someone’s abandoned trolley. So if you’ve had something go missing it wasn’t me. On the other hand, I am guilty of loving the saying ‘I told you so.’

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Living my dream isn’t easy

This was originally written for and is featured on The Peach.

“The most dangerous risk of all – the risk of spending your life not doing what you want on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.” – Randy Komisar

I don’t see myself as a risk taker. But a few months ago I read that quote and it made me sit up and think. I realised that I could be taking the biggest risk of all – putting my dreams on hold in the hope I will have the chance to follow them later.

But what if ‘later’ never comes?

So at the first opportunity I decided to risk it all, by conventional standards, to go after my dream. I thought to myself: what’s the worst thing that could happen? I have everything to gain- happiness, fulfillment and knowing what I’m doing is right.

working from home

Working from home is fun but it can also be lonely.

My dream has always been to be a writer. I want to use my words to tell stories that otherwise would be left untold. I first decided I wanted to be a writer when I was about 10 years old. I was watching an ABC documentary on female genital mutilation in Ethiopia with my mum. I actually watched most of it through the cracks of my fingers as I had my hand to my face ready to hide behind if it got too much. It was shocking and confronting for me to watch another girl go through what can only be described as brutality. When the program ended I asked my mum why they would do that to a girl. She replied she didn’t know. I was furious.  After that I thought to myself I’m going to find out and then tell everyone.

The years since have been carefully planned in the hope that it would lead me to my dream. I read as much as I could. I went to university and I’ve spent the last five years working in marketing and communications across various sectors.

When I look back at my career I remember weighing up the risks of going after my dream against taking a job opportunity and sometimes I was forced to make sacrifices, like taking a role I wasn’t passionate in because I needed the money. I justified taking the safer path by telling myself I’d be able to save or that the organisation would look good on my CV and help me get my dream job later on. I kept doing this even when I had a feeling in my stomach that I wanted and needed more. Others told me I had all the time in the world to do what I wanted and I believed them. But as I’ve grown older and the years have merged together I’ve realised that isn’t true.

When I recently began working for NGOs I thought my dream had come true. I’d never been so close to achieving it before.  I was passionate and eager to be finally writing stories that mattered. So I was shocked when the feeling in my stomach returned. Why had it come back? For months I wished it to go away. I was afraid if I said anything that I’d be told I need to learn to appreciate what I’ve got. When I did say something, people told me to stick with it. That it was a phase and you need to put in the hard time to get where you want to be. When I asked them if they were living their dream they shrugged or mentioned their next promotion or savings. I tried to push through but I recognised I was no longer being fulfilled and inspired. And it was starting to show. So when my contracted ended I decided I was going to risk it all to follow my dream.

Remember when I said what’s the worst that could happen? Well I never expected to chew through all my savings and become dependent on my partner. Asking him for money for the first time the other day made me feel pretty shit. He’s so supportive but I feel like I’m not pulling my weight in the relationship anymore. But the worst thing would have to be job hunting. I’m sick of getting called either over qualified or under qualified. Here I was thinking I was just plain old qualified. I fight with myself everyday over whether to even apply for a job – do it you need the money…wait don’t because it’s not what you want. Some days I doubt myself and my dream. I wonder why I can’t just be happy doing any old nine to five job. Others do it.  And then I remember the quote.

After a few months off I realise that while the last few years I’ve been writing, I haven’t really been writing as me – my voice, feelings and ideas. And that’s what I’ve needed. I’ve also come to realise that I’m one of the lucky ones because I know what I need and I have a dream. While it’s been difficult so far – I often feel alone and people question my decision- I know taking a risk was the right thing to do. Putting off my dream any longer would be risker.

I think many of us put on hold the things we love in the hope to enjoy them later. But to do so is taking a massive risk. Because what happens if ‘later’ never comes?

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A world without libraries

It’s now possible to imagine a world without libraries.

It’s a sad thought.

I love libraries but I haven’t needed to borrow a book in years. I still have a state library card for Tasmania. It’s tucked away in my purse along with my Blockbuster card which I too have no use for. I’ve thought about throwing them away-as they are taking up valuable card space- but I can’t bring myself to do it.

It’s a reminder of how far technology has come.

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I no longer rely on non-fiction books for my studies. Instead I use online journals and publications for a number of reasons: they contain the most recent information, are accessible from home 24-7, are peer reviewed and I can use a key word search to quickly establish if they have the information I need.  The library in comparison has limited copies of books, borrowing times and various classification systems. If I had to decide between online databases and a library I’d choose databases.

As I’ve mentioned before reading has been a big part of my life and I go crazy if I don’t relax with a book. I used to borrow fiction books from the library by the bag full but now I find myself either buying them for a few dollars at a second hand bookstore or downloading them on my kindle in a matter of minutes. Speed, ease of access and limitless titles on online book stores means I no longer rely on libraries to get my fix. I even have my own virtual library now as my friends and I loan our kindle books with each other.

While I can accept (just) that we may find ourselves in a world without libraries I wonder what, if anything, will take their place. Although we were once drawn to libraries based on our desire for knowledge I think we are also seeking a sense of community- a space to discuss ideas or simply sit quietly surrounded by others.

As we spend more time building our online communities I can’t help but think we are neglecting real world ones. Where will we go when we are seeking social interaction if community spaces like libraries are gone? Maybe I’m being selfish. I don’t even use libraries so why should I care? I do because I have the best of both worlds. And future generations may not.

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Going to school was a way for me to escape the reality of life

This was originally written for and is featured on The Peach.  This piece has been republished with permission on WhyDev.

I JUST finished reading Half The Sky which I highly recommend to anyone wanting to learn more about gender inequality. I couldn’t put the book down. I was captivated by stories of young girls who had endured great suffering, endless set-backs and continued oppression, yet were determined to lead a better life.

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Me visiting a school in the Kiberia slums, Kenya. I work with Nia Children’s Foundation to ensure these children have access to an education and daily nutritious meals. http://niachildrensfoundation.org/

The authors, Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn – a married couple with backgrounds in journalism – wrote the book to raise awareness of women’s issues, but to also provide concrete steps to fight these problems and empower women. They address a number of issues from sex trafficking, maternal mortality and education by using first account stories from girls and women.

The section on education was particularly powerful and made me reflect on my own education and that of my family. I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to go to school in a developing country and I acknowledge poverty has a whole different meaning outside Australia, yet I still noticed similarities. In both my story and those I read, education paved the way to a better life.

I recently learned that my grandfather on my mother’s side was illiterate. He had received little education and didn’t value it. My grandmother had a basic primary education but unfortunately she didn’t proceed to high school (I’ve been told only one girl and one boy out of the class were picked to go to high school). My mother, the last child of five, hated school and although she went to high school she barely made it to class before she dropped out in grade nine. From here, she went to a secretarial school followed by a short stint in the army before marrying my father. By 26, my current age, she’d been married for seven years had had three children and still to this day she has never left Australia.

I on the other hand have a bachelor degree and I’m on my way to completing my Masters in International Development. I’m unmarried, childless and living with my partner. I have travelled extensively and have lived overseas. But most importantly I love school. I love reading, learning and experiencing new things.

I remember my grandmother telling me as a little girl that education comes first, and she made me promise to try my hardest at school. I look back on my school days fondly. Going to school was a way for me to escape my everyday life. I grew up in a low-socio economic area where drug and alcohol abuse were common and physical and verbal abuse were the norm. I was lucky that my parents could see the benefits of education and they supported my love for school. I have only missed a handful of days across my school years. Even if my mother said I could stay home because I was sick I’d beg her to go. I was afraid that if I didn’t go I’d miss something important.

I often got teased in primary school because I was wearing a second hand uniform and I didn’t have the latest toys. On numerous occasions teachers paid out of their own pocket for me to go on excursions. I stopped asking my mother for the money because I didn’t like seeing her rummaging around in her purse for $2 and then not eating dinner because she “wasn’t hungry.” One of my high school teachers noticed I struggled in spelling so he offered to give me extra lessons at lunch time. Again, I got help in college when I didn’t have a computer. I’d would write essays out by hand and then re-write them. It would take me twice as long to complete an assignment compared to my class mates so my teachers ended up giving me permission to use the computer labs after hours to complete my work. If it wasn’t for the kindness of my teachers I don’t know if I would be where I am today.

Thanks to our amazing supporters, these children are now happier and healthier.

Thanks to our amazing supporters these children are now happier and healthier.

I often wonder how I ended up with such a great life. I’m educated, healthy and have a steady income. This compared to some of my school friends who are now in gaol, unemployed, are living below the poverty line with large families and/or are recovering addicts. My mother over the years has suffered health problems and has had trouble securing well-paying jobs. I believe -as she does- that a solid education would have prevented some of these challenges. I realise now that when others were trying cigarettes, drinking and joining gangs I was at home alone at my desk reading.

Education gave me a better life.

It makes me sad when I read that more than 75 million primary school-age children are not in school. The majority of these children are girls living in sub-Saharan Africa and South Asia. There are many reasons for this discrepancy, including families wanting a girl’s help in the house, the cost of education and the fact that girls tend to drop out of school at higher rates. When schools are far away, parents may also hesitate to allow their daughters to walk the long distances alone.

But education is vital. It has been shown that girls who receive an education have increased job opportunities and higher wages. Those who pursue secondary education are at a significantly lower risk of engaging in crime or falling victim to human trafficking. Educated women have also been shown to marry later and have fewer children.

Although my story happened in Australia, millions of kilometres from the girl’s stories I read about in Half The Sky, I can’t help but see the similarities. If it wasn’t for the help and encouragement of others, I don’t know if I would be where I am today. And if it wasn’t for awareness, aid and a desire for change, more children around the world would be missing out on an education.

What role has education played in your life?

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