"Behind the Smile of Mojar School: The Stories We Don't Share Enough"

This morning began with a hospital visit.

A student from Class Six attempted suicide yesterday. Perhaps it’s only by the will of Allah that she survived.

Why did she see life as so worthless? Because her mother scolded her, slapped her. And why did the mother do that? The girl wasn’t studying at home, wasn’t attending school regularly, and had become addicted to mobile phones.

This isn’t new. For generations, such situations have been repeating. Now, some of them make it to the news. But when parenting and the environment fall out of sync, tragedies happen.

Last year, a student named Shanta another child of mine, ended her life in the same way. Incidents like these don’t just scare me—they haunt me.

Whether I say it out loud or not, every day I start my morning as a guardian of education for 2,300 children. Running a team, raising funds, and sustaining মজার ইশকুল :: Mojar School successfully, my work is never really done.

And my responsibility goes far beyond all of that. People my age often struggle with just one job and its pressure. But I carry thousands of unspoken burdens that I chose myself. There’s nowhere I can go to complain.

Sometimes I wonder, how do I still manage to stay okay while starting the day with this kind of pressure? Maybe Mojar School has made me age twice as fast.

For now, the girl is stable and safe. Since yesterday, our team has been with her, admission, care, follow-up, everything. Today I went myself. I gave a small amount of cash, not for gifts or fruits, but to help with real needs. That seemed more meaningful.