I Am Malala: The Story of the Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban

We realize the importance of our voices only when we are silenced.

One child, one teacher, one book, one pen can change the world.

When the whole world is silent, even one voice becomes powerful.

Education is education. We should learn everything and then choose which path to follow." Education is neither Eastern nor Western, it is human.

If one man can destroy everything, why can't one girl change it?

Let us pick up our books and our pens, they are the most powerful weapons.

Once I had asked God for one or two extra inches in height, but instead he made me as tall as the sky, so high that I could not measure myself.

We human beings don't realize how great God is. He has given us an extraordinary brain and a sensitive loving heart. He has blessed us with two lips to talk and express our feelings, two eyes which see a world of colours and beauty, two feet which walk on the road of life, two hands to work for us, and two ears to hear the words of love. As I found with my ear, no one knows how much power they have in their each and every organ until they lose one.

My mother always told me," hide your face people are looking at you." I would reply," it does not matter; I am also looking at them.

Let us pick up our books and our pens,” I said. “They are our most powerful weapons. One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world.

I told myself, Malala, you have already faced death. This is your second life. Don't be afraid — if you are afraid, you can't move forward.

Our men think earning money and ordering around others is where power lies. They don't think power is in the hands of the woman who takes care of everyone all day long, and gives birth to their children.

Life isn't just about taking in oxygen and giving out carbon dioxide.

He believed that lack of education was the root of all of Pakistan’s problems. Ignorance allowed politicians to fool people and bad administrators to be re-elected.

I don't want to be thought of as the "girl who was shot by the Taliban" but the "girl who fought for education." This is the cause to which I want to devote my life.

The Taliban could take our pens and books, but they couldn’t stop our minds from thinking.

We liked to be known as the clever girls. When we decorated our hands with henna for holidays and weddings, we drew calculus and chemical formulae instead of flowers and butterflies.

Outside his office my father had a framed copy of a letter written by Abraham Lincoln to his son’s teacher, translated into Pashto. It is a very beautiful letter, full of good advice. “Teach him, if you can, the wonder of books…But also give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and the flowers on a green hillside,” it says. “Teach him it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat.

We were scared, but our fear was not as strong as our courage.

There are two powers in the world; one is the sword and the other is the pen. There is a third power stronger than both, that of women.

In Pakistan when women say they want independence, people think this means we don’t want to obey our fathers, brothers or husbands. But it does not mean that. It means we want to make decisions for ourselves. We want to be free to go to school or to go to work. Nowhere is it written in the Quran that a woman should be dependent on a man. The word has not come down from the heavens to tell us that every woman should listen to a man.

When someone takes away your pens you realize quite how important education is.

I reassured my mother that it didn’t matter to me if my face was not symmetrical. Me, who had always cared about my appearance, how my hair looked! But when you see death, things change. “It doesn’t matter if I can’t smile or blink properly,” I told her. “I’m still me, Malala. The important thing is God has given me my life.

I don't want awards, I want my daughter. I wouldn't exchange a single eyelash of my daughter for the whole world.

I couldn’t understand what the Taliban were trying to do. “They are abusing our religion,” I said in interviews. “How will you accept Islam if I put a gun to your head and say Islam is the true religion? If they want every person in the world to be Muslim, why don’t they show themselves to be good Muslims first?

His sisters -- my aunts -- did not go to school at all, just like millions of girls in my country. Education had been a great gift for him. He believed that lack of education was the root of all of Pakistan's problems. Ignorance allowed politicians to fool people and bad administrators to be re-elected. He believed schooling should be available for all, rich and poor, boys and girls. The school that my father dreamed of would have desks and a library, computers, bright posters on the walls and, most important, washrooms.

I was a girl in a land where rifles are fired in celebration of a son, while daughters are hidden away behind a curtain, their role in life simply to prepare food and give birth to children.

One year ago I left my home for school and never returned.

Me habían regalado un libro de Paulo Coelho... "Cuando quieres algo, todo el universo se conjura para que realices tu deseo", dice. Creo que Paulo Coelho no se ha topado nunca con los talibanes y nuestros políticos inútiles.

What a strange world it was when a girl who wanted to go to school had to defy militants with machine guns - as well as her own family.

Perhaps that's because I do not remember a thing about the shooting. Not a single thing. The doctors and nurses offered complicated explanations for why I didn't recall the attack. They said the brain protects us from memories that are too painful to remember. Or, they said, my brain might have shut down as soon as I was injured. I love science, and I love nothing more than asking question upon question to figure out the way things work. But I don't need science to figure out why I don't remember the attack. I know why: God is kind to me.

If you help someone in need you might also receive unexpected aid.

I might have been calm, but my dear father was near tears. 'Are you all right, jani?' he said. 'Aba,' I said, trying to reassure him. 'Everybody knows they will die someday. No one can stop death. It doesn't matter if it comes from a Talib or from cancer.

I would run to rejoin the children. Especially when it was time for the kite-flying contests- where the boys would skilfully try to cut down their competitors' kite strings. It plunges. It was beautiful, and also a bit melancholy for me to see the pretty kites sputter to the ground. Maybe it was because I could see a future that would be cut down just like those kites- simply because I was a girl.

As I watched my brothers run up to the roof to launch their kites, I wondered how free I could ever really be.

I had grown up hearing the word terrorism, but I never really understood what it meant. Until now. Terrorism is different from war-where soldiers face one another in battle. Terrorism is fear all around you. It is going to sleep at night and not knowing what horrors the next day will bring.