I recently read this book after hearing much buzz about it.

The day that I got it into my hands, was the day that I was immersed in it.

I am fascinated by Malala and her story.

What an absolutely amazing girl.

and when I say that i was IMMERSED in it, i mean i took it EVERYWHERE i went.

Like EVERYWHERE…..and that includes working out! haha

Here’s a brief summary of what it is about:

“When the Taliban took control of the Swat Valley in Pakistan, one girl spoke out.

Malala Yousafzai refused to be silenced and fought for her right to an education.

On Tuesday, October 9, 2012, when she was fifteen, she almost paid the ultimate price.

She was shot in the head at point-blank range while riding the bus home from school, and few expected her to survive.

Instead, Malala’s miraculous recovery has taken her on an extraordinary journey

from a remote valley in northern Pakistan to the halls of the United Nations in New York.

At sixteen, she has become a global symbol of peaceful protest and the youngest-ever Nobel Peace Prize laureate.”

Malala’s story is one that is so fascinating, beautiful, and powerful. Upon reading her book, I just HAD to save some of the beautiful things she said.

Below is my review of the book and my favorites quotes from it.

The Taliban shot me to try to silence me. Instead, the whole world is listening to my message now.

Yes, the Taliban shot me, BUT they can only shoot a body.

They cannot shoot my dreams, they cannot kill my beliefs, and they cannot stop my campaign to see every girl in school.

I don’t want to be known as “the girl shot by the Taliban, but instead as “the girl who fought for education”.

When a boy is born in Pakistan, it’s cause for celebration.

Guns are fired in the air.

Gifts are placed in the baby’s cot.

And the boy’s name is inscribed on the family tree.

But when a girl is born, no one visits the parents,

and women have only sympathy for the mother.

I’m named for the great young Pashtun heroine Malalai, who inspired her countrymen with her courage.

My father’s words of praise have always been the most precious thing in the world to me.

The women of the village also had to hide their faces whenever they left their homes.

And they could not meet or speak to men who were not their close relatives.

None of them could read. Even my own mother, who’d grown up in the village, couldn’t read.

Some went so far as to wear black gloves and socks so that not a bit of skin was showing.

I’d seen the wives be required to walk a few paces behind their husbands.

I’d seen the women be forced to lower their gaze when they encountered a man.

And I’d seen the older girls who’d been our playmates disappear behind veils as soon as they became teenagers.

Many of the girls in the village- including most of my own cousins- didn’t go to school.

Some father’s don’t even think of their daughters as valued members of their families.

“Why send a daughter to school?” the men often say. “She doesn’t need an education to run a house”.

When I saw how hard these women’s lives were, I was confused and sad.

Why were women treated so poorly in our country?

I asked my father this, and he told me that life was even worse for women in Afghanistan,

where a group called the Taliban had taken over the country.

Schools for girls had been burned to the ground,

and all women were forced to wear a severe form of a burqua, 

a head-to-toe veil that had only a tiny fabric grille for their eyes.

Women were banned from laughing out loud or wearing nail polish,

and they were beaten or jailed for walking without a male family member.

I asked God for the strength and courage to make the world a better place.

We didn’t know where our education would take us. All we wanted was a chance to learn in peace.

Banners that read WOMEN NOT ALLOWED were strung up at the entrance to the market.

All music and electronics shops were shut down.

Fazlullah kept up his attacks, saying that girls who went to school were not good Muslims- that we would go to hell.

My father said he was going to a meeting that night to speak out against the Taliban.

And after that he would travel to Islamabad to take the government to task for not protecting it’s citizens. 

My father, a simple principal, was taking on the two most powerful and dangerous forces in the country.

What have I done wrong that I should be afraid?

All I want to do is go to school.

And that is not a crime.

That is my RIGHT.

I told myself, “I will continue this journey of fighting for peace and democracy in my country”. I was only ten, but I would find a way.

Before I went to bed, I asked God for one more thing.

Can I die a little bit and come back, so I can tell people about it?

He Googled my name.

Malala Yousafzai, the Taliban said, “should be killed”.

 It was an invitation from one terrorist to another saying, ” Go ahead, shoot her”.

My father was near tears and I responded, “Aba, everybody knows they will die someday.

No one can stop death.

It doesn’t matter if it comes from a Talib or from cancer”.

This was my calling.

Some powerful force had come to dwell inside me,

something bigger and stronger than me,

and it had made me fearless.