National Health Inequality

Celebrating my 90th

As I approach my 91^st birthday, I have, surprisingly to myself, but perhaps inevitably to others, been thinking about the pros and cons; the ‘how’ and ‘why’, of living a long life. It doesn’t require a PhD in health economics to acknowledge no one would opt for a long and unhealthy life but, if one accepts the desirability of a long and healthy life, how might that be acquired?

This is not a question with which I have wrestled yet now, on reflection both in mirror and memory, I see, to a degree, that I have attained that. I take no regular medication, have had no major operations nor suffered from malfunctions of heart and lungs nor other appendages like legs, arms, feet, hands etc. The one major hiccough for me, important and unexpected, was the M.E. which stopped me in m
y tracks in my mid-fifties. Myalgic Encephalomyelitis came after I had worked over-long but happy hours every week during a quarter of a century, both professionally in education, and personally, with family and relationships. M.E. cut me down like a tall flower felled, taking energy and immediacy of action, removing my career and reducing my personal life to that of an elderly invalid. I experienced degrees of illness for around three years, but it took 20+ more years for M.E. to very gradually dissipate. During this long period, I certainly developed both physical and mental awareness of how to avoid the onset, and deal with the effects, of M.E. and I do wonder if the reflection and habits then perforce, developed, contributed to the subsequent long years of good health. Almost certainly. I never gave a thought, in my earlier years, to eating well, sleeping well, avoiding negative stress, exercising etc which I now consciously see as essential but also as normal. 

NHS emphasising Prevention 

The spur to my current introspection is twofold. First, the announcement this week that the Government, aka Keir Starmer and Wes Streeting, wants to turn the emphasis of the NHS from
treatment to prevention, an entirely admirable undertaking. Second, The Guardian, 30/06/2025, which yesterday featured details of an in-depth enquiry into National Health Inequality. The results were horrifying and depressing, starkly revealing that, despite the splendid N.H.S, founded on the principle of providing healthcare free at the point of need, still poverty and ignorance produce vast disparities in health outcomes. But individual poverty and ignorance are not the sole determinants, as the following list demonstrates:

1.      1. Poverty certainly. Relative poverty is one of the strongest predictors of poor health outcomes. Food insecurity, poor housing and probably limited access to healthcare are more likely to be experienced by the poor.

Sub-standard housing

.     2  2 Education. Lower educational attainment is linked to poorer health literacy, limited employment prospects and increased risk of unhealthy behaviours.

3.      3  Employment. Job insecurity, hazardous work and unemployment are associated with higher rates of mental and physical health problems.

4.     4  Housing and Environment. Substandard housing, domestic overcrowding, exposure to air pollution, all disproportionately affect the poorest. For instance, men living in affluent Kensington and Chelsea, may outlive those from parts of Glasgow or Blackpool by more than a decade. Through a series of pioneering schemes in North-West England, clinicians have discovered what one NHS manager described as ‘mediaeval’ levels of untreated illness. In several poorer areas, GPs and community nurses have virtually disappeared, A&E attendances have almost doubled since 2010 driving up ambulance call-outs by 61%.

A&E overcrowding is common.

5.     5  Access to Healthcare. Theoretically, open to all in need, there are nonetheless, cultural linguistic, informational and sometimes, geographical, barriers to accessing the N.H.S.

6.      6 Lifestyle Factors such as smoking, excessive alcohol consumption, poor diet are all more prevalent among disadvantaged groups and ruthlessly targeted product advertising exacerbates difficulties in access to healthier options. 

Choices!

I set out to write a few musings on living a long and healthy life but seem to have strayed into a consideration of health inequality in national British life. The Guardian spent months interviewing GPs, nurses, social workers, NHS leaders, and academics, plus residents living in some of the most deprived areas in Britain, to assemble its National Health Inequality project, The results are deeply disturbing. One learns, for instance, that Britain has the lowest life expectancy in western Europe and one of the highest numbers among rich countries for preventable deaths. My next blog just has to be on the areas of worst deprivation in England as I silently appreciate the luck of my own life journey from poor working-class family with work-shy, angry, self-centred father, to still functioning nonagenarian. In all fairness I must add that echoes of my father’s better attributes; intelligence, exceptional memory, courage to stand alone, willingness to respond if threatened, may well have descended in part to me. I hope the less attractive qualities have not filtered down too but it is not for me to judge!

Ikigai

Perhaps more rules than I had imagined!

The Japanese philosophical concept of ikigai has its roots in Buddhist philosophy and traditional Japanese values. If we translate ikigai literally, it means ‘a reason to live’ and to the average Japanese person it is a commonplace that signifies, ‘seeking joy in little things.’ It is a concept that encourages people to discover what truly matters to them and to live a life filled with purpose and joy based on that. I seem, in these latest two or three blogs, to have seriously discovered the Japanese! It was in my reading about Tsundoku that I chanced across the concept of ikigai which implies that the meaning of life can be found through purpose and that purpose is found by finding joy in small things.

Until I read Young & Meaningful in Philosophy Now of June/July 2025, I would have accepted the Western interpretation of ikigai as an uncomplicated way for an individual to find happiness and purpose in life covering a whole range of needs, aesthetics, emotional resonance, tenacity, employment, etc.  But the author, Elise Beal, of Young and Meaningful, labels this view as ‘a grievous misinterpretation’ and she suggests that there is a deep difference which lies within the two societies' basic ideas of community, with a fundamental difference between Japan, a collectivist society, and the West, a society of individuals.  So, Japan’s highest societal value is placed within,and upon, the community while the highest Western societal value is placed upon the individual. This difference influences the meaning of ikigai which the West tends to see as an endpoint; an overarching goal of finding everyday truth that, once reached, will endow the person with a definite sense of purpose. Thus, the Western ikigai is a destination. The original, Japanese, meaning of finding small joys; the many, many little moments within a life, within a community, that makes a person appreciate his life, is founded on the idea that it is from this appreciation of one’s life that the purpose is born. Thus Japanese ikigai is woven into the texture of everyday life.

I am receptive to this Japanese interpretation of ikigai because I have felt, again and again, how incredibly lucky I am to have reached old age with the love of family, my personal community, around me. I have felt that warmth in earlier times almost without noticing it but latterly, with more leisure perhaps and certainly with a greater tendency to analyse the everyday, I notice it and give thanks! In addition, the philosophy of ikigai helps any individual to cheerfully face or at least, tolerate the less-than-cheerful texture of international news which negatively saturates the Internet and media. I think I have always been an optimistic person and the Western understanding of ikigai tends to enable, or at least, encourage, the individual to embrace and enliven and encompass the daily round of encounters and environs!

 

Ikigai is finding happiness in small things.

Elise Mayumi Beal is a high school student in San Jose, California. And a highly gifted individual too!

Tsundoku

 

When I moved to Bruges ten years ago, I had to reduce my number of bookshelves, and ergo, the number of books, which were an almost unnoticed, but valued, feature of life, I felt a real dread at the task ahead at first. However, on mature reflection, I found I could easily discard my husband’s professional volumes which he had treasured when he was alive, and many of mine; both collections were not required any more. But when I came to move on from Bruges where I lived in a capacious family flat, to Bury St Edmunds to a much smaller apartment, the nine or ten much-loved bookshelves had to shrink to five with the concomitant shedding of yet more books. I did find this difficult because some books had to go which I still loved, had read and consulted, and perhaps would use no more but, just possibly, might need! They were, in fact, old friends, bringing wisdom and knowledge and importantly, evoking lovely memories. And, moreover, I loved them as part of the familiar décor of my living; books look good, familiar and somehow, comforting, and they also send implicit messages to the visitor of the possible intellect of the owner! So perhaps a touch of unconscious vanity there?

A serious example of Tsundoku

But, in another nod to the Japanese, I have stumbled over the existence of a marvellous word, ‘Tsundoku’ with ‘tsundu’ meaning ‘to pile up’ and ‘doku’ to read. The whole word describes the phenomenon of acquiring books and then letting them pile up on the floor or shelf, without reading them. Apparently, initially, tsundoku had a playful tone. It was first coined by writer, Mori Senzo, to cast aspersions on a teacher who was proud of his large library though he rarely read any of his books. For him, the teacher, the sheer joy of choosing and buying books, was more appealing than in actually settling down to read them! Thus, he was more of an avid collector rather than the voracious reader the casual observer might have concluded he wa,s after noting the size of his library!   

Encountering the word ‘tsundoku’ has really made me reflect!  I think I believe that the allowing of books to pile up, unread, is not necessarily because of neglect, but rather,temporarily deferred, as a source of joy and anticipation; unknown stories waiting to be discovered! Though the danger lurking there is that if the pile of books keeps growing, I imagine it could bring further stress as a constant, visual reminder of something we have not done yet but should be doing, or beginning to do, at least.   But for now, tsundoku has become a term to describe a universally acknowledged phenomenon which has spread far beyond Japan.

A fraction of my small collection, shelfless in Bury.

Benjamin's library card from the Bibliotheque
Nationale de France 1940.
After Paris fell to the Nazis, Benjamin fled to Spain 
but desolate without home and  his beloved books, he 
committed suicide in the Pyrenees in 1940.

In his splendid Unpacking My Library, Walter Benjamin writes eloquently of books, of collecting, of libraries, and I will no doubt return to him and his bookish philosophising. After moving house, he wrote,“The books are not yet on the shelves, not yet touched by the mild boredom of order. I cannot march up and down their ranks to pass them in review before a friendly audience.” Walter Benjamin's whole life was writing and books.

In fact, there are many well-known writers who unsurprisingly confess to loving books, lusting after those not yet acquired, fondly remembering book-mad parents who filled the house with the results of their eccentric collections. In short, there are innumerable hymns of joy to books. I have recently come across what I think of as a ‘modern word’; 'non-fungible' and the definition is ‘non-fungible items have distinct characteristics that make them one of a kind.’ And that seems to me to be one perfect description of a book’

Collection in unruly formation

Overflow

Part of one of my remaining shelves

Part Two: Going Dutch.

Woodblock print by Utagawa Kunisada
1847

Dutch factory at Dejima

 

Despite the restrictions placed on foreign trade and relations, Japan after 1639 was not entirely closed to foreign influence.  The Portuguese, despite their huge importance in Japan’s history, had not been the only Europeans to establish trade in Japan. The first Dutch ship arrived in 1600 and the Dutch East India Company [the Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie; the VOC], formed in 1602, opened a trading factory in Hirado in September 1609 and following the expulsion of the Portuguese in 1639, they became the only Europeans allowed to remain in Japan although their presence was strictly limited. They were forced to move to Dejima, a tiny artificial island in Nagasaki Bay where they remained under Japanese scrutiny, with access to Dejima by locals interested in seeing these exotic Europeans, limited to local officials and courtesans. However, true to their mercantile nature and in spite of political ctosswinds, Dutch paintings and more commonly, woodblock prints, continued to be 

Early 17th century Japanese blue and white porcelain

                                             available for sale to all!

Antique lacquered tea set. Kyoto.

Although the chief purpose of trade with Japan was mainly for Europe to obtain their gold, silver and copper, the luxury goods produced by Japanese craftsmen to a very high standard, had a huge appeal and these quickly became a significant part of the goods shipped back to the West. Lacquer was unknown in the West and the Portuguese quickly saw its decorative potential and began to commission objects designed to appeal to the European market. The early nanban lacquer goods for the Portuguese were not of the usual high Japanese standard as the trade potential of lacquer was initially underestimated by the Japanese, but there are examples on museum display today of high-quality lacquer objects made for the Dutch during the 1630s and early 1640s.

Kakiemon ware.
The most famous Kakiemon designs were often asymmetrical
Exported to Europe by the Dutch, Kakiemon signficantly
influenced the early decorative styles of
Chelsea, Bow and Worcester pottery in England.

Although lacquered objects were highly sought after, they were always of secondary importance to the porcelain first made in Arita in the north of Kyushu. This porcelain, influenced heavily by the Chinese and Korean, was entirely different from earlier Japanese ceramics. The decoration on the early Japanese blue and white export pottery closely followed Chinese models with some incorporating the initials VOC, the monogram of the Dutch East India Company. Another type of Japanese porcelain was Kakiemon ware, characterised by simple, often asymmetrical designs using bright colours including red, light blue, bluish green and yellow with sometimes a little gilding; all on a fine white background. Again, several Kakiemon enamelling studios wete situated in Arita. This was the costliest and most sought-after type of Japanese porcelain exported to Europe by the Dutch, and widely copied by the Dutch, German, French and English potteries.

The most iconic woodblock image for Europeans: 
The Wave off the Coast of Kanigawa
by Hokusai, c 1831.

When the Shogun, (military ruler) Tokugawa Yoshimune (1684-1751) eventually relaxed the rules regarding the importation of foreign books, the Dutch and their scientific knowledge became the subject of both Japanese scholarly enquiry and popular interest. And the latter half of the 18^th century saw the development of rangaku or ‘Dutch learning’ which became an important intellectual alternative to the prevalent China-based discussion. The Dutch, though ‘only merchants’ received the rare honour of regular audiences with the Shogun, and the taste for ‘Dutch things’ became widespread and varied, with images of Europeans appearing on fashionable items such as combs and netsuke [miniature sculptures]. For most Japanese, the rangaku represented the new and the fashionable with the Dutch, highly regarded.

Geisha in a Hurry.
Woodblock print by Utagawa Kunisyasu
c 1816

Modern lacquerware A4 storage box
combining beauty with functionality

In understanding the reaction of Japanese culture to that of other Western nations, emphasis is often placed on the polarity between ‘native’ and ‘foreign’ but a brief overview also shows a journey of the ‘foreign’ and ‘exciting’ moving from the ‘strange and different’ to one of gradual acceptance and a consistent pattern of assimilation and absorption emerges. The Dutch, like the Portuguese before them, had a significant effect on the culture of the Edo period but the confidence and trust inspired by the Dutch was heavily influenced by that nation's relentless mercantilism and lack of religious desire to proselytize. 

N.B. These two little essays on Japan began with the intention of discovering the effect of Japanese on the English language, but I was side-tracked into the fascination of Japan’s early history, vis-à-vis foreigners; an important part of its historical narrative.

  

In the Beginning .... Part One.

 

 

Arrival of the Portuguese  1543
Painted according to traditional Japanese iconography;
the foreigners bring the treasure of health and happiness.

The first Europeans to arrive in Japan did so by accident rather than design. In 1543, a Portuguese ship was blown off course by a typhoon, shipwrecking the crew on an island called Tanegashima off the south-western coast of Japan. Somewhere, there will be a whole narrative describing the sailors’ unexpected lives on a Japanese island but suffice it to say now, that the Portuguese, ever the market traders, quite soon established more formal, commercial traffic through the major port of Nagasaki and again, in the vanguard of the contemporary imperative for Christianity to conquer the world, in 1549, the Jesuit priest, Father Francis Xavier ( 1506-1552) arrived to found the first Christian mission in Japan and begin a centuries-long connection between the Jesuits and Japan.

'Foreigners' arriving in Nagasaki
wearing strange clothes.

Saint Francis Xavier 1506-1552
Co-founder of the Jesuits

The Portuguese also introduced new forms of artistic expression to Japan such as oil painting, the organ, theatre and literature. The Japanese created original works inspired by Portuguese culture like the namban byobu which depicted scenes from the lives of the Portuguese in Japan and the nanban bungaku reflecting on the cultural and religious differences between the two peoples. Music too was an area of cultural exchange; the Jesuits taught the Japanese, Gregorian chant and polyphonic music and the use of musical instruments such as the organ, violin and flute.

Japanese depiction of the Portuguese
as 'the other', wearing eccentric
balloon-like trousers.

The fascination aroused by the arrival of the Europeans is revealed in many objects of late sixteenth/early seventeenth cultural objects such as in decorated screens, flasks and stirrups. These decorations usually showed what the artist imagined the object or person to resemble, they never having seen an actual foreigner or a specific foreign object. In the images here, the Portuguese are shown with long noses and balloon-like trousers on a screen produced in Kyoto, the capital, not in Nagasaki where the nanban-jin, the foreigners, had arrived. Similarly, in the image on the screen [above] depicting the arrival of the Portuguese, their ship is shown bringing wealth and happiness from over the seas while the sailors are the bearers of good fortune; all of this is

in accordance with  traditional Japanese iconography.

17th century Japanese matchlock musket,
copied from the Portuguese.

But the Portuguese also brought modern weapons like the matchlock guns and these sophisticated killing arms had a significant impact during the Japanese civil war in the early Edo period, 1615-1868. Japan’s feuding warlords quickly recognised the power of the matchlock and within a decade, guns were being produced in Japan in large numbers. Traditional Japanese armour was relatively powerless against the new guns and so heavier, Western armour-plate was widely copied.

Traditional Japanese helmet and
neck guard.

The arrival of Christianity had a profound effect on Japan. Father Francis’s mission became the most successful in Asia and by the early 1590s, there were an estimated 215,000 Japanese Christians. The
Imperial Regent of Japan, Toyotomi Hideoshi (1537-1598) began to sense that this popular Christian God was a threat to his authority, and he issued a decree expelling all Christians, which, though never fully carried out, triggered the persecution and executions of Christians under the later rule of Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542-1616) and his successors, culminating in the outlawing of Christianity in 1614 and the execution of thousands of martyrs, among them the 26 saints of Japan who were crucified at Nagasake in 1597. In 1637/8, following a failed Christian uprising, all Japanese Christians were forced to renounce their religion or be executed as Christianity presented a perceived threat. During this period, Japanese Christians kept their faith secret, forming communities of Kakure Kirishitan, hidden Christians, who survived for centuries without contact with the outside world.

 Franciscan missionaries
persecuted in Japan 1597.

 From 1639, under the sakoku or ‘closed country’ policy, all Portuguese were forbidden entry to the country as were missionaries, and most foreign trade was prohibited. This policy of national seclusion, sakoku, was considered essential to maintaining political stability under the Tokugawa Shogunate and continued for almost two centuries with trade restricted to Chinese and Dutch merchants only. The Dutch were seen as less of a political threat than other Europeans, as they were primarily interested in trade and did not attempt to convert the Japanese to Christianity.

Japanese women and Dutch traders await the arrival
of a Dutch ship being towed into harbour at Dejima.

 

From Anime to Zen

 Anime= a style of Japanese film and animation for both children and adults. 

                     Zen = signifies a state of inner calm.

Rickshaw.
From Pictures of Old Japan
Charles Gillot

I am unsure as to why I suddenly noticed how many words used commonly in English, came from the Japanese; perhaps I read a passing comment somewhere which alerted me. I know not but I do know that suddenly I was tripping over words like ‘tycoon’ and ‘rickshaw’, and then trailing behind them came, ‘origami’, ‘futon’ ‘sudoku’, ‘haiku’

Cool emoji
There are emojis to suit every conceivable
emotion or situation.

, ‘emoji’, ‘sushi’ and ‘ginkgo’. These are words in common usage in the English language, and this realisation has set me off, greyhound-style, chasing the Japanese and quietly wondering if the traffic is two-way.

Tsundoku is a word known to the bookish. To be used
and admired for the Japanese dexterity in
coining in one word, a wholly recognisable habit.

According to that impeccable linguistic source, The Oxford English Dictionary, the long history of contact and mutual influence between the Japanese and English has left an enduring legacy in the vocabulary of each language. This can be observed in the several hundred words of Japanese origin recorded in the OED. Apparently, five Japanese words arrived here in the 1500s though only one, an early Mandarin Chinese word, Cipan, meaning ‘sun origin’ has survived and this word travelled to us via the Portuguese! Five more Japanese words are recorded as appearing in the 17^th century, and these were chopstick, kimono, sake, shogun and samurai. However, the OED now lists 552 Japanese words in English, some dating from as early as the 16^th century, and these are referred to as ‘loanwords’ which neatly summarises one aspect of the inheritance! Although perhaps originally loaned, many words of Japanese origin have also entered our language to such a degree that we don’t even notice their existence. Everyday words and phrases have become ‘ours’ like ‘the kamikaze spirit’ or ‘a tsunami disaster’, together with culinary terms such as ‘teriyaki’ and ‘sushi’ and cultural concepts such as ‘zen’, a state of tranquillity, and ‘manga’, Japanese comics, and these, while perhaps suggesting a glimpse of the Japanese culture, also enrich the English language while becoming interwoven within it. Perhaps, the simplicity of some Japanese words plus their very particular meanings, also make them appealing to the English speaker.

Awe-inspiring tattoo on the back of a yakuza.
Intricate tattoos are a tradition among Japanese mafia
known as yakuzas

This linguistic exchange reflects the growing global interconnectedness. Before WW2, Japan was relatively remote from the Western world but then came the dreadful betrayal of Pearl Harbour in 1941, eventually followed by the appalling atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki which brought WW2 to an end. After the end of WW2, the Japanese Emperor and his family were removed from power, losing their erstwhile god-like status and the country was forced to become a more modern, ‘Western-style’ nation. This was partially driven by the large occupying American force which virtually administered the country from 1945-1952 during which period, the Japanese were heavily exposed to American culture and the English language. And, of course, in reverse fashion, the young Americans absorbed at least some of the Japanese culture and language.

Samurai
Combining the terrifying with the
purely decorative.

 A few examples of the many words from the Japanese that are ubiquitous in current English, are:  dashi, ikebana, kombucha, origami, reiki, tempura, teriyaki, kamikaze, tsunami, wasabi, futon, rickshaw, typhoon, samurai, ninja, emoji, haiku, honcho, (often used in English as ‘head honcho’),  ramen, hunky-dory, soy, dojo (place for martial arts), tycoon.

By Eminem.

Resilience or The Malala Story

Malala Yousafzai

Walking around my flat, to which I am presently, though temporarily, confined because of a mysterious leg pain, I was feeling a little rebellious about my circumstances this morning  when I reminded myself that part of my self-image is of my normal resilience. I expect to cope with whatever Life throws at me, including the increasing burdens of ageing! And, of course, I am, and I do.

Malala with her inspiration: her father Ziauddin

But with the concept of resilience thus in my head, I then happened to see a photo online of Malala Yousafzai, a confident young woman now grown from the young teenager she was when she first shot to fame at the age of 12 or 13. The phrase, ‘shot to fame’, used without irony, is rather apt. In 2009 she had begun writing a blog under a pseudonym criticising the increasing Taliban military activity in her hometown, and voicing fears that her school would be attacked. Somehow her identity was revealed but she, and her father, headmaster of a school in their village, courageously continued to speak out publicly about the necessity of female education. Archbishop Desmond Tutu nominated her for the International Children’s Peace Prize in 2011. In 2012, still living in her home area of the Swat Valley in Pakistan, she began publicly opposing Taliban restrictions on female education.

Malala and family in Birmingham, post shooting

The Taliban’s attack on Malala happened on 9^th October 2012, after she had begun her anti-Taliban protests, when she was shot three times in the head by a gunman who boarded her school bus and demanded, “Who is Malala?” as she returned home with her friends. This atrocity shocked the world and in Pakistan alone, over 2 million people signed a ‘Right to Education for Girls’ petition and the National Assembly ratified Pakistan’s first ‘Right to Free and Compulsory Education’ Bill. Surgeons removed several bullets from Malala’s head, and then, due to the severity of her injuries, she was flown, still in a coma, to England for medical treatment and rehabilitation in a specialist trauma centre in Birmingham. Initially she was alone in Birmingham, her father remaining in the Swat Valley with the rest of his family who had no passports, to protect them, though her parents did see her soon after the shooting. They were distraught to see that the left side of her face was paralysed, and she couldn’t smile. Surgeons operated to repair Malala’s damaged facial nerve and after three months, movement began returning to her face.

Malala's mother, Toor Pekai Yousafzai
She originally believed that a daughter should never leave 
the house alone. She is the most connected to the Pashtun
traditional ways around her but unusually, she and Ziauddin
chose each other to marry and treat each other as equals. He
always asks her for her advice which he greatly values.

One year later, she and her father, her declared inspiration and ally, co-founded The Malala Fund to further enhance public awareness of the social and economic impact of girls’ education, and to empower girls to demand change. On her 16^th birthday, July 12^th, 2013, she spoke at the United Nations, calling for all children to have access to education. In December 2014, she became the youngest-ever Nobel Peace Prize laureate at 17, awarded for her work in promoting education for all children, and in 2017 Secretary-General Antonio Guterres designated Malala as a United Nations Messenger of Peace to help further raise awareness of the importance of girls’ education.

Proud Muslim father

Malala was born in July 1997 and unusually, her father, Ziauddin Yousafzai, vowed she would have every opportunity normally given to a boy. This was a rare and important paternal gift to a daughter in Pakistan where daughters were less prized than sons and may well have conferred confident feelings of being a special person on Malala. Despite his family's sadness at the birth of a daughter, Ziauddin insisted that his baby girl's name be included in the family tree, much to the horror of the wider family. All of his life, Ziauddin has spoken up for human rights and girls' education, insisting that girls too could attend his village school and thus incurring the public wrath of the local Mullah. He continued with his vocal support for girls' education, even when his friends and supporters were shot by the Taliban for their beliefs, and when everyone around him expected he would be the next casualty. He wasn't; the Taliban shot his teenage daughter instead.  He is passionate and confident in his beliefs and has spoken up publicly, and written about, honour killings and of course, women's rights. Indeed it is obvious why Malala is so confident and public in her support of girls' right to education.                         

Speaking at the U.N. on her 16th birthday, calling for all
children to have access to education.
July 12th 2013.

                                   

She grew up believing she had the right to speak her mind on sensitive issues and has developed into a prominent human rights activist and advocate for girls’ education, especially in Pakistan, becoming a global symbol of the fight for human rights. Married in 2021 to Asser Malik after the couple met at Oxford University in 2018, she is currently focussed on her duties as executive Chair and co-founder of the Malala Fund advocating for girls' education globally. She is also involved in various projects including film production and writing, continuing to represent girls'voices and demands. She has her own film production company, Extracurricular, and is actively involved in Hollywood advocating in particular, for more diverse representation.

Reading around the topic of Malala, I came across the framework developed by Dr Kenneth Ginsburg, which he called ‘The Seven Cs of Resilience’, qualities which he suggested work together to help individuals develop resilience and navigate difficult changes effectively.

Competence: knowing how to handle situations effectively and having a sense of personal efficacy.

Confidence: Having faith in one’s ability to succeed and persevere through challenges.  

Connection: Having strong social ties and a sense of belonging to a community.

Character: Having a strong moral compass and understanding of right and wrong.

Yousafzai family as the children grow up.
Malala's brothers are Khushal and Atal.

Contribution: Making a positive impact on others and feeling a sense of purpose.

Coping: Developing effective strategies to manage stress and adversity.

Control: Having a sense of urgency and the ability to make choices that impact one’s life.

It is likely that Malala has never heard of the Seven Cs but the silhouette outlined in the list above, is eerily Malala-shaped.

 

Post Script

We learn from her autobiography, I Am Malala, that her father, Ziauddin, kept a famous poem in his pocket for inspiration, (written by Martin Niemoller, prominent German  Lutheran pastor known for his staunch opposition to the Nazi regime and for his efforts to uphold Christian values.)

First they came for the communists,

and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the socialists, 

and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a socialist.

Martin Niemoller released Oct 28th 1945 after
imprisonment by Nazis in Sachsenhausen
&  Dachau from 1938, including three years
solitary.

Then they came for the trade unionists,

and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,

and I didn’t speak out because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Catholics,

and I didn’t speak out because I was not a Catholic.

Then they came for me,

                                        and there was no one left to speak for me.