I marched for my mother who wasn't allowed to go to school.

Almost four decades ago, in a faraway village in northwestern Pakistan, there lived a girl, the eldest of all her siblings. She would see her younger brothers go to school every day, but her family did not allow her to do the same.

When she turned 10, she expressed her desire to read, write, and go to school just like her brothers. Her grandmother agreed. She bought herself a 'takhti' [a traditional wooden writing tablet] to write on. She was very happy. She would go to school with religious punctuality. Every day, after coming back, she would clean her takhti with fresh mud so it could be used again the next day.

It had only been a few days since she started school, when one evening, a religious cleric and member of a local religio-political group visited their home. He saw the young girl's takhti in the room and asked the grandmother about it. She told him that it belonged to her granddaughter, who was fond of learning and went to school every day. The moment the cleric heard these words, he was furious.

'It is against our traditions and values to educate women. If she learns to write, she will start writing letters to other men, and that will violate the honour of your family,' said the cleric. He convinced the grandmother to stop sending the girl to school, and after that day, she was never allowed to step foot in school again.

That girl is my mother. She has told me this story multiple times in my life. I can see tears and helplessness in her eyes whenever she talks about it, and my heart sinks whenever I think of her younger self. She was too young to resist when her dreams were shattered. The distant possibility of her writing letters to a man once she learnt to read and write was enough to snatch away her right to education from her.

Every year on International Women's Day since 2018, Aurat March is held in cities across Pakistan where women and gender minorities come together and speak up about gender-based patriarchal injustices. This year, I went to the march with a placard that said, 'I march for my mom who was not allowed to go to school.'

Then, I wrote a Twitter thread about my mother's story, and it went viral. I received so many heartwarming messages from different people who were moved by the story and shared the pain my mother went through.

This is not just the story of one individual. It is the story of millions of women across Pakistan and across the globe.

When I shared my mother's story, many people also shared stories...