"Your Child doesn't have the ability to speak English!" (PART 1)

My journey From being rejected due to broken English to becoming an International English instructor and communication trainer.

This is the first time i am sharing this story that i hold very close to my heart. I have always held back from sharing it as i believed and still believe that it’s not of a good virtue to talk about oneself or one’s accomplishments. I have only given snippets of this story to very few of my students for helping them find comfort in being able to relate with me. After much thought and recommendations from my friends, colleagues and students, I have finally decided to pen down the full story in hopes that this inspires more individuals who are average like me and who feel that it’s impossible for them to develop and advance in their pursuit of mastering this language. I will elaborate my journey from the very start, the challenges i faced and the lessons i learnt. Bismillah…

Big journeys, begin with small steps. Steps that might seem disconnected with each other in a quagmire of disorienting patterns leaving you confused and often anxious. But the more we take those steps, trusting the creator who designed life, the more it will make sense. And finally, upon reaching the target destination after travelling a thousand miles filled with challenges and crises, when we look back, all the steps will arrange themselves in a consciously oriented, deeply beautiful and strategically orchestrated pattern that connects all the dots coherently, exposing your eyes to the entire telescopic picture than the minute pixel that you often microscopically focused on, leaving you with a mind-bending awe! So trust your lord and take those steps! 💠 - Wafi Shihad

My journey began in the first month of the 21st century. I was born in a small town in the Malappuram district of Kerala called Pulikkal. Growing up in Pulikkal connected me deeply with the Indian soil. I grew up playing and learning under the shade of my beautiful little township. Life was simple. Life was good. The world was small and safe while the reality that was to come was narrow and nightmarish. little did that 6 year old little boy know, his journey was about to take a turn that would leave an indelible mark on his life.

• 💠Life lesson 1 - If life gives you an ‘up’, there is a ‘down’ coming sooner than you think. So expect the worst and hope for the best. Be ready for anything so that life doesn’t hit you while you least expect it making the damage greater.💠

I migrated to Qatar at the age of 7 when my father joined QP QATAR as the secretary of human resources. It was my first exposure to the outside world. Being rejected from a school due to my lack of language skills to Joining the largest school in Qatar made me go through a lot of challenges, pain and crises. It could all be rooted in my lack of communication skills and ignorance of the English language. I was sidelined and segregated. Unable to form friendships. Dejected and rejected. But these early experiences laid the foundations for what i accomplished later on in life. These experiences made me deeply understand that survival is only through self development. I focused on improving myself for the next few years. I spent time learning as much as possible about human dynamics and relationships. This was my entry into the field of psychology.

"Your child is extremely weak in English, he lacks language caliber, We can't allow him to join our school! "

I spent my earliest year of education in a government Malayalam medium school. Hence, My knowledge of the English language was zero to none. When my father, who was at the time working as a professor in MUA college, was selected for the secretariat post of QP in Qatar, he wanted to take us too. He tried to enroll us (me and my little brother) first in second grade in English schools in Kerala to prepare us before migrating. Upon searching, my mother decided to enroll us in a good English medium school near Farook college, Calicut. I went with my mother to the school office.

We waited outside the office. The clock was ticking and I was eagerly waiting with a sense of thrill in good hopes of what was to come. I remember this like it was just yesterday even though a lot of time has passed. We entered the office. There was a Lady in the office chair who I presume was the principal or the teacher who was the coordinator of admissions. She looked at us, then glanced at my certificates which she might have deemed worthless. She glanced at us through the corner of her eyes resentfully and looked at my mother. The words she said pierced through my heart and left an indelible mark that I still carry today. She said: "Your child is extremely weak in English, he lacks language caliber, We can't allow him to join our school! ".

• 💠Life lesson 2 - The hurtful words thrown at you is your fuel to grow and develop. Use this fuel to move ahead in life rather than pouring it on your own body to burn yourself in sadness and hateful vengeance. The best revenge is success!💠

Now, looking back being a psychologist, i understand deeply, why her words left that kind of a cleaved cut mark on my heart. This incident also served as a valuable lesson for me later on, as a teacher and a mentor on how NOT to talk to children.

I returned from that school feeling rejected and dejected holding my Umma’s (mother) hands feeling too ashamed to look at her face as i felt i let her down. But later, i got admission in another English medium school. Being an average kid who couldn’t utter one word in English, among peers who spoke the language fluently filled me with inferiority complex. Some of them looked down at me as if i was an untouchable ignorant imbecile. I couldn’t complain of the bullying as the complaints were only accepted in the English language. It felt suffocating.

What wrong had i done?! Why should any child have to go through this kind of a mental torture for not knowing a language that was not even his mother tongue! Was it such a big unforgivable crime that this naive little criminal had to go through solitary confinement and social boycott!!?? Why are we over emphasizing this colonial language as if it’s the key to success in the here and the hereafter. Thoughts and questions kept buzzing in my head without effective answers that could help solve the cognitive dissonance.

• 💠Life lesson 3 - Don’t expect the world to be just even though you are just to it. The worldly life is a test. So learn to cope with injustice. 💠

I don’t know if it’s the effect of post colonial western brainwashing, but the people seemed to view this language with absolute divine devotion as if it’s the most important element in the world to depict oneself as an educated and intelligent citizen. I deeply feared this language. I hated it to the core. A natural and normal consequence of my abnormal experiences.

Once during second standard, I was called by the teacher to write the word “INDIA” on the board. As she called my name, an electric shock shot from the bottom of my legs to the peak of my cerebral cortex filling my heart with fear and frustration. I had no choice but to go to the board as she echoed my name twice as if to announce the commencing of a drama that deserves the attention of all my classmates who looked down at me with contemptuous resentment. I took the chalk and went to the board with my mind empty as a black hole, that even the most brightest of lights couldn’t pierce through.

With shivering hands, i drew on the board an array of alphabets that was far from the word assigned to me. Each letter i wrote was followed by a theatrically thunderous display of laughter from the classmates who took great pleasure in seeing their ‘friend’ meet his doom. The teacher looked at me with disappointment and didn’t even care to get angry as she seemed too hopeless at this lad who lacked basic comprehension abilities.

I wish i could fly away, forever, into oblivion, erasing myself from existence…

After a few months, came the time to fly. To travel to Qatar leaving this nightmare behind. I was extremely happy. But little did that little kid know, he was jumping from a mild nightmare to a full blow night terror.

Qatar was beautiful. It was calm and serene. We arrived at Al Wakra. A place i would call home for the next ten years. A wonderful little town with the gigantic Al Wakra stadium, the beautiful pearl roundabout and a thriving native population. It was amazing!

As we settled, came the time to enroll in school. I was dropped off to MES Indian School which is the largest school in Qatar with thousands of students and hundreds of vehicles. The school was one huge compound with hundreds of classes, Multiple buildings and numerous different sections. I was accompanied to class. The sheer size of the school was overwhelming. As i entered my new class (3rd - D) , it felt strange. There were students from different countries, colors, creeds, cultures and codes. The only common language that bonded them all was the English language, the Villain in my story.

I stood quiet as my tongue couldn’t afford more humiliations. The time moved slower than usual as if the whole universe felt the need to make me experience pain, second by second. I felt alone and lost even though i was amongst the crowd. As the last bell rang signifying school end, i got out of the class not knowing how to navigate to my bus. I didn’t know my bus number nor did i know my place name. It was one strange world. That little kid, Had not had enough life experience to make sense of the situation. So, it was natural for that 8 year old lad to cry.

Other students gathered around me to provide a helping hand, but i couldn’t convey to them what my problem was as i didn’t know English. The same feeling of suffocation i felt a year before reignited. A teacher came to me and held my hand. Her kind words felt comforting. She searched and got me to my bus 27-X. English seemed like one hell of a language. Ignoring it seemed impossible as it always met me regardless of what turn i took to go around it. There seemed no choice, but to fight my demons and kill the beast before it kills me.

💠 Life lesson 4 - The best way to defeat your demons is to face it straight ahead. Don’t try to ignore it’s reality nor try to reject it’s significant negative impacts. Address it directly and fight it strategically. No war has ever been won by running away from the battle field! 💠

i wanted to fight my demons and conquer my fear of this language, But unfortunately, i didn’t know how to do it…

Mughirah reported: Al-Sha’bi, may Allah have mercy on him, said, “The statement ‘I do not know’ is one half of knowledge.”

Source: Sunan al-Dārimī 186

I sought refuge in Dua. I couldn’t see clear path ahead. Tawakkul was the dish, in which i found the taste of serenity. Looking back now, I had never done anything specific solely for the sake of learning English. But rather, My language ability that Allah has blessed me with now was a direct result of what i did. The door to development opened through my discovery of internet.

“The Internet could be a very positive step towards education, organization and participation in a meaningful society.”

- Noam Chomsky

TO READ THE SECOND PART, CLICK HERE👈