Another dawn… Another work day…
Meetings, strategies, plays…
Introductions are left to others though.
Wearing many hats but remains resolutely without title. Perhaps that indicates a tendency to avoid labels?
Hating being told that something cannot be done for whatever reason:
Girls shouldn’t do that;
That’s much too difficult. Perhaps something a little less time consuming, something more suited to a woman;
That is unacceptable in Islam;
Maybe that’s why the tendency to push beyond boundaries…
So with a number of degrees, years of experience and a portfolio of achievements, she is now classified “Too smart for her own good”.
The voices echo the sentiment :
What good is that?
She thinks she is better than everybody else and yet she is all alone.
See where all the degrees got her?
Too smart for her own good…
She walks with her head held high inspite of it all. She’s an instrumental part of a four person team which assists over fifty thousand rural Africans. Now in the process of providing a clinic, they make a difference.
Home to a cat though for she is too smart for her own good…
It wasn’t always like that but his mother felt she was not right for him.
Third time a charm.
“Here’s another, she has the same name even. But she’s not too clever.”
They write. He tells her about his fascination with India. They exchange book titles. He makes her laugh. They walk. They talk. He is astounded. She takes his breath away. It is unfair he says that someone should be so smart and so beautiful, inside and out. She is disbelieving. He treats her with respect; admires her strengths and smiles at her flaws.
He’s not right for her they say.
He doesn’t understand the culture.
He’s an infidel.
But, she’s too smart for her own good.