My Story

I was twelve when my sister, Malala, was shot by the Taliban for going to school, and everything changed. We were displaced to the UK, where I arrived without the language, feeling lost and out of place, carrying a grief and anger I didn't yet know how to name.

For years I tried to outrun that pain through achievement. Fear pushed me to work hard at first, but when it became my fuel, it broke me. PTSD and depression caught up with me, and I numbed it however I could, smoking weed to escape how behind I felt, doomscrolling to disappear. I hid it because I thought that was what being a man meant, and two months before my A-levels I quit. I failed, I lost my university place, and I thought my life was over.

Then I gave myself something I hadn't before: a second chance. I took time to work on my mental health, rebuilt discipline through training, was honest about my struggles, and retook my exams. That road led me to King's College London, and more importantly back to myself. It taught me the one thing I now build everything around. Life only gives you a second chance if you give yourself one first.

Today I work at the intersection of education, youth mental health, and masculinity. I speak in schools and at programmes like the Oxford Scholars Programme, mentor young people, co-host a podcast, and make honest content for anyone who feels like they're falling behind. Not as someone who has it all figured out, but as someone who has been there, and found a way through.