My mother’s hands are always busy. Never resting. Sometimes chopping vegetables, ironing the clothes or quickly cleaning the mess from around the house, which I and my younger brother have made. I used to think it was just “Mother stuff,” you know? Like, that’s just what mothers did, whether it was house chores or yelling. But then I started noticing ....

Like, that time she had that killer cough, the kind that shook the whole body. She still made breakfast, packed my lunch and kept giving me the instructions to take care of myself. However, when I had a cough, I lay there in bed and she was the one bringing soup and medicine to me. But she didn’t lay down or took rest in her cough.

I noticed she looked tired, really tired, but she didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. As I came back home, she still looked tired, but she asked me about my day. Yet, I didn’t bother to ask how she was doing.

Then I noticed my sister, Zara, who is older than me, I saw her studying late at night, books piled up. She’d get up early, make tea for everyone and leave for college. I saw her give tuition to the kids from the neighbourhood as a part-time job. She’d often look exhausted, but still helped me with my math homework.

That day, when I visited my cousin, he mentioned that his mum, my aunt, had cooked a meal and left for her shift. She’s a doctor who often works crazy hours, yet somehow manages to cook and handle other errands when she gets home.

And then, there are the women outside my family. Like my teacher, Ms Saima Khan, who always gives extra time after the school hours to struggling students. I was surprised to see that day, she had a toddler in the staff room. We, being curious, rushed to see the baby. We saw the toddler, a lively little one, playing happily, while Ms Saima was going through her students’ notebooks.

The next day, as I walked down the corridor, I saw Ms Saima feeding her child and talking to him while simultaneously checking our papers. She had a stack of our assignments on her table and paused to feed the child. I was amazed at how she managed it all. Lost in thought, I went to the schoolyard and saw my friend Aisha playing basketball like a pro. I wondered how she could manage her studies, sports and home responsibilities. I had heard that she was the only child in her family. She looked after her sick mother and also did the cooking and all the household errands, yet she was a tough sporty girl!

Thus, this is where I started seeing it everywhere. Women work, struggle, get sick and have bad days — but they keep going. They don’t crumble. They take things on them, but don’t let anyone down.

Indeed, there are moments when I’ve witnessed my sister silently breaking down. I’ve also observed my mother clutching her back and my father inquiring about it, she would respond, “I’ll be fine, I’ll take a pill once I’ve finished this work.”

I am aware that my teachers must contend with numerous responsibilities both at school and at home, yet they consistently return with strength. And it all keeps going.

I used to think being strong meant being tough. But now, I see it’s something different. It’s the quiet courage to keep going, even when no one notices.

As a male child in my family, I’ll grow up to be a strong man. Only because of the women in my life. I’ll be a man who believes in equal responsibilities within our families and society. It is not that we men are only there to do outdoor work, we are equally responsible for sharing home chores, just like women are sharing the outdoor work.

We owe it to the women in our lives — our mothers, sisters, aunts, friends and partners — to support them, to listen to them and to share the burdens they are enduring all alone.

Women’s Day isn’t just about flowers and cards. It’s about recognising the lovely women in our lives. It’s about understanding that they don’t just play roles; they build them. They build families, communities and futures.

I’m still a kid. But now I see the world differently. I see the strength in all the women around me. And I know, that’s a superpower I must never take for granted.

Published in Dawn, Young World, March 8th, 2025