Shofika

“My hands became my voice” Shofika gestures, her fingers dancing through the air as she describes the intricate embroidery before her. Her practiced movements tell a story that her speech cannot, one of resilience, determination, and the quiet dignity of a young woman who refused to be defined by her limitations.

In her previous life in Myanmar, these same hands wove together the fragments of a restricted existence. Her teachers, dismissing a girl with a speech disability, cut short her education just after fourth grade. “I wanted to continue my education. I wanted to learn more, to do more but no one thought I could,” she expresses through gestures, her eyes carrying the weight of lost opportunities and hope.

Instead of textbooks, she found solace in needle and thread. Hours melted away as she stitched bags, mended clothes, and crafted decorative pieces, creating patterns of purpose in a life where others had tried to diminish her worth. Yet beneath the rhythmic movement of her needle lay an unspoken truth: no one had ever asked if this was the life that she wanted.

Shofika’s experience reflects a broader global crisis. Over 1 billion people (about 15% of the world’s population) live with some form of disability. In low-income countries, 80% of people with disabilities live in poverty, facing daily barriers to education, employment, and social inclusion. For refugee women with disabilities like Shofika, these challenges are often magnified by displacement and cultural barriers.

The violence that erupted in Myanmar in 2017 shattered even this fragile existence. At 16, Shofika fled with her family, embarking on a harrowing journey to Bangladesh. Her inability to speak transformed an already dangerous exodus into a nightmare of vulnerability, every step clouded by her family’s fear that she couldn’t call for help if needed.

Adjusting to life in Camp 13, one of the many refugee settlements in Cox’s Bazar, meant learning to weave together a new existence. In their shared shelter, home to nine family members including her parents, two brothers, and their families, Shofika found both the familiar comfort of family bonds and the daily struggles of displacement. Her mother, Moriyum, speaks of their efforts to ensure her daughter feels valued: “Whenever we cook fish curry, we ask her which piece she prefers. She communicates her choice through gestures, and we ensure she gets her favorite piece.” These daily rituals of care and attention reveal a family who sees and cherishes their daughter for exactly who she is.

Yet even in this loving environment, the crowded refugee camp initially confined her world. The familiar rhythm of her sewing work, which had given her days purpose in Myanmar, found little outlet. Her family, already struggling with the basic demands of survival, kept her close to home, their protective instincts further narrowing her opportunities for connection and growth.

Still, within this confinement, a spark of determination refused to die. When an opportunity arose to join an Income Generating Activity training at the World Vision center in Camp-13 through the JF-FS&CPiE project, Shofika seized it despite initial rejection from other participants. What began as simple craft-making evolved into something more profound: a leadership role that showed others the full scope of her capabilities and determination.

Today, at 24, Shofika leads the same group that once shunned her, her expertise in handicrafts earning the respect of those who previously doubted her abilities. With support from dedicated volunteers who ensure her safe passage to and from training, she has carved out a space where her disability no longer defines her potential and identity.

Yet challenges remain. She remains unmarried, as societal stigma surrounding her disability has deterred potential suitors. Her mother confides their deepest worry: “Since Shofika cannot speak, we fear she won’t receive any good marriage proposals. Adding to our worries, we are very poor and unable to afford the money and jewelry traditionally expected for a wedding.” These concerns weigh heavily on the family, even as they celebrate their daughter’s achievements.

Like many young women, Shofika can be emotional when frustrated by limitations, whether they stem from her disability or her family’s financial constraints but she faces these challenges with grace, accepting what cannot be changed while continuing to push against the boundaries of what’s possible. Through her gestures, she expresses to her instructor about her dream that “one day [she] wishes to be an instructor of sewing.”