A cold November night changed Saj Zafar‘s life forever (Supplied)

‘I was 11 years old, walking home from school when I heard footsteps behind me and felt a sharp pain,’ says Saj Zafar.

‘I didn’t realise what had happened until I swung round and saw this girl pull the scissors out my shoulder.

‘There were a few of them and they ran away, but there was blood everywhere.’

Saj had been bullied ever since she started school. Her family were the first immigrants to arrive in Yorkshire from Kashmir, and life wasn’t easy for the family.

‘Both my parents were illiterate, uneducated and very poor,’ says Saj. ‘When I started school, I realised that I didn’t look like anyone else, didn’t speak like anyone and that led to other children bullying me.

‘I always say that I learned to fight before I learned to write.’

As Saj grew older, she was constantly in detention and fell behind at school. ‘I was disruptive because of the bullying and I felt isolated.’

When she went to senior school at 11, the bullying escalated. She was kicked and punched on a daily basis. ‘I learned if I curled up in a ball they would do the least damage,’ she says.

It was a dark November night when Saj was stabbed in an alleyway. ‘At the time, I noticed that they’d made a hole in my donkey jacket and it was my pride and joy and I was more annoyed that they’d ruined my jacket,’ she says.

Saj was able to walk home but her shoulder started to seize up – she rang her friend and told her to bring tissues and talcum powder to try and stop the blood. ‘My parents were very strict, and I was terrified that they would tell me off, so my friend helped patch me up. I changed out of my uniform and did my best to clean myself up,’ she says.

That night her mother asked her to make dinner with her in the kitchen, but as she rolled out her first chappati, the wound burst open. “Behind me, my mother gasped and dropped a glass in shock. I had started to bleed through my dress, and she whisked me to hospital.

‘The police were called but I wouldn’t tell them who had done it. Everything would have got a lot worse if I did.’

Heartbreakingly, life didn’t get better for Saj after the incident. By the time she reached 15 she had tried to take her own life and was rushed into hospital and later taken to see a psychiatrist.

‘I poured my heart out in the hope she would help me but instead she diagnosed me with having an “identity crisis”. My father sent me back to Pakistan with a one-way ticket where I spent two years, four months and fifteen days before I managed to negotiate a return to the UK.’

Saj was sent to live in Pakistan at 15 (Picture: Supplied)

Her family wanted Saj to get married, and she promised her father she would do so if he allowed her to go to university. She started a degree in forensic psychology. ‘I got a job and saved some money and on the last day of university, I ran away to London,’ she says.

‘I was scared of what would happen if my family found me – culturally there was a fear instilled into girls if you ever tried to leave you would get caught and you would be either deported or risk being killed and I didn’t fancy any of those two!’

After six weeks, she arranged a meeting with her father. She met her dad in Birmingham in a café and she could see that her uncles and cousins were waiting outside in the cars. She faced her dad and told him that she wasn’t prepared to return home under any circumstances.

‘I could see that he was trying to understand why when he had provided for me and done the best me, I wasn’t conforming. But I told him I wanted my freedom and I wanted to live a life of my own choosing – to live independently, have a job and choose my own husband,’ she said.

‘In that moment, my father knew I wasn’t going to change my mind and return with him. He pointed to my uncles and cousins waiting outside in the cars and said – you do realise, they expect me to bring you out of this café. ‘Is there a back door to this place? I suggest you find it and start running.’ And I did.’

Eventually, Saj was able to reconcile with her family on her terms. Over time her parents accepted and respected her decision and became part of her life. Saj says before his passing her father paid her the biggest compliment by telling her she was ‘his son’ .

Today, she works to empower other women to follow their dreams, whether they’re facing racism at work or school or challenges relating to familial or societal expectations.

‘My story resonates with many women of colour from similar backgrounds,’ she says. ‘By sharing my story, I hope to inspire, motivate women to be leaders in their own lives.’

As a leadership coach she’s created two organisations – LeadHERship Academy and Institute for Change – which both seek to drive change in gender equity. Through one-to-one or group coaching, plus public speaking events, she hopes to help women address the barriers to opportunities they’re facing and develop the capabilities to thrive.

At the same time, she works with male leaders to create the change girls abroad really need – such as negotiating a deal with male leaders in Kashmir to stop them ‘selling’ their daughters as brides.

Saj now works to uplift women in the UK and abroad (Picture: Supplied)

Saj has pushed through those glass ceilings herself; she qualified in forensic psychology after graduating and later became one of the youngest Asian females to join the Prison Service when she worked as a prison governor.

She spent the next 20 years working in senior leadership roles, which included working with ministers and senior officials in central government.

‘I was the only female of colour in those spaces,’ she says, ‘and my mission is to help organisations increase women like me into leadership roles.’

Now, she’s seen as a pioneer, trailblazer for the younger women coming up behind her.

At a recent wedding she said she was both humbled and encouraged when she was approached my some of her younger cousins and nieces who said that if it hadn’t been for her they wouldn’t have been able to pursue further education, work, find partners of their own choosing.

‘One of them said to me ‘whenever you did something it immediately gave the rest of us hope that if Saj can, I can.’ By my father allowing me to live my own life, it inspired other fathers in our community to do the same. Whatever we do causes a ripple effect,’ she says.

How has she kept strong when dealing with such adversity? ‘I have become stronger by refusing to be kept down and always battling through no matter what the consequence. My sheer drive came from this inner belief that I was entitled to lead a life of my own choosing, I was entitled to have freedom and make my own life choices. This sheer determination to keep fighting led me to build resilience and thrive in chaos and crisis.

‘I have spent a lifetime in survival mode and following years of therapy and inner work, I am now beginning to learn to thrive. And now I have made it my mission to spend the rest of my life empowering women and girls to affect the change necessary so that they too can live a life of their own choosing and thrive.’

In a recent trip to Kashmir, Saj met some schoolgirls she’d been supporting through her work. ‘I was told by one of them that I was their “waseela”, which translated means “medium, solution, guide, saviour.” ‘

‘Why do I do what I do?’ she asks. ‘I want to be the woman who was never there for me in my life.’

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‘I always say that I learned to fight before I learned to write.’