First and foremost, I want to thank Allah, the Almighty, the One who saw every silent tear and every hidden wound. He was my first witness, my protector, and the One who held my soul together when life gave me every reason to shatter. Without His mercy, I would not be standing here today.
My name is Nafiza Yasmin. I am a British Bangladeshi nursing student., but beyond any title, I am a woman who has walked through fire and learned to rise from the ashes. I joined this organisation because my heart refuses to look away from the suffering of women, children, and those whose voices have been silenced by trafficking, exploitation, and abuse. I stand with them because I am one of them. I have lived through honour-based abuse and decades of pain that reshaped every part of me.
This past year was one of the hardest chapters of my life. I lived in exile, under legal protection, facing chronic illness, poverty, and homelessness. I moved eight times across towns and cities, carrying my life in bags, feeling like a stranger everywhere I went. There were days I felt like a traveller wandering through this world with no home, no comfort, and no one to lean on. I realised that what breaks us is not life itself, but the crushing weight of carrying everything alone after years of trauma and survival.
What hurt the most was that, instead of compassion, I was met with judgement. People saw me moving, struggling, trying to stay alive—and they assumed I was fleeing. But I wasn’t running. I was transforming. I was being rebuilt in the most painful, sacred way. The psychological, emotional, physical, and financial wounds were deep. Trauma changed my brain, my body, my sense of safety. In my vulnerability, I was even stalked multiple times, and the threat to my life was real.
Yet here I am. Not defeated, but determined.
My purpose now is rooted in the very pain that tried to destroy me. I want every survivor of abuse and exploitation to know that their spirit is not defined by what was done to them. I want to restore autonomy to those who feel forgotten, to return dignity to those who were stripped of it, and to offer hope to those who fear their light has gone out. Many survivors tremble at the thought of rebuilding—but I want to stand beside them, hand in hand, and show them that healing is possible, that strength can be reborn, and that their story can rise from the ruins. My mission is to protect, to uplift, and—In Shaa Allah—to help save lives.
Thank you.