Burhan Nazir
Srinagar, May 02: In the quiet village of Poterwal in south Kashmir’s Shopian district, a ray of inspiration has emerged from the darkness. Rifat Jan, a 17-year-old visually impaired girl, has defied all odds to pass her Class 10 examination under the Jammu and Kashmir Board of School Education (JKBOSE) with 322 marks out of 500 — without any special concessions.
Rifat lost her eyesight at just 1.5 years old. Her world has been dark ever since, but her spirit has remained luminous. Raised in modest circumstances, she faced another emotional blow when her father, Mohammad Ali Seh, passed away when she was 17. Despite the profound personal loss and her visual disability, Rifat never let despair consume her dreams.
“I never saw the world, but I always imagined myself achieving something in it,” Rifat told Kashmir Bulletin (KB) softly. “I knew I had to fight harder than others.”
Unlike many visually impaired students in other states who receive readers or scribes during board exams, Rifat had no such support. JKBOSE did not offer her any relaxation or facilitation. Her mother, Haseena Akhtar, became her rock — emotionally, spiritually, and educationally.
“I would record her lessons on my phone and she would listen to them again and again,” says Haseena, eyes brimming with pride. “She memorized everything — word by word.”
Rifat’s learning process was entirely auditory. With no access to Braille materials or digital learning aids, she built her academic world through her ears, her memory, and an unshakable will. Every lesson, every chapter, was a mental imprint carved with determination and repetition.
Her journey speaks volumes not only about her courage, but also about the silent struggles of hundreds of disabled students in Jammu and Kashmir, many of whom continue to face systemic neglect.
“Rifat’s success is not just personal — it’s political,” says a local education activist. “It exposes the lack of support infrastructure for children with disabilities in our region.”
For Rifat, however, this is only the beginning. She aspires to continue her education and dreams of working in a field where she can inspire others with disabilities.
“I want to become a voice for those who are overlooked — especially girls like me who are told they can’t,” she says.
In a time when exam results dominate headlines for numbers, ranks, and toppers, Rifat Jan’s story is a reminder that the real victories are often the quietest ones — earned without spotlight, without privilege, and often, without sight.— (KB)
