Our Sisters … can hear whispers

Each day, it began at around 5.15 am, the sound of the muezzin calling people to prayer in the dark. Slowly, over the next ten minutes, other muezzins joined in with the first, and eventually, I could hear the call coming faintly from every direction. Rather than distorting each other, the calls created an electrostatic harmony, each amplifying the noise of the other. Although I usually stirred, thankfully, I could sleep through these early calls to devoutness, tucked up in bed in my hotel room in Lahore.

I returned from my whirlwind trip to this beautiful city just last week and haven’t been able to think about much else since. Pakistan and its people have enthralled me. I was incredibly fortunate to meet with people working at every level of society to improve the lives of Christian women there.

There was the evangelist and his family, who heard the call of God to take the gospel into the brick kilns. Here, many nominal Christian labourers work under gruelling conditions to pay off debts their parents and grandparents incurred. Although these hard workers identify as Christian, they are illiterate, and most haven’t heard the gospel; they are persecuted for a faith they know little about and are vulnerable to many kinds of abuse, including abduction. However, my friend is sharing with them what it means to have faith in God, and churches are blossoming; the Good news is spreading.

I lost count of the numerous courts I drove past in Lahore where activists and lawyers tirelessly pursue justice for girls who have been abducted and forced to convert and marry. Together, these campaigners are collating reports on the cases they are working on and documenting the abuses so they can lobby politicians to protect vulnerable women. I was fortunate to meet a few of them, and perhaps I indirectly benefited from their efforts. A female police officer took me aside at the Lahore Museum to tell me about a number I could call if a man harassed me during my stay in Pakistan.

There were the girls themselves who bravely and defiantly shared their experiences with me. Bored boys had gang-raped one during the Covid pandemic; another was rescued only two weeks ago, and I chatted with several others at a hostel. They were each in different stages of confusion, depression and shock, but alongside them were other survivors and concerned Christians helping them as best they could. The gang rape victim in particular has an astonishing story of redemption which I can’t reveal here, but if you invite me to your church to speak I can share her miracle with you.

If you’d like me to do this, the best time would be this Autumn, once ‘Our Sisters’ has been released. I’m delighted to announce the book will be published on 12th September. In the meantime, my manuscript is undergoing detailed editing, and my publisher is working on the front cover design. You can vote for your favourite below. I’m also moving house in July from Belgium to Gloucester.

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I’m so grateful to everyone who helped make my trip to Pakistan so wonderful. They each inspired me, and just like the muezzin calls I describe above, as each of them speaks up for justice, their voices resound. Given the immense size and scale of the needs in Pakistan, these voices are relatively faint. I pray that as they work together, God amplifies their calls for change.

I cannot speak, unless you loose my tongue;

I only stammer and I speak uncertainly;

But if you touch my mouth, my Lord,

Then I will sing the story of your wonders!

So many who have heard forget to tell the story.

Here am I, my Jesus: teach me.

– From the Prayer of Caedmon,

Anna

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