It was around 10:00 in the morning when I arrived at Munira’s school, after a 90-minute drive from Jimma a town nearly 350 kilometres from Addis Ababa. The air was calm, the school compound peaceful. I sat on the soft grass with Munira and her father, Nezo ready to listen to a story that would stay with me long after I left.

I’ve told many stories in my work, but this one touched a deeper place. It made me wonder: How many other children are quietly suffering in classrooms across the country, with no one noticing, no one stepping in to help? 
Now, let me take you into Munira’s world a bright, determined 15-year-old girl with a heart full of dreams and a mind full of potential. She wants to become a doctor one day. But just a few years ago, that dream was slipping away not because she lacked the will or the talent, but because she couldn’t see. 

For a long time, Munira didn’t even realise she had a vision problem.  “Until Grade 4, I thought everyone was like me. But then I noticed I was the only one who couldn’t read the blackboard. One day, my teacher asked me to read. I couldn’t. My classmates laughed. I felt so alone.” Eventually, her teachers realised something was wrong. They tried to help by letting her sit closer to the board, but that only made her feel more exposed. “It still wasn’t visible,” she recalls. “And everyone could see I was different. I hated that.” Some classmates shared their notes. Others didn’t. Copying someone else’s work wasn’t learning and Munira wanted to learn. 

But one day, hope arrived unexpectedly. World Vision visited her village to assess the situation of children with disabilities. What seemed like a normal visit became a turning point in Munira’s life. “I went with my father, hoping they’d understand,” she says. “And they did.” After checking her eyes and listening to her story, they supported her in getting exactly what she needed: eyeglasses from Jimma city. 

“That eyeglass became the light of my life,” she says with a beaming smile and showing the eyeglass. She vividly remembers the first time she put it on: “I saw the school compound and trees from far away, things I had never seen before. I can’t describe the feeling. It was like being born again. From that moment, I knew: I got my life back.” With her new glasses, Munira returned to school. She could finally read from the blackboard. She stopped copying from others. Her classmates’ attitudes changed, they respected her. She even started playing volleyball again, this time with joy.

“The only fear I have now is if it breaks,” she says. “But I’ll do anything to replace it. This eyeglass is my future.” Her father, once weighed down with guilt, now speaks with happy face, pride, and gratitude: “Thanks to World Vision, there is light in my house again. My daughter is back in school. We are happy. No more fear, no more tears. She tells me, ‘Not only do I dream — I feel like a doctor already.’ That is more than enough for me.” Munira is no longer invisible. She’s a student with vision, energy, and purpose. 
“I’m planning to catch up. If possible, I’ll pass two grades in one year. I want to be top of my class. Now, no challenge can stop me. I’ve got my light. I’ve got my hope. I’ve got my future.”