If you walk into our home expecting complete discipline, perfectly aligned trophies, and daughters who glide through life like a motivational video, I suggest you brace yourself. Because what you’ll actually find is a dinner table that has officially turned into a debate arena: four girls with strong opinions and a parent who has mastered the art of listening with one ear while mentally preparing to mediate round two.
Welcome to our everyday reality TV show, also known as life, where Fathima, Minsa, Hawwa, and Aisha live, grow, clash, and learn under one roof. To have three Sharjah Award winners and a Hamdan Award winner under one roof is no joke.
Fathima is grounded. A social butterfly with strong values, she stands firmly in what she believes. If she sets her mind to something, she will deliver it at its absolute best—but igniting that initial spark? That can be a Herculean task. Once she’s in, though, there’s no halfway. She writes stories, dances, bakes, sketches when the mood strikes, experiments with embroidery, and yes, she enjoys her space on social media.
Minsa is quiet at first—observing, listening, processing. But when she finally speaks, you had better pay attention. She has already considered five different angles. She believes respect is a give-and-take, not automatically granted because of age or title. Everything she does comes from genuine intent, and the room knows it.
Hawwa is curiosity in motion—fearless, hyper, and unstoppable. She questions everything, experiments relentlessly, and occasionally experiments into “learning opportunities” (which is parent code for major chaos). If there’s a challenge she hasn’t tried yet, she’s already signing up, even if she has no clue how it works. Confidence? Sky-high. Logic? Sometimes optional.
And then there’s Aisha, in KG1, but already clearing imaginary shelf space for the trophies she plans to win. She is ambitious in the purest, most innocent way. Hyper, excited, and endlessly curious, she is determined to be part of everything her sisters do and loudly reminds anyone nearby when she is not included.
But here’s the catch: each daughter has her own strengths, her own pace, her own leadership style. And when three strong personalities coexist, clashes are not a possibility—they are a guarantee. One believes her method is the most efficient. Another believes depth matters more than speed. The third wants to experiment with a completely new angle. Multiply that by ambition, throw in sibling dynamics, and suddenly you start to see why our house rarely whispers. Opinions collide like dodgeballs in a high-stakes PE class. And as a parent, I am constantly balancing encouragement with correction, guidance with space, and celebration with perspective—all while occasionally ducking from a flying pencil.
Encouraging them to make a difference is more than guiding achievements. It’s about helping them manage competition without envy, ambition without arrogance, success without ego. Aptitude—the colors they paint themselves with, their talents and skills—is only half the story. Attitude—how they treat others, handle failure, and carry success—is what determines the altitude of their flight.
Having three Sharjah Award winners and a Hamdan Award winner under one roof may sound extraordinary. It is. But it’s also a daily challenge—a test of patience, humor, and perspective. Keeping everything on track while encouraging them to make a difference in the world requires more than just coffee; it requires strategic interventions, quiet mediation, and quite a bit of bribery by chocolate.
The trophies are visible. The lessons, friction, negotiations, and growth—the real work—is what fills the space in between. And if one day these girls step out into the world, I hope people notice not just their achievements but the values they carry, the compassion they embody, and the resilience they have built in a house that never whispers.
Because at the end of the day, our home is not perfectly aligned trophies or Instagram-worthy leadership moments. It’s four girls learning, arguing, experimenting, laughing, failing, and trying again, and a parent holding it all together with patience and perspective. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sajira Sultana V.K, M/o Fathima and Minsa
