Sarah Waheed Sher
Pakistan & St Edmund Hall 1998
Born in Sargodha in Pakistan, Sarah Sher (Sarah Khan when she was elected as a Scholar) studied at Kinnaird College for Women in Lahore before going to Oxford to read for a second undergraduate degree in PPE (philosophy, politics and economics). After Oxford, she got her MSc in Development Studies from LSE and returned to Pakistan to begin her career in the not-for-profit sector. Sher went on to work in a range of roles focused on social equity, including in the Department of Economics at the UN. She is currently the Executive Director of SIUT North America, which works to improve health equity in Pakistan. This narrative is excerpted from an interview with the Rhodes Trust on 8 November.
‘My childhood was very constructive’
My father was in government service, so we moved around Pakistan quite a bit when I was growing up. Our distant ancestors actually came from Afghanistan, which is why our name is ‘Khan’. It’s a very Phataan, Pashtun word. As a child, I was an avid reader and unusually interested in politics and social welfare. I would day dream about initiating social welfare programs and think about strategies on how to make the education and health available to all, especially street children. I would write letters to the editor of the national newspapers protesting the spate of bomb blasts and terrorism going on in my country as a by product of Pakistan being caught up in the Russian invasion of Afghanistan. I was fascinated with history and ancestry and loved visiting museums and historical sites. I distinctly remember how disturbed I was the day when talking about my ancestry with my uncle I learnt that we were invaders. I remember thinking Why? Why would you ever invade and take over people’s land?
Reading was always my main hobby, but there were lots of other things besides. I was a vociferous writer those days and would write poems on social inequities and injustice. At school, I was very active in putting on plays with friends, and during the summer holidays, my cousins and I would stage our own theatrical productions. My childhood was very constructive, and we would literally stitch clothes for our dolls, made pottery, and devise ways to entertain ourselves. I was also fascinated by politics and international relations. We subscribed to Newsweek, National Geographic and Readers Digest magazines at our house, and I would sit with my dad watching the one news channel we had back then, soaking it all in.
I was also very fortunate to go to one of the premier schools in Pakistan, Esena Foundation. Begum Aneese Majid, the owner and Directress of the school, was one of the biggest influences on my life. We were reading Chaucer and Shakespeare well before high school. I think that, coupled with my father's curiosity about global affairs and mother's love for serving humanity, sparked a lifelong desire to understand what lay beyond our home—beyond our city, our province, even our continent.
On applying for the Rhodes Scholarship
I still remember being in sixth grade and cutting out a newspaper article about Shazia Azim (Pakistan & University 1993). I kept it tucked away like a secret wish. The idea of the Rhodes Scholarship held a magnetic pull, especially because I had grown up reading Dickens, Hardy and Eliot. Oxford and Cambridge always attracted and inspired me.
At Kinnaird, I was very much a debater, and we had a thriving culture of student politics. All four years, I contested and won Student council elections as the Class Representative, and in the fourth year I was elected as the Head Girl of the college. We organized charity weeks filled with spirited competition among the four classes to raise the most money. One day, during our “Nation at Work” series—where we invited women’s rights lawyers to help women fill out their Nikah forms—The Principal of Kinnaird College, Mrs. Mira Phailbus, pulled me aside and said, “Sarah, have you thought about applying for the Rhodes?” I went home and, a little nervously, told my parents. Even though my family was very liberal, I was sure they wouldn’t let me apply for something which would have meant travelling on my own. But they said, ‘Why not?’ It felt like a dramatic turn of fate.
I remember being interviewed for the Scholarship in Islamabad and having to drive there because fog meant we couldn’t fly. There were ten of us being interviewed, and the room was filled with extraordinary people who have gone on to do great things. I spoke about the importance of being an agent of change—even if that means helping just one person, or simply raising awareness that problems exist. I was raised to believe that if you have any kind of privilege, you must use it. My family’s support—emotionally, intellectually, and morally—has been the cornerstone of whatever I’ve been able to accomplish.
‘It was a very liberating experience’
The most amazing part of actually being at Oxford was being exposed to so many brilliant minds. The tutorial system was fascinating–sitting one-on-one with your tutor and debating with them and trying to prove your point. It was a very liberating experience, because I had not been exposed to that style of education back in Pakistan, where there was more rote learning. Here, there was no ceiling on your imagination and intellectual curiosity–on your ability to think, your ability to debate, your ability to come up with new visions, new ideas, new theories.
I have to say that I also loved Oxford’s art and architecture. I remember sitting in the Bodleian when I was supposed to be writing an essay on the Cold War or something, and instead, I was just admiring the architecture and scribbling bits of poetry. I’m an old soul, so I loved just sitting in the library and writing. I think the only thing I regret about my time at Oxford is that there wasn’t more chance to connect with other Scholars in Rhodes House, but I know that things are very different now. Hearing about these seminars where people can sit and talk and debate important topics makes me really happy that the true potential of Rhodes Scholars is being utilized. There are various platforms now where amazing collaboration and exchange of ideas between brilliant minds can happen, and great strides have been made to make a difference in the world.
‘If you’re passionate, you can move mountains’
In retrospect, I feel that the course of my life has been driven by one simple factor; the desire to make a difference, no matter how small. After Oxford, I had friends who were joining big banks and consultancies, but I chose to go back to Pakistan. I started working with the government there, for the Small and Medium Enterprise Development Authority. When I got married, I moved to London and formed a little charity there to promote education and literacy in Pakistan. Then, my husband got admitted to Columbia University, so we moved to New York, and I started working at the United Nations. We were in NYC for 15 years and loved the multiculturalism of the big apple.
Eventually, when we moved to Houston, I found that it was a very beautiful, cosmopolitan city. But I noticed a gap: minority communities weren’t as engaged in civic life as I’d seen in London or New York. So I got involved. I joined the Million Muslim Votes for Biden, and I founded the Muslim Women for Texas chapter. We held phone banks and seminars, and that caused a little stir. I was interviewed by the Houston Chronicle, and after that, an ex-senator and a university vice chancellor reached out and we founded a small think-tank–the Forum for Dialogue and Diplomacy. I completely threw myself into civic participation and the not-for-profit sector. I think that when you adopt a country, when you become a citizen, it’s your country, and you have to make an effort. You have to show up. You have to speak up. If you want something done, be the advocate of change.
That’s how I was noticed by the people at the Sind Institute of Urology and Transplantation (SIUT). SIUTSIUT started as an eight-bed unit in a government hospital in Karachi, Pakistan in 1972, and it’s now a complex system of healthcare with 1600 beds. It offers world class medical treatment completely free of cost including: free dialysis, free kidney and liver transplants, free corneal transplants, free paediatric cardiology, free oncology and free Robotic Surgery to name a few. . It’s a wonderful example of public-private partnership, because it combines government money with private philanthropy. Last year, in North America, for example, we were able to raise six million dollars. I am the mother of a cancer survivor, and even though we lived three blocks away from the cutting-edge centre of oncology in New York at the time, it made me realise that you are so vulnerable when a loved one is not well. I’m singularly blessed and grateful to Allah that my work right now is what my passion is, because if you’re passionate, you can move mountains.
‘Start with the simple things in life’
What inspires me most now is seeing people who can rise above any kind of bias–rise above vices like bigotry or racism, and engage with people with empathy and grace. It moves me deeply when someone makes the effort to see where the other person is coming from, no matter what their level of education, or their religion, or their beliefs and strives to make a difference in someone’s life, regardless of their background. That is what I aspire to. I struggle with that sometimes. I think everyone does, but that is what I aspire to, to have the compassion to interact with anyone, no matter what, in a very civil, very calm manner and be able to make a constructive difference no matter how small in someone's life.
My advice to current Rhodes Scholars – and I am sure they’re already a compassionate, beautiful bunch of people – is that it’s always good to be kind. It’s such a simple thing: you know, just smiling at people. In my faith, smiling is considered a form of charity. In a world weighed down by stress and uncertainty, being polite, being gentle, and looking out for each other can work quiet miracles. So, start with the simple things: if someone in your dorm or your house is sick, just knock on the door and ask, ‘Do you need anything?’ The older I’ve become, the more I’ve realised the importance of these little things we take for granted. Try to institute a little bit of kindness in your everyday life. It’s the surest way to make the world a beautiful place.