Meet Saima, also from Mumbra

The 16-year-old scored 91.33 per cent in the Secondary School Certificate exams, a record for this thickly populated 90-per cent Muslim neighbourhood on Mumbai8217;s north-eastern edge. But the news got overshadowed in Mumbra by the story of another girl who also went to Saima8217;s Abdulla Patel Girls High School8212;Ishrat Jahan.

Ishrat8217;s death in an encounter in Gujarat was just a week old when the SSC results came. And then Mumbra became news again.

Not for the first time. Mumbra, 35 km from Mumbai, lives with a dark tag. Since 2001, it8217;s yielded four Hizbul Mujahideen, two Lashkar and sundry SIMI activists and has frequented news columns.

The chaotic, troubled town8212;populated by the children of the 1992-93 riots8212;is the last place you might expect to find teeming with schools and junior colleges. 8216;8216;There are over 70 educational institutions in Mumbra and its twin village, Kausa. It is the highest number in Mumbai,8217;8217; says Syed Amina Ayub, principal of the English-medium section of Sumaiya High school. But students will tell you how difficult it is to be academic. Crime is common, jobs are few, and drop-outs rampant. It is from here that Saima springs up.

A narrow pathway leads to Nabeel Complex, standing in a row of residential buildings off the main station road. The building 8212; just a kilometre from Ishrat8217;s residence at Rashid Compound 8212; is inhabited by middle- and lower-middle class families of small traders and businessmen.

Saima8217;s is a two-room home with a wooden bench covered with a bedsheet for a sofa. An old TV set rests on the dusty wall unit. A pale, green washing machine peeps from behind the wall separating the living room and kitchen. As invitations for felicitations pour in, the teenager is seated on a chair, trying to look cheerful.

She has just returned after completing her admission process to the science stream at Bandodkar College, Thane. It8217;s just 7 km away, but the first time she has stepped out of Mumbra alone, mother Sultana says.

The Urdu-language topper thinks she should have got more: 8216;8216;I was expecting better results. I was expecting to top in English but scored only 89 on 100.8217;8217; She talks about how her parents were happy with her results. 8216;8216;My father was happy. He wants me to study further,8217;8217; she says, looking at her mother, waiting for her to agree.

But Sultana doesn8217;t. 8216;8216;Her father left us years ago,8217;8217; Sultana says bitterly. 8216;8216;I am taking care of my kids all alone.8217;8217;

Sultana, a class 12 pass-out from UP, teaches the Holy Quran to neighbourhood kids. 8216;8216;Every evening, 6 pm to 10 pm,8217;8217; she says, maintaining her stern demeanour. And then she softens. 8216;8216;Nearly 25 floors up and down each evening. I can8217;t do it anymore,8217;8217; the 40-year-old sighs. 8216;8216;But if I stop, how will my kids study?8217;8217;

For the mother, education is priority. Her 12-year-old son is also a ranking student from an English-medium school, she says. 8216;8216;In spite of tension from a broken home, Saima performed well. But I don8217;t know about the future,8217;8217; she laments. Saima dreams of becoming a doctor. But her pain reflects in her eyes. Mumbra8217;s topper knows without financial aid she can8217;t possibly cough up the fees for a Maharashtra medical education: anything from Rs 19,000 to Rs 2 lakh per year.

The family8217;s monthly income barely touches Rs 2,000 and Sultana has already paid Rs 1,180 as Saima8217;s admission fees. Her son8217;s fees come up to Rs 270 a month. Sultana has registered Saima8217;s name with a trust in Mahim in the hope of getting money for her education.