How 9-year-old Rumana celebrates Christmas—and endures persecution

Every morning when Rumana wakes up, she starts her day like many other 9-year-olds. 

She washes her face and eats breakfast. She prays about her day and asks God to bless her. She packs her pencils and schoolbooks in her backpack, and she sets off for school. 

But she walks the mile to school on her own. And when she gets to school, no one says hello or sits near Rumana in class. She’s surrounded by people at school, but she’s completely alone. 

All because she’s a Christian.

Rumana’s family is Christian in a predominantly Muslim village in northwest Bangladesh. People are reluctant to associate with them for fear of being rejected by the community. 

But more than that, they persecute Rumana and her family for leaving the majority religion and converting to Christianity. This is something the family has accepted as part of their Christian faith. It’s still difficult to hear how painful following Jesus is for Rumana, her two brothers and her parents. 

And yet, this young girl shows incredible strength. It’s clear almost immediately that she is determined to follow Jesus, no matter the cost. Persecution has affected almost every area of her life—but she does not waver from belief in a God who loves her. 

‘I’m just alone’ 

Rumana is in fifth grade. She must walk the mile to school because her family can’t afford to pay for a rickshaw ride. She doesn’t complain. She enjoys learning and so makes her way to school each day for lessons. But it’s here that Rumana's faith makes her most visibly an outcast. 

“I don’t have any friends in school because I’m a Christian and my parents are also Christian,” she says. “If I sit with them, their parents scold them saying, ‘She is a Christian. You can’t mingle with them because [Christians] are bad.’ My teachers [also] scold them saying, ‘Don’t mingle with the Christian. We will teach her but you don’t mingle with her. If you mingle with her, you might also become a Christian.’ So that’s why I don’t hang out with anybody. I’m just alone.” 

When students have breaks at school, they are allowed to run around in a field nearby. But other children refuse to let Rumana join in as they play. 

“I play alone with my toys,” she says. “They play together and have lots of fun. Watching them play from a distance brings me joy too.” 

“I play Kut Kut (a game similar to hopscotch),” she continues. “I also made up a game. I draw a circle in my notebook and put some numbers inside. Then I close my eyes and try to randomly place my pen on one of the numbers. Then I award myself a gift based on the number I land on. That’s how I play alone.” The children at school taunt Rumana with cruel comments about being a Christian but she chooses to say little in response—something that can frustrate her tormentors. “When they say something, I just keep smiling. Then they won’t know that I’m hurt. Otherwise, they will think I feel bad and that I will cry and they will do it more often. But I cry when I’m alone. Then they can’t see it.” 

Under the tears and the pain, Rumana has a remarkable perspective for someone of her age—and shows how God is at work in her heart and life. “I told God everything so I feel better,” she explains. “Why should I be angry at them? I forgive them. I don’t get angry at anyone. If I do, I’ll feel bad in my mind.” 

Occasionally her classmates act violently towards her. One day, she was sitting on the stairs and children pushed her. “I fell down [the stairs], and I was crying. But they were laughing, and nobody offered any help,” Rumana remembers. “I complained to my teacher, but he said, ‘You fell down on your own. Why would they push you?’ [My classmates] also lied to the teacher saying, 'She fell down on her own. We didn’t push her.’ My teacher didn’t listen to me and instead called me a liar.” 

Instead of fighting back, Rumana prays. 

“I pray to God every day for them,” she says. “Even in my lunchtime prayer, I also pray for them.” 

When Rumana comes home, she can finally find someone who cares about her persecution: “My mother says, ‘People will always mistreat you, but you should follow the Lord. You should always keep His words in your heart. It’s OK to be alone. You can always come home.’” 

This is a lot for a young child to handle. However, Rumana is not shy in speaking her mind. Once, her classmates asked why she studied there and not at a Christian school and she was bold in telling them that government schools were for children of all religions: Christians, Muslims and Hindus. 

She also wants to stay at her school because she knows that by receiving this type of education, she stands a better chance of fulfilling her dream: becoming a teacher.  


 

Teaching to help everyone

Rumana sees being a teacher as a chance to be a role model for children. She wants to be an inspiration to young people and give them hope. She wants to be a mother to those who are suffering like she does.

“People are persecuting me,” she says. “I will not let it happen to them. I will teach them. As I have a future, they also have a future. That is why I will teach them well. I will tell them, ‘Study as hard as you can. I was once like you, and I also suffered a lot. Now I’m teaching you. If you want, you can also become someone like me.’” 

But it’s not just children she wishes to educate. She believes many adults also have wrong thinking when it comes to the Christian faith. 

“I’ll teach them too so that they can also understand,” she explains. “Because there are some older people who don’t understand many things. If I don’t teach them, they will continue to believe that what they are following is right and what I’m saying is wrong. So for the betterment of our country, I’ll teach them.” 

She also sees that having the status of being a teacher will protect her. “My village is a big village,” she says. “But as I’m younger, no one believes my words now. They scold me and beat me. If I become a teacher, then no one can hit me. Then everyone should have to listen to the teacher.” 


 

Pain and ashes

Rumana and her family have endured many experiences where they were targeted because they follow Jesus. One time when Rumana’s mother was away from the house washing clothes, neighbors came to the house and started shouting at Rumana. 

“They started verbally abusing me and then they began pushing against the iron wall of our house,” she says. “It felt like they were trying to break it down. But I remained silent ... They were abusing me by calling me a prostitute! They said, ‘Come here, I’ll kill you today.’ But I didn’t go [to them].” 

Another time, some neighbors came to their house planning to beat her mother with a mop. And bricks were thrown at their home multiple times. But one of the most traumatic events for Rumana and her family happened one day when she returned from school. As she approached her home, all Rumana could see was fire and smoke billowing from the roof. The neighbors were holding on to her younger brother, while her mother was trying to put out the fire.

Rumana wasn’t sure what to do. “I was clueless, asking myself, ‘What should I do now?’” she remembers. “The fire was massive because there were lots of dry sticks in our house. No one from our village offered any help. All of them were just watching.”  Her father had rushed home from the place where he’d been working. The scene was devastating. 

“I saw my father crying and writhing on the ground,” she says. “There was nothing left from the house. It had all gone. I was crying too.” 

Rumana's father was so overcome by the trauma that he collapsed on the ground. The family asked a neighbor if they could take him to their home to rest. But the neighbors refused, saying they would be targeted by the community if they helped Rumana’s family. Instead, they asked one of their cousins if he could take Rumana’s father to the hospital. He, too, refused. 

Rumana’s father remained in distress. One woman took pity on him and let the family bring him inside to recover and an old friend of Rumana’s father, a Muslim man, gave them 1,000 BDT (slightly less than $10 USD) to pay for medical treatment. Someone called the village doctor. The doctor injected Rumana’s father with a saline solution, but Rumana’s father remained unresponsive. They could hear him crying to himself, “My house, my house.” 

Eventually, the pastor regained his senses, and the woman who owned the house where he was staying asked him to leave so she wouldn’t be ostracized by the neighborhood. 

So the family gathered Rumana’s father and left. With nowhere else to go, they built a shed in their yard and started living there. “No one allowed us to stay,” Rumana says. “With nothing to wear and uncertain about food, we were utterly helpless. We were all crying.” 

That day, the family lost most of their possessions. 

The next day, Rumana walked through the charred remains of their home and searched for anything she could salvage. Miraculously, some things survived— including a Bible. But Rumana was most concerned with two items she treasured: a Christian songbook that she had borrowed from Sunday School and a cup from school sports day when she won a race. She soon realized they were gone, reduced to ashes.


 

‘I’m very valuable to Jesus’

Despite the pain and the violence, the family continues to live for Jesus. And one constant source of joy for Rumana is Sunday school. It’s a time each week she can sing songs, learn about God and be with her friends—a place where she isn’t alone. “I love Sunday School because there is no jealousy, no fighting, and we can all play together,” she says. 

She loves the songs they sing. In particular, she loves one that goes: 

“As He forgives me. 
As He gave me life. 
As He forgives me. 
As He will come back again.” 
Another favorite song says: 
“Light, Light, Light. 
How beautiful it is to observe. 
On the first day, God came to the world. 
On the second day, there was provision. On the second day, there was provision. 
The beginning of a new life. 
The beginning of a new life.” 

But even getting to church has been scary for her in the past. Rumana remembers one incident when the village children challenged her as she was going to church, blocking her path. They mocked her faith and when she stood her ground, the confrontation turned physical. 

“They slapped me and ran away,” she says. “Then they threw stones at me.”  Rumana was hit and was hurt, but she knows complaining makes little difference. Now she goes to church in a tuk-tuk with a Sunday school friend and her father. It keeps her safe and helps her go to a place where she can grow in her faith. “Jesus loves me,” she says, simply. “It’s only because of Jesus’ love that I have survived until now, despite all the persecution. His love has guided me this far, and I know I am on the right path through His love."

She is resolute: “They can say bad things. I have no problem with that because I have Jesus Christ with me.” 

Rumana's Sunday school is run by Open Doors church partners. It’s all part of Open Doors’ mission to strengthen the church in Bangladesh, particularly in places where following Jesus can be so costly. Sunday school is a good way to provide training and hope for the future of Bangladesh’s church: kids like Rumana. There, they learn memory verses, worship God and are taught to pray—all valuable things to help endure persecution. 

She has also been taught about how much Jesus loves her. 

“I’m very valuable to Jesus,” she says. “I don’t fight with others or quarrel with them or misbehave toward them. I’m valuable to Him." 


 

A special day of togetherness

Christmas is a day of celebration for Rumana. It begins with putting on a new dress, something she looks forward to with joy. The family makes their way to the church her father leads, a simple structure with a mud floor and corrugated iron walls and roof, which they decorate with flowers. For Christian families who suffer persecution, Christmas Day is a chance to forget the bad things they endure for their faith and celebrate the One who gave them new life. 

But most of all, it’s a day where Rumana isn’t alone in her faith. She can rejoice and celebrate with other Christians, even as she continues to live in a community that despises her and her family. 

“I love to celebrate Christmas because all the Christians, including my Sunday school teacher, we gather around together singing songs and reading from the Bible,” she says. “Sometimes we read from a storybook. We recite the Bible verses we learned from Sunday school.” 

A special time comes after prayers. In what has become a tradition where they live, they celebrate Jesus’ birth with a cake. 

“After cutting the cake we have our fellowship meal together,” she says. “After that, we play. In the evening time, we come back home.”

At Christmastime, Open Doors’ partners hand out blankets to everyone. Winter temperatures drop considerably from the searing heat of the summer. Rumana knows the Christmas story from the Christian storybooks provided by Open Doors. She can recite Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth, and enjoys looking at the pictures. 

“I like the part when they named him Jesus Christ,” she says. “Also, the day Jesus was born, there was a big star. There was a nice big star. I saw it in the storybook you have provided me!” 

Rumana has already endured so much in her short life. And her family has endured much as well. She will likely continue to experience persecution and threats for her faith. It’s just part of being a follower of Jesus in this part of Bangladesh. 

And yet, times like the Christmas celebration give her the strength to carry on. She has people who love her, and who remind her of how much Jesus loves her, too. No matter how alone she feels when she goes to school each day, days like Christmas remind her she belongs to the Body of Christ. It’s why she can continue to walk with Him, even as she knows the path will be dangerous.