Sargodha, —known as the “City of Oranges”—home to 96% of the nation’s orange production, thrives on the fruit that not only beautifies the land but also sustains its economy, with sprawling groves and over 250 processing centers supporting the livelihoods of over 250,000 people. Growing up in a village, Chak 36 SB of Sargodha, the vast orchards taught me early on how far I could walk, how much I could explore, and the boundless beauty of nature. The sweet aroma of oranges awakened a deep sense of goodness, a warmth and energy that I carry with me to this day. The vivid color itself became a symbol of strength, vitality, and inspiration—qualities I would later channel into my leadership. I used orange in everything from my peace campaigns materials to my clothing. As I walked among those orange trees, grounded in the soil of the Green Pakistan, my own journey of leadership began to take shape, inspired by three influential figures: my mother, my brother, and the martyr Bishop John Joseph. Their influence taught me that leadership requires the heart of a dreamer, the strength of a leader, and the courage of a human rights defender to lift others as we rise.
The first leader in my life was my mother, Ammi Jee, a woman of remarkable wisdom, strength, and vision. She was a dreamer who believed in a better world, one where education was not a privilege but a right, regardless of gender or religion. Raised in a deeply patriarchal society, Ammi refused to accept limitations on her daughters’ education. She was determined that her daughters would pursue a Master’s-level education, despite the absence of a university in Sargodha. Ammi was a respected teacher in our community and my first mentor in leadership. She didn’t teach through words alone but through her everyday actions. In a society where women’s voices were often stifled, Ammi was a sign of strength and dignity. Every morning, as she led her schoolgirls along the dusty streets of our village, her chador (scarf) flowing like a flag of honor, she demonstrated the quiet power of leadership. I learned from her in small, meaningful moments. Each morning, I chose to walk to school instead of being carried by my mother, my tiny steps leaving a trail of six-by-six inches footprints behind me. My pace, deliberate yet laborious, often frustrated my mother as she patiently followed behind. She worried about being late and urged me to walk faster, saying, “Ruby, you must walk faster.” But I remained determined, signaling my resolve. What truly shaped me as a leader was her ability to foster my resilience and independence. As a teacher, she recognized the value of nurturing individual potential and applied this philosophy in every aspect of life. She taught me that leadership lies in trusting oneself and guiding with quiet strength, not exerting control. Through her, I learned that leadership is about empowering others, not commanding them.
My younger brother Kamran Bhatti also played an instrumental part in my leadership journey, not only as a sibling but as my most trusted companion and dearest confidant. In our youth, we wove joyful, meaningful memories together, exploring sun-drenched orange groves and gathering fruit—which gave me a profound sense of liberty and expanded my view of the world, despite the constraints often imposed by societal expectations. These early years became the foundation of my leadership, teaching me the power of choice and self-determination, even when the world seemed to limit my possibilities. As I stepped into adulthood, my brother’s steadfast presence became more indispensable. When I took the daring leap from a stable career as a chemistry lecturer to the unknown path of establishing a nonprofit, he stood steadily by my side, undeterred by the societal judgment that saw such a shift as a retreat. In a society where the arts and NGOs were often dismissed, Kamran’s encouragement became a guiding light, empowering me to follow my passion for promoting theater and music—fields not traditionally appropriate for women in our culture. When he embarked on a career in film, his faith in me grew even stronger. He never hesitated to introduce me to Lollywood stars on set, making me feel truly immersed in those creative spaces. One moment stands out: While shooting with renowned director Hasan Askari, Kamran gestured toward him and said to me, “Observe how he positions the camera”—he then asked the director to share his techniques with me. He never objected to seeing me march in the streets for causes like restoring the joint electorate and the 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence. If I inherited the heart of a dreamer from my mother, I received the strength of a leader from my brother, whose unwavering support and guidance helped shape who I am today.
The third influential leader in my life was Bishop John Joseph, whose vision of justice, unity, and interfaith harmony left a lasting impression on me. He was a lighthouse of courage and compassion, advocating for the rights of marginalized communities and promoting peace between religious groups. Bishop John, a martyr for peace, played a key role in building the Rabbata Pull (Connecting Bridge) in Eassa Nagri, Faisalabad to weave interfaith harmony by enhancing accessibility between a Christian and a Muslim village.
I still remember my first interaction with Bishop John as he addressed the rally in Sargodha, protesting the inclusion of a religious column in national identity cards in early 90s. He said, “Never believe that being a minority means you are outnumbered. When you unite and step forward, you will be countless in the streets—women, men, children, and the elderly. Find the courage to march for your cause, and together, you will raise your voice and protect your rights.” Bishop John’s influence is one of faith-driven action, emphasizing both dialogue and practice, coupled with the courage in the face of oppression. From him, that marching with courage goes beyond just taking steps in the streets; it embodies standing up for what’s right despite the odds. I learned that courage has the power to liberate not only the individual, but also those around them—to break boundaries, to broaden horizons, and to bring people together. Through his leadership, he showed that even when outnumbered or in a position of lesser influence—whether as a woman, a child, or otherwise—courageously standing up for a cause can still lead to a profound impact. His principles continue to guide me today.
Though my heart still aches from the loss of my mother, my brother Kamran—taken too soon at just 42—and Martyr Bishop John, I carry their spirits within me, and their influence fuels my every step. I am still deeply immersed in the vibrant orange groves of Green Pakistan. The leadership of citrus reminds us that when the bright hues of orange and green blend, it is as though the very soul of the brown soil comes alive. We are all sons and daughters of this land, proud Pakistanis, regardless of our faith. Together, we contribute to a future brimming with prosperity and peace for our beloved country.