Even if we accept the dismal overall situation of public education in Pakistan, we must also accept that, at least in our urban and semi-urban areas, many more girls are getting an education than ever before. Where the public sector has failed, the private sector has stepped in. Educated women are a major resource for any society and, frankly, without participation of half of a population it is impossible for any society to progress economically or socially. Besides the obvious contribution to economic growth there are also other very important benefits of educating women that are not quite as obvious. From a personal perspective, I must admit that I was lucky to be born into a family where most women were well educated. My mother of sainted memory did her high school matriculation in 1936 and went on to medical school from where she got her licentiate diploma in 1941, where she also met my late father and eventually got married to him. She was the first girl/woman in her family to receive an advanced education and she made sure that her children, including my two sisters, received a proper education. As I grew up in the Lahore of the 1950s, living in an extended family environment, besides my mother I was surrounded by my father’s sisters and my older female cousins, all of whom pursued advanced education. My most favourite memories of my childhood in Lahore are of two of my female cousins, one who attended Fatima Jinnah Medical College and used to ride a bicycle to college every day, something that impressed me tremendously since I was not yet allowed to ride a bicycle myself. The other one kept trying to complete her master’s degree in English Literature and, as practice, would subject me to some of the classical English poets and to Shakespeare. Just imagine an eight-year-old male child having to figure out the deep meanings of: “Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever.” Worse was being subjected to continuous renderings of: “My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains my senses, as of hemlock I have drunk.” For my readers who have not recently re-read, Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale, it is a rumination on suicide. Clearly, being surrounded by well-educated women has its perils but the advantages were greater as I found out when I grew older. One major advantage of being subjected to such a background was that when I started doing The New York Times’ crossword puzzles, I actually knew that the English poet Shelley’s middle name was Bysshe! The other advantage was that I developed a major respect for well-educated women for, after all, they knew much more than I did and could even ride a bicycle when I could not. That brings me to the reasons behind why I am thinking about all of this. First, of course, is the well-deserved Nobel Peace Prize awarded to Malala Yousafzai. Malala is a symbol of the need to educate all children, especially girls. However, the other thing that makes me think about the education of women is a recent edict by the Pakistan Medical and Dental Council (PMDC) that restricted the admission of girls/women to medical colleges in Pakistan to 50 percent. According to the PMDC, 60 to 70 percent of all medical graduates are women and most of them do not go on to practice medicine. So, we have two competing narratives. The Malala narrative that suggests that children in general and girls in particular are deprived of a proper education and the PMDC narrative that too many women are getting a medical education even though most of them will never practice medicine. The question then is whether these two competing narratives are really opposed to one another. Perhaps not. Pakistan has more children out of school than most other countries. And the major reason for this is poverty. In a country where a majority subsists on less than two dollars a day, the education of children is rarely a priority, especially when it competes with the need to have an adequate amount of food to eat. That spurs the madrassa (seminary) culture, for good or bad. Poor families often have no choice but to send their children to religious seminaries where they are at least assured board, lodging and a decent meal. Much is said about Muslim conservatism impeding education for girls. I definitely agree that a small minority of Pakistanis, especially in the more conservative areas of the country or in rural areas, opposes education for girls on rather peculiar religious grounds, Swat under the Taliban being the perfect example. But my own experience, especially having taught for many years in a major medical college in Lahore, suggests that most religious conservatives are quite amenable to education for their female children. A walk through any of our institutions of higher learning will prove my point. In King Edward Medical College, I could see a significant number of young women attending classes and even treating male patients in the affiliated hospitals all dressed up in a hijab (full head covering) or even a niqab (veil). These young women obviously came from very conservative religious backgrounds and yet their parents were quite willing to let them pursue an advanced medical education. I have mentioned above some relatively under-represented advantages of women getting an education, even if they graduate from medical school and never practice medicine fulltime. Educated women are more capable of understanding the need for basic healthcare and are more likely to instil healthy lifestyles in their families. Also, considering the population explosion that we are seeing in Pakistan that is perhaps a major threat to our national well being; educated women are the best defence as far as family planning is concerned. And, finally, an educated mother is more likely to assure that her daughters and even her sons receive a proper education. The writer has practiced and taught medicine in the US. He can be reached at smhmbbs70@yahoo.com