Young, persecuted and hopeful: Persecuted in Bangladesh

There is a song Moryom loves to sing in Sunday School. The lyrics mean a great deal to her: 

Stay beside me, dear Jesus. 
I cannot live without You. 

This simple song includes truth for every Christian, of course. But for Moryom, a 9-year-old girl in Bangladesh, it’s a reminder of the hope that lies beyond the pain of her Christian walk. She’s been beaten, mocked, rejected and harassed—all because she and her family walk with Jesus. “Villagers don't like us because we are Christians,” she explains.  

It’s a heartbreaking reality for someone so young. 

And yet, Moryom isn’t someone who seems downcast. It’s clear that God is at work in her and in her family. 

Her story is hard, but the fingerprints of the Holy Spirit are all over it.
 

Abuse and harassment 

Moryom lives with her parents and older brother in a small village in northwestern Bangladesh. “We have a lot of trees, rivers, animals, and birds in our village. I really like my village,”  Moryom says. 

Her family has a small plot of land surrounded by a rice paddy on one side and a stream on the other. If not for the canopy of mango and jackfruit trees, their house and the adjacent church building—both built out of thin metal sheets—would almost be unlivable in the scorching heat. For as long as she can remember, this has been her home. 
Her parents are both active in their faith. Her mother teaches Sunday school and leads an adult literacy class. Her father is the pastor of the church on their property, serving as an evangelist in their Muslim-majority village and region. Both are converts from Islam, which often means brutal persecution in this part of Bangladesh. 

Moryom has already seen this reality. From a young age, she has experienced so much rejection and harassment because of her parents’ decision to serve God. Still, she refuses to let the hostility discourage her from following Jesus and sharing about Him with others. She wants to become a teacher like her mother, so Moryom loves to study. “I want to be a teacher, and my parents also [would] like me to be a teacher,” Moryom says. “When I become a teacher, I will tell all the children about Jesus. This is my dream.”   Despite this desire and her love for learning, school is not a safe place for Moryom. Each morning as she leaves for school, she never knows if she’ll be insulted or mistreated and whether the adversity will come from other children or adults. 

“I walk 2 kilometers to school because no one wants to take me in their rickshaw,” she explains. “If I want to ride in a rickshaw, people won't let me; they mock me, saying ‘Christian,’ and tell [other people] they shouldn't take me. I feel really sad when they kick me out of rickshaws, so, I pray to Jesus and continue walking alone.” 

This verbal abuse isn’t just from the community—it also comes from her peers. “When I go to school, I see some of my [classmates] on the way,” Moryom says. “They mock me, calling me ‘Christian.’ Sometimes they throw bricks at me and push me, but I still go to school.” 

Some days, Moryom tries to find a friend to accompany her, but no one in her village wants to be seen with a Christian. “On the way to school, I sometimes go to friends' houses so I can go [to school] with them,” Moryom says. “They say, ‘You are a Christian. If you come back to Islam, then we will go with you.’”


 

Loneliness—and forgiveness

At school, Moryom often spends her day alone. “Most of the people in my school don't treat me well,” she says. “Sometimes they beat me with sticks and call me ‘Christian’ as an insult. Even if I want to, I can't sit with my classmates. They won't let me sit with them. They don't allow me to play with them. They say, ‘You're a Christian! We will play with you only if you come back to Islam. Then we will sit with you and treat you well.’”

Her teachers are the only people who can help her, but they too turn a blind eye when children bully her. “One day, I was playing with one of my Muslim friends on the rooftop of my school,” Moryom remembers. “Suddenly, she pushed me off the roof [of this one-story building]. I had scratches all over my body, and I was hurt! When I complained to my teachers, they didn't take any action. Only one teacher listened to me. I didn't want to go to school anymore because my teachers weren't listening to my problems. I got very angry but still asked Jesus to forgive them.” 

You might expect Moryom to hate her classmates and teachers. But God is working through her young faith, and His power is at work within her. “I don't respond to them, but I pray for them, and I tell everything to Jesus,” she says. “Also, I pray for them a lot. Regardless of everything, I forgive them.” 

It’s not just school that’s difficult for Moryom. One day, while her parents were out, some Muslim women from the village tried to convert her to Islam. “I was walking alone on the road and met some local women Muslim leaders,” Moryom recalls. “They asked me to come over, and I went. Then they offered me some chocolates and asked me to repeat a verse from the Quran. They made me repeat, ‘There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.’ (Note: this statement is known as the Shahada, an Islamic creed recited by converts to Islam.) Then I came back home, and my parents asked where I got the chocolates from. I said that some religious leaders gave me this chocolate. My parents got very angry and chased after them.” 

Even as Moryom has been so oppressed, what she has learned about Jesus through her Sunday school keeps her grounded in her faith. She is not immune to the hurt, but she understands, in her own way, that this is the cost of being a follower of Jesus. Because of her faith, Moryom chooses to forgive others. 

“Because we are Christian—we accepted Jesus into our lives, that's why they treat us like this,” Moryom says. “Because Jesus died on the cross for my sins, I forgive my friends for their wrongdoings. Those who mistreat me, insult me, hate me, or don't love me, I forgive them all. I feel really sad. Sometimes I cry, but because I'm a Christian, I forgive them.” 

 

‘It’s a lot of fun to celebrate Jesus’ birth’

Persecution has become part of Moryom’s life, but she is also proud of her parents’ ministry. “My mother is a Sunday school teacher, and my father is an evangelist,” she says. “I really like that!”  

The one safe place Moryom and her family have is their church. Here, Moryom isn’t alone, she isn’t harassed, and she can worship Jesus openly. Sunday school is where she, like many other children of believers, feels accepted and cared for. “My mother conducts Sunday school for 13 to 14 kids,” Moryom says. “I really like Sunday school. There, we sing songs, dance and pray together. We also read from the Children's Bible.”  

The Children’s Bible that Moryom and her friends read and learn from is provided by Open Doors partners. Moryom loves reading Scripture! The colorful pictures and easy-to-read language make it all the more interesting to learn about God. She has even memorized entire passages from Psalms and many more Bible verses.  

Open Doors partners also support an annual Christmas gathering for Bangladeshi Christians and their children. Moryom can only look from a distance while most of the children in her community celebrate Eid and other Muslim festivals, so Christmas is her favorite time of the year. Because that is when she gets to celebrate a Christian festival. It's when Christians who live quite far from each other come together for fellowship. 

“On Christmas day, all our church members gather for the church service,” Moryom says. “We have lots of fun. We sing, dance, pray and read scriptures. We also wear new dresses. There are lots of people on Christmas day. I like it when we all come together. We celebrate Christmas because that's Jesus' birthday. It's a lot of fun to celebrate Jesus' birth by cutting a cake and eating it.” 

This kind of community is deeply meaningful for Moryom and other kids like her. It’s a respite from the daily pressure she faces. And it’s a time she can feel the love of Jesus and other Christians. Plus, Sunday school is also where she can sing her favorite song—and be reminded of the hope of Jesus, no matter what: 

Stay beside me, dear Jesus. 
I cannot live without You.Hallelujah! 
With Your life, You saved us. 
You bought me with the cost of Your blood. 
With Your life, You saved us. 
You bought me with the cost of Your blood. 
Stay beside me, dear Jesus. 
I cannot live without You. 
You took all our sins on Your shoulders. 
You sacrificed Your life on the cross for our redemption. 
You took all our sins on Your shoulders. 
You sacrificed your life on the cross for our redemption. 
Stay beside me, dear Jesus. 
I cannot live without you. 
Hallelujah! 

Open Doors, through local partners in Bangladesh, helps children like Moryom who live isolated lives amid persecution. This support is meant to keep their spark alive—to keep their faith from being overwhelmed by the pressures around them. Thanks to your support, these children received their own Bibles, and they can have their own Sunday school, where seeds of faith are sown into their lives. But they continue to experience daily persecution, and your gift today can help provide encouragement and support to kids like Moryom and other believers around the world.