Muniba Mazari is a Pakistani artist, motivational speaker, activist, and model, known for her inspiring journey of resilience. Born on March 3, 1987, she became paralyzed after a car accident in 2007, but she turned adversity into strength. Muniba is the National Ambassador for UN Women Pakistan and was featured in BBC’s 100 Women in 2015. Recognized for her advocacy of women’s rights and disability inclusion, she was also listed in Forbes 30 under 30 in 2016. Through her art, public speaking, and activism, Muniba continues to empower individuals worldwide to embrace their imperfections.
She delivered a beautiful speech titled “We All Are Perfectly Imperfect”. The brief of the speech is given below.
We All Are Perfectly Imperfect By Muniba Mazari
Thank you so much for all the love, for all the warmth.
Thank you all for accepting me.
Thank you very much.
Well, I always start my talk with a little disclaimer. And that disclaimer is that I never claimed to be a motivational speaker. Yes, I do speak. But I feel like a storyteller. Because wherever I go, I share a story with everyone.
I believe in the power of words. Many people speak before they think, but I know the value of words. Words can make you, break you, heal your soul, or damage you forever. So, I always try to use positive words in my life.
Wherever I go, they call it adversity; I call it opportunity. They call it a weakness; I call it strength. They call me disabled; I call myself differently-abled. They see my disability, I see my ability.
There are some incidents that happen in your life, and those incidents are so powerful that they change your DNA. Those incidents are so strong that they break you physically, they deform your body, but they transform your soul. They break you, they deform you, but they mold you into the best version of yourself. And the same thing happened to me.
I was 18 years old when I got married. I come from a very conservative Baloch family. My father wanted me to get married, and all I said was, “If that makes you happy, I will say ‘YES’.” And of course, it was never a happy marriage.
About two years after getting married, around 9 years ago, I met with a car accident. Somehow, my husband fell asleep, and the car went off the road and into a ditch. He managed to jump out and saved himself, and I am happy for him. But I stayed inside the car and sustained severe injuries.
My right arm was fractured, my wrist, shoulder bone, and collarbone were broken, and because of rib cage injuries, my lungs and liver were badly damaged. I couldn’t breathe. I lost control of my bladder. That’s why I have to wear a bag wherever I go.
But those injuries changed me and my life completely. My perception of life was altered, especially after the spinal injury. My backbone was completely crushed, and I was paralyzed for the rest of my life.
The accident took place in a remote area of Balochistan, where there was no first aid, no hospital, and no ambulance. I was in the middle of nowhere. Many people came to rescue me, and as they dragged me out of the car, I suffered a complete dislocation of my spinal cord. A debate started amongst them: should we leave her here because she’s going to die, or should we take her somewhere? There was no ambulance, just a jeep nearby. They threw me in the back and rushed me to the hospital.
That’s when I realized half of my body was paralyzed, and half was fractured. I ended up in a hospital where I stayed for two and a half months, undergoing multiple surgeries. Doctors inserted titanium plates into my arms and back. That’s why, in Pakistan, people called me the “Iron Lady.”
Sometimes I wonder how I can describe all of this without getting emotional. Someone once said that when you share your story and it doesn’t make you cry, it means you are healing. Those two and a half months in the hospital were dreadful. I don’t just tell this story to inspire you. I was on the verge of despair.
One day, a doctor told me that I could never paint again because my wrist and arm were so deformed. The next day, he told me I would never be able to walk again. Then, he told me that I wouldn’t be able to have children. I was devastated. I still remember asking my mother, “Why me?” and that was the moment I started questioning my very existence. What was the point of living if I couldn’t walk, paint, or be a mother?
But in that distress, my mother’s words were magical. She told me, “This too shall pass. God has a greater plan for you.” Those words kept me going. I knew that if I gave up, my family would give up too, and I couldn’t bear to see them cry with me.
So one day, I asked my brother to bring me some colors. I wanted to paint. And that’s when I realized that my first painting, made on my deathbed, wasn’t just art—it was therapy. Through painting, I could express what words couldn’t.
Eventually, I was discharged and went home. I was bedridden for another two years, confined to a room, listening to birds chirp and dreaming of the day I could go outside and enjoy nature. That time made me realize how lucky people are, yet they don’t appreciate it.
It was during this period that I celebrated my “rebirth.” Two and a half years later, I sat in a wheelchair for the first time, knowing I would never walk again. I looked in the mirror and said to myself, “I cannot wait for a miracle to make me walk. I cannot sit in a corner, crying and begging for mercy. I have to accept myself as I am.” And that day, I decided to live for myself, not to be perfect for anyone else.
I wrote down my fears, one by one, and decided to overcome them. My biggest fear was divorce. But I liberated myself by letting go of that fear. The second fear was never being able to be a mother. But I chose to adopt a child, and today, my son is six years old.
I also feared facing people. I used to hide from everyone, especially because I couldn’t stand their sympathy. But now, I am here, speaking to you all because I overcame that fear.
The biggest fear of all was the lack of acceptance—people with disabilities often feel like they are not accepted by the world. So instead of starting an NGO for disabilities awareness, I chose to appear more in public. I painted, modeled, and became the national goodwill ambassador of UN Women Pakistan. I now speak for the rights of women and children, for inclusion, diversity, and gender equality.
I was featured in BBC 100 Women for 2015 and in Forbes 30 under 30 for 2016, and none of this would have happened alone.
So remember, on the road to success, it’s always ‘We’—together we rise, together we break barriers, and together we make the world a more inclusive place. Thank you.