She learned to drive while expecting her second son. She rebuilt her confidence step by step. Most importantly, she chose a different future for her boys.

“I don’t want my sons to grow up thinking it’s okay to oppress a woman,” she says. “I made myself independent. I’m not scared anymore.”

Friendship became a turning point. Through the school gates, she began forming connections that slowly lit the darkness she had lived through. As Razia says:

“It’s friends that help you come out of a dark place. They put a light in your life and give you hope that you’re not alone.”

She values connection which flows into all areas of her life.

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At the heart of Razia’s story is her family album -  a carefully curated collection of photographs, handprints, scans, cards and memories. Some images are cut and reshaped. Some are preserved tenderly. Together they form a narrative where joy and love are centred. The album is an act of reclamation: piecing together what was lost, recreating happiness intentionally, reminding her children that alongside hardship there has always been celebration.

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In her photographs, Razia wears her wedding dress. Not as regret, but as acceptance. It stands as a quiet declaration: there is no shame in her past. It happened. She learned. She grew. And new opportunities await.