After passing my 5th-grade exams in Shimshal, I left my village for the next stage of my education. It took three days of arduous travel to reach my maternal grandfather’s home in Hussaini, where I would stay to continue my studies. The very next day, my uncle, Gulam Rasul, took me to Government Boys High School in Gulmit for admissions. On our way to Gulmit, many students passed us hurriedly, even my cousin, who said we needed to reach the school before Ustad Sultan Ali arrived. Another student remarked that if we didn’t get there first, we’d have to run behind Ustad Sultan Ali. I had heard of Ustad Sultan Ali Samarqand from my father and my teacher back in Shimshal, so I was already familiar with his reputation. However, the students’ urgency to reach before him heightened my curiosity to meet him.
As we reached Goz Gulmit, a man emerged from a narrow street, greeted my uncle, and quickly moved past us. He was so fast that we couldn’t catch up. My uncle informed me that this was Ustad Sultan Ali. Soon after, we saw him leave the jeep road and disappear into another narrow street. When my uncle and I finally arrived at the middle school—a single-room structure—the students were reciting the morning prayer. My uncle stood beside me as we observed the Qaumi Naghma (national anthem) in respectful silence. As the prayer concluded, teachers inspected each student for cleanliness, and everyone lined up to join their respective classes.
My uncle introduced me to Ustad Sultan Ali, who stood on the veranda. He pointed toward a group of students under an apricot tree and instructed me to join them. As I walked over, I spotted my friend Sher Ali, and Ustad Ali Pana, another teacher, was taking attendance. Ustad Ali Pana welcomed me with a pat on my shoulder and noted my name in the register. He asked another student to take care of me, but I can’t recall who it was as I soon forgot his face.
There were no offices for the headmaster or staff rooms at the school, so Ustad Sultan Ali continued talking with my uncle on the veranda. I observed that only three teachers managed the entire middle school with nine classes and approximately 200 students. Alongside Ustad Sultan Ali, Ustad Ali Pana, and Ustad Ibadat Shah, tirelessly worked with no free periods. Throughout the day, Ustad Sultan Ali visited our class six times, each time giving instructions before moving on to another class. He seemed to oversee three to four classes in a single period, constantly shifting between them.
I was fascinated by his dedication. Ustad Sultan Ali arrived in our class after Ustad Ali Pana, instructing everyone to open their English books. Since it was my first day, I had no books. Ustad Sultan Ali read a paragraph aloud, translating it into Urdu. A few students followed suit. He then appointed the class monitor to dictate the paragraph while he went to another class, promising to return to check our work. The monitor began dictating with great fluency, but I was unable to write even a single word, as I did not know the English alphabet. When Ustad Sultan Ali returned and saw my blank page, he advised me to complete my work by the next day. He moved on before I could explain my struggle. Determined, I purchased my own books after school and began working on my English. Within a week, I could write two- to three-letter words, encouraged by Ustad Sultan Ali’s persistent reinforcement.
A month later, we moved to a new school building with eight teachers, but Ustad Sultan Ali continued with the same tireless commitment. He would step into classes whenever another teacher was absent. Sultan Ali was a master of all subjects—he taught English, Persian, Urdu, Arabic, Math, Social Studies, and Islamiat. His fluency in four languages—Brusheki, Shina, Khowar, and Wakhi—was a source of amazement to us all.
In addition to his teaching responsibilities, Ustad Sultan Ali was an avid reader. Our school had a small library, and one day, as I approached it, unsure of which book to choose, I saw Ustad Sultan Ali reading a newspaper. When I asked for a book, he glanced at me and requested another teacher to select an interesting one. Before the teacher could decide, he recommended Suteli Maa, a captivating book with many life lessons. That moment taught me not only about choosing books but also that our teachers read the same children’s books, immersing themselves in what we read.
Ustad Sultan Ali was known for encouraging hard work, but he also celebrated small achievements. I remember two instances when his encouragement lifted my spirits. Once, when my father came to visit me, he waited in the school playground. As soon as I saw him, I rushed over. After a while, Ustad Sultan Ali joined us, telling my father that I was a hardworking student and encouraging him to continue my education. He pointed at me and said, “He can be a brilliant man.” I knew I wasn’t among the top students, but his words gave my father confidence and solidified his commitment to supporting my education.
Another time, I was walking from Hussaini to Gulmit when a van stopped beside me. Ustad Sultan Ali stepped out, hugged me, and introduced me to the passengers as a “wonderful poet.” He mentioned that he had heard my poetry, recorded by Muhammad Amin, another student from Shimshal. I was filled with happiness and forgot about the long walk as I made my way to Gulmit.
Beyond the classroom, Ustad Sultan Ali was a community mobilizer, a leader of change not only in Gojal but throughout Hunza. I was told that he once walked from Khizerabad to Chipurson in just three days, spreading awareness about the importance of education. When I was in Gulmit, he even walked up to Shimshal for exams and encouraged the community to prioritize education.
Fazal Amin Baig, writing for Pamir Times, highlighted Ustad Sultan Ali’s contributions: “Sultan Ali, a teacher from Hunza, has made significant contributions to the region, especially in education. He is celebrated for promoting learning among youth and inspiring generations to pursue knowledge and community service. His impact goes beyond the classroom, reflecting a broader commitment to the development and well-being of the Hunza Valley and surrounding areas.” As the Chairman of Aga Khan Education Services for Hunza in the 1970s, Ustad Sultan Ali played a key role in upgrading several Diamond Jubilee Schools and establishing the Aga Khan Academy in Karimabad, now known as the Aga Khan Higher Secondary School.
Ustad Sultan Ali was more than a teacher; he was a social reformer. His son, Dr. Salman Ali, shared on social media: “Happy Father’s Day. He produced the first generation of educated workforce from Hunza starting from 1946 and never looked back till his last breath. He had an elegant handwriting and exceptional command of English, Persian, and Urdu, both written and spoken. He was fluent in four languages of GB: Brushaski, Shina, Khowar, and Wakhi. A great football and polo player, and a brisk walker, he traveled to remote areas like Chitral, Hunza, Shimshal, and Chupursan. He would keep himself informed with international knowledge through books and journals. He would often fall asleep reading, his glasses still on, and wake up before dawn for prayers. He always pushed us to aim high.” In conclusion, Ustad Sultan Ali enlightened every household in Hunza with knowledge and wisdom. He left a lasting legacy, not just through his own children, but through the countless lives he impacted. His son, Mir Salman Ali, became the first general from Gilgit-Baltistan, and his other children continue to serve the community, following in their father’s footsteps. May God grant his soul eternal peace. Hunza will never
