Weaving My Stories, as a Toastmaster
by TM Shazia Nazir
VPPR of Bhavans’ Toastmasters Club, Kuwait
When I walk into Bhavan’s Toastmasters Club, I don’t just see members.
I see the threads that weave into my own story. Each face, each smile, each voice has, in some way, carried me through my journey.
- DTM Anilkumar with his steady encouragement,
- DTM Sheeba with her quiet strength,
- TM Latif with his heartfelt words,
- and even the laughter of new members like TM Imran & TM Jegan
… all of them have stitched themselves into my speeches.
It is as if every time I stand at the lectern, I am not standing alone; I am standing on the shoulders of this family. Their stories echo in mine, and mine echo back in theirs.
That is the magic of Bhavan’s—it isn’t just a club, it is a loom where our lives, struggles, and triumphs are woven together into something larger, something unforgettable.
It was January 11, 2025, Bhavan’s Toastmasters Club, Meeting #302. The theme was “Rising Strong.” I remember it as if it were yesterday, because I wasn’t even a member yet. I was just a guest, sitting in the third row beside DTM Sheeba Premugh, clutching the agenda nervously, wondering what I had stepped into.
The meeting began at exactly six o’clock. The room buzzed with quiet anticipation as members shuffled papers, adjusted chairs, and exchanged greetings. At the back, our Sergeant-at-Arms, TM Abdullah, was checking the agenda. I sat there with my palms sweaty, my heart pounding, feeling like an outside.
And then DTM Premugh began to speak. His words weren’t just structured—they were stripped bare. He spoke of failure, of falling, of clawing his way back. His voice trembled at points, but it was that tremble that reached me. In that moment, I realized that what held me wasn’t his skill or his polish—it was his story.
I sat there in awe, my throat tight, and my mind whispered:
”If stories could hold me this tightly, then maybe my own stories, messy, painful, imperfect as they are, could hold someone else too.”
That was the seed. A seed so small, it could have gone unnoticed. But seeds carry quiet power. That night, it took root in me. My life no longer felt like random chapters of hardship and hollow victories. I began to see that every conversation, every mistake, every scar I carried might be more than just mine to bear… they could be stories, and stories have the power to connect.
That seed bore fruit on May 24, 2025, when I finally delivered my Icebreaker at Meeting #311. I titled it “The Power of Saying No.” There was nothing glamorous about it. It was the story of a night in October 2023, when I was still drowning at Safir Hotels & Resorts, handling seven departments alone. By 2:15 a.m., I was still in my office, my dinner cold, and my children already asleep. I hadn’t spoken to them all day. That pain, that guilt, became my speech. I shared how, for years, I had said yes to everything, believing that endurance was a sign of strength. But strength, I realized, is sometimes in the no that protects your sanity, your family, your very self.
When I finished, it wasn’t the applause that stayed with me. It was when TM Latif quietly walked up and said,
“Shazia, that story wasn’t just yours. It spoke to me too.”
That moment showed me the truth: stories don’t just express, they connect. They turn one person’s exhaustion into another person’s release, one woman’s guilt into another man’s courage.
Stories had always been in my life. After my father passed away in 2002, my mother would gather us and tell us stories of resilience. They weren’t bedtime tales—they were survival lessons. Her words wrapped around us like a blanket, reminding us that even in grief we could rebuild. Years later, I found myself doing the same for my children.
In July 2025, I told a story at the club that I almost didn’t dare to share. It was about losing my temper at a colleague, one of my first experiences as a leader. On the surface, it was a workplace conflict. He made mistakes, he struggled to focus, but he had potential. The truth, as I admitted that night, was that my reaction wasn’t about him—it was about me. About the fears I carried for my son, Fawaz, who has ADHD. My impatience at work mirrored my panic at home: Will my child ever find his way? Am I failing him?
That evening, I bared my turning point… choosing to pause, to listen, to replace confrontation with communication. When I finished, the room was silent.
Not the silence of boredom, but the silence of hearts leaning in. Afterward, DTM Anilkumar Revanker came to me and said,
“Shazia, you didn’t just tell a story. You held up a mirror for us.”
And I knew then that once you share your story, it no longer belongs to you. It becomes a mirror in which others see themselves.
I saw it again at Meeting #311 on May 24, 2025, where I served as Toastmaster of the Day. Our speaker, TM Abdulla Hassan, began with a simple memory: walking into a pharmacy for the first time as a new medical rep, his hand trembling on the door handle. He didn’t start with facts or quotes. He started with a story. And just like that, he had us in the palm of his hand.
Audiences don’t crave perfection. They crave connection. When I spoke about starting over at Gluten Free Collective on October 1, 2024, no one remembered my strategy or slides. What they remembered was me, standing in a flour-dusted kitchen, hands sticky with dough, whispering,
“This is messy, but so am I, and maybe that’s okay.”
That moment landed deeper than any polished plan ever could. I began collecting stories, jotting them down in a “story bank” on my phone. Small fragments:
- Halimah sitting cross-legged on the floor, fighting with her French homework at 10:45 p.m.
- An argument with my brother Irfan, over dinner that wasn’t really about food, but about fatigue.
- A nervous message from my brother, TM Imran, before his first speech, reminding me of my own Icebreaker fear.
These fragments, these little scraps of life, became the bones of speeches that touched others. Toastmasters has been more than a club for me. It has been a sanctuary, a crucible. A place where scars turned into stories, and stories into strength.
Eight months in, I have learned my speeches aren’t about impressing people. They are about expressing truth…
… even when my voice shakes, even when my eyes sting with tears.
And every time I stand to speak, I feel it: the ashes of who I was falling away, and the fire of who I am becoming. A phoenix, not rising to shine alone, but to set the room alight with connection. Because the stories we live are the stories we must tell. And when I tell mine, it is never just about me…
… it is always about us.
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Toastmaster Shazia Nazir, who joined Toastmasters on January 1st, 2025, and currently serves as the Vice President Public Relations for Bhavan’s Toastmasters Club. Professionally, she is an Operations Manager at Gluten Free Collective and a Brand Development Strategist at Nawateq. She also mentors young graduates in marketing strategies, social media management, and systems architecture, empowering them to build meaningful careers. Beyond her professional life, Shazia volunteers with Call for Rise, a welfare society in Pakistan, and is a devoted mother of two. Known for her passion, empathy, and drive for excellence, she believes in creating impact through purpose and positivity.