The story of Omar Khairin Dallah, so far
When I was three, my parents noticed something different about me. I struggled with eye contact, had delayed speech, and displayed behaviors that set me apart from other kids. At four, I was diagnosed with autism. My parents didn’t let this define me. Instead, they sought the best interventions, ensuring I had speech therapy, occupational therapy, and behavioral support. They also never treated me differently, giving me responsibilities and encouraging independence.
Growing up with autism meant facing challenges. Sensory overload was a constant battle—loud noises, unfamiliar environments, and sudden changes unsettled me. Social interactions were tricky; I often misread cues and struggled with small talk. But my parents always believed in me. My mother, especially, played a huge role in developing my social skills. She exposed me to new experiences, encouraging me to engage with the world despite my fears.
One of my biggest hurdles was adjusting to school life. I had meltdowns, struggled with making friends, and found it difficult to express my thoughts. But with patience and determination, I slowly adapted. By secondary school, I was more comfortable in my own skin. I learned to navigate social situations and even participated in extracurricular activities. Still, I often felt like I was in a world of my own, trying to find where I belonged.
Everything changed when I discovered volunteering. Initially, I was hesitant—socializing in a team setting was intimidating. But I took a leap of faith and joined Team Selangor, a community-driven volunteer organization. It was here that I found my passion.
At first, I took on simple tasks, gradually building my confidence. My breakthrough moment came when I was given the responsibility to interact with people directly. One of my earliest events was a blood donation drive. I had to approach strangers and encourage them to donate—something I never imagined myself doing. To my surprise, I enjoyed it. I realized that volunteering wasn’t just about helping others; it was also about personal growth.
Through Team Selangor, I took part in various initiatives—environmental clean-ups, community outreach programs, and even event management. Each experience pushed me out of my comfort zone. One of the most memorable moments was assisting at a concert. Before volunteering, concerts seemed overwhelming—bright lights, loud music, and huge crowds. But being part of the organizing team gave me a sense of purpose. Instead of feeling overwhelmed, I felt empowered.
Volunteering also helped me build meaningful friendships. For the first time, I felt a true sense of belonging. My teammates saw me for who I was, not just my diagnosis. They valued my contributions and treated me as an equal. This acceptance boosted my self-confidence, proving that autism wasn’t a barrier—it was just a different way of experiencing the world.
Beyond volunteering, I discovered my passion for public speaking. I started sharing my experiences with autism, hoping to inspire others. I wanted to show that autism is not a limitation. It is simply a different way of thinking, feeling, and perceiving the world. If given the right support and opportunities, individuals with autism can thrive.
Looking back, I am grateful for the journey that has shaped me into who I am today. My autism, once a source of struggle, is now a source of strength. Volunteering has taught me resilience, empathy, and the power of stepping outside my comfort zone. I hope my story encourages others—whether they are on the spectrum or not—to embrace challenges and find their own paths to success.
To parents of children with autism, I say this: never underestimate your child’s potential. With patience, understanding, and encouragement, they can achieve incredible things. And to those who are hesitant about volunteering—take that first step. You might just discover a new version of yourself, just like I did.
Omar Khairin Dallah has dyslexia since he was a kid so this reflection was written by Omar, with the help of his father.
