From Kabul to the World | Column 1

This monthly column is written by a young Afghan women who is a student of international relations providing the world updates about what is happpening inside Afghanistan. Welcome to 'From Kabul to the world'

After a long day of classes in the International Relations department at Quaid Azam University, I leave campus and head straight to the library where my friend and I usually study. We work until late into the evening. By the time I return to my room, I search for a comfort, for an escape from the constant struggles of life in exile. When I close my eyes, I still see Kabul, the familiar streets, the mountains standing like silent guards, the sound of children playing but I also see something else, empty classrooms where girls' laughter once echoed. Doors locked, futures stolen. I did not leave Afghanistan because I wanted to, I left because I had to. When the Taliban announced that girls and women could no longer attend school and university, I watched my dream collapse overnight. For more than one year counting the days, but never seeing the light of a new beginning. I crossed the border with nothing more than a damaged passport, and my father’s words: study hard, make me proud. 

This is where my column begins: From Kabul to the World is not just about my journey, it is about millions of Afghan voices that remained unheard. It is about a girl in Kabul who hides her book under her pillow, the teacher in Herat who secretly teaches a few students or the mother in Kandahar who wonders if her daughter will ever be free. 

What is happening in Afghanistan?

The current government calls itself the Islamic Emirates of Afghanistan. But under its rule people are denied their most basic rights, especially women who have been erased from public life. Girls remain locked out of schools for over 1000 days now. And what is the world doing? watching, as if seeing  a tragedy play out on screen. Maybe they are tired of our story. Maybe these scenes have become too familiar to move them anymore. Silence is not always acceptable. Twenty years ago, Afghan women might have been forced to accept this reality. But we are no longer the same women. We studied, we worked with international organizations and we cannot accept discrimination. The film of Afghanistan’s struggle may still be playing, but it does not have to be only tragedy. Afghan women have known silence, discrimination and poverty, but we have also learned how to grow in the darkness. 

The Robotic Girls, A Symbol of What’s Possible. 

The Afghan girls robotic team is a powerful example of our courage, talent and refusal to surrender. Even in the hardest times, at such young ages they built robots, competed on the world stage, and won international awards often far from home, often carrying the weight of exile on their shoulders. Their story shows the world what Afghan girls can achieve when given the chance. And it forces us to ask: How many other brilliant girls remain in Afghanistan today, their potential locked away, their future stolen? 

I woke up and asked myself why I should write? I write because silence is dangerous. I write because I want the world to see Afghanistan not only as a place of war and suffering but also as a land of dreams and resilience. I write because the world needs to hear from Afghan women themselves, not just about them. Through this column, I hope to build a bridge to connect the streets of Kabul to the halls of the United Nations, from refugee camps to university classrooms. 

Every month, I will share not only political updates from Afghanistan but also the untold human stories behind them. I will write about the challenges of Afghan refugees, the courage of underground educators, the global responsibility towards women’s rights and my own experiences navigating life between two borders. If the Taliban wants the world to forget Afghan women, then I will make sure the world remembers us louder, clearer and stronger.

From Kabul to the World, our voices will travel, even if our bodies cannot.