A Girl Who Believed Only in Herself; She Fought and Cried in Silence

I am a girl who grew up in a remote area of Afghanistan. My work was cleaning house and taking care of the livestock. Many people didn’t even consider me a person. Maybe it was inherited, maybe it was injustice and environment, that made me so shy that my classmates and teachers used to say:

“Why are you studying? With this shyness you cannot go to university.”

But I passed the Kankor exam, and because of my high scores I received a full scholarship to India. However, because the conditions for studying and working in Afghanistan were available at that time, I did not want to go abroad, and I was not happy at all.

Again in the university, everyone said:

“Why are you studying? With this shyness you cannot find a job.”

After graduating with persistence and hard work, and maybe earlier than my classmates I found a job.

But everyone asked the same question:

“Who was your connection?”

No one asked how hard you worked, how many times you applied, how many failed exams and interviews you had, how much you suffered when you saw injustice against you in a country known for prejudice and corruption.

But one Thursday, 12 August 2021, while we were in the office, a supervisor came and said:

“You can take your computer home because the situation is unsafe; there is a possibility of collapse.”

For me it was impossible to imagine or believe that the government would fall, but our work shifted to home.

On Friday, 13 August 2021, I wandered in the market for three hours to buy solar panels because we did not have stable electricity.

On Sunday, 15 August 2021, the first working day of the week, at 11 o’clock, while I was sitting behind my office computer working, suddenly I heard the scream of a neighbor:

“The Taliban have reached Qala-e-Naw!”

I ran outside; everyone was shouting and worried, afraid of the Taliban’s arrival, afraid because their loved ones were outside.

I understood that the education and job I had fought for over the years were gone.

Its pain made me numb; I no longer had the strength to turn on the computer or open a book, while before I didn’t want to waste even five minutes.

But after two weeks, I decided to start again.

The first step was to learn English so I could have the opportunity to study abroad.

When I learned English, I decided to apply, but I had no idea how to find scholarships, how to write a motivation letter, how to fill in the application.

I reached out to anyone and everyone; many didn’t respond at all. Many said they had no time. Many asked for money.

In the end, I had no guidance. I stayed awake from night until morning because the night internet was cheaper.

But in the end, I found my way.

Still, I had more than 20 semi-funded scholarship offer letters from more than 10 countries. But because they were not full scholarships, I couldn’t use them.

Outwardly, I was calm. I smiled and did my work.

But my heart was drenched in blood—from the earth, from time, and from the sky.

Why must I endure all this suffering?

What should I have done that I didn’t do?

Why should I lose so many opportunities?

But with all this, I turned every pain into a lesson, growth, and opportunity.

Maybe if I had not experienced these challenges, I would never have grown, and I would never have thought about helping others.