Even This will pass...

My life felt like a country raised on explosions, until one day I crossed into a place where silence didn’t mean fear.

I was raised in a country where a normal day was filled with stress and fear. Explosions were common. Kidnappings were normal. Women had no rights; they couldn’t work, drive, or dress the way they wanted. Girls had to wear a hijab to school no matter their age. Teachers would hit us with anything they could find rulers, pieces of wood, wires  or slap us over the smallest mistakes.

There were nights I went to sleep unsure if morning would find me.

We lived in a huge but terrifying old house. Every wall had deep cracks from constant earthquakes. The roof was uneven from heavy winter snow. We didn’t have a proper shower. We had to heat water every day just to wash. Something in that house was always breaking, and we paid so much money for a place that felt unsafe. But we were used to it. That was our normal.

Some mornings and evenings, we would hear nonstop explosions. Sometimes the house shook so hard that glass shattered and new cracks appeared in the walls. Fear lived with us.

I never really had true friends there. If I did, I was betrayed the next day. I stopped searching and spent most breaks alone. Sometimes I sat with classmates who didn’t like me, but as I grew older, I made a few friends and then they moved countries or changed schools. I was alone again. Strangely, it was peaceful. I focused in class, earned awards, and stayed out of trouble.

Then everything changed.

On August 15, the Taliban took over the entire country. Life became unbearable. Women couldn’t leave the house without a man. Faces had to be covered. Girls couldn’t study with boys, and girls over eleven were banned from school completely. Men were forced to grow beards. Fear wasn’t just around us  it controlled us.

I was excited to start Year 5, but I never did. It wasn’t safe.