Here we have a Q&A, poem and some artwork from some of our Afghan contributors.

Q&A

We asked Kainat:

What is a typical day for you?

What are you curious about when you think of life in other countries?

My name is Kainat.

I am 14 years old.

An ordinary day for me passes in a very tiring and difficult way. The days are not interesting at all.

When I think about other countries and compare them with my own country, I become curious about how other people live… how much freedom they have for studying and education, and how their governments treat them. Most of my thoughts are about this: if I were living outside my country and could continue my education, in the end I would reach the successes I dream of, and also the job that I love.

But I am both hopeful and hopeless, because today has passed, and I am waiting to see how tomorrow will pass. This waiting has been going on for three to four years now, and I am still waiting for that tomorrow when I become an independent girl and feel proud of myself. But for now, other than being patient, I have no choice. Time passes, and we also pass with it.

At night, when I want to sleep, I think about this: maybe one night I will die with the regret that I never saw myself in a high position, or maybe my dreams will turn into nightmares for me. But then I tell myself, Kainat, push negative thoughts away. You are still only 14 years old. Maybe you will wake up one morning and a miracle will happen. Maybe you will be happy.

But every day is like the other days…repetitive, nothing new or interesting, just tiring.

When I see others who are independent, and also see some who are very weak and helpless, and when my mother tells me to come and learn how to cook food, to learn how to wash dishes and do other housework. I am happy to help my mother with housework. But a bad feeling comes to me. I think that I am only learning these things and that’s it.

I do not want to get married at a young age by force. I just want to be myself. My successes are the only things that make me happy: reaching my goals.

I always daydream and imagine that one day I will wake up and say, I must get ready and go to my own office, return home tired, spend a few hours, and then sleep again. When I am with my friends, I tell them and say, These are just dreams and imagination, or maybe one day they will become reality. Some of them say, Have hope, and some are hopeless.

For some people, I give motivation and say that a day will come when your dreams will also turn into reality. Even if nothing comes to them from me except encouragement, at least my words give them hope, and they start thinking about things that motivate them. I advise them, and they become happy, even though I myself am not sure about my own tomorrow.

But I put my trust in God and think blindly about success until my last breath.

Poetry

Next is a poem by Shadmana, one of our online poetry students…

Things I’m Still Waiting For

I haven’t experienced falling in love

I haven’t watched the yellow lights of Rome

I haven’t had flowers waiting at my doorstep just because

I haven’t sat in a jazz club in a silky dress

I haven’t bought a Hermès bag or anything just because I wanted to

I haven’t walked the streets dressed how I wanted

or had a photoshoot that looked exactly like the one in my head

I haven’t watched the sunset outside whenever I wanted

and I never experienced high school the way I always imagined it

but I started teaching at thirteen and maybe that counts as a different kind of story

I haven’t been a princess in a castle with my cats ruling beside me

I haven’t traveled alone outside the country

I’ve survived Covid

I’m surviving life in Afghanistan

and that dreaming is its own kind of freedom

I haven’t published my book of poems

but they live quietly in my notes, waiting to be found

and maybe there’s more out there, waiting for me too

Maybe I haven’t done everything I wanted

but I’m still here

still learning

still letting life surprise me

Shadmana

Painting

Finally, from an anonymous contributor. This abstract painting of a breastfeeding mother symbolises the endless love, sacrifice and perseverance of motherhood.

Please join us again soon for more words and art from Afghan women and girls.