I was born into a liberal family in Kabul province of Afghanistan. When I was three years old, civil war broke out, and we left all our belongings and immigrated north to Mazar-e-Sharif. Shortly afterwards, our house in Kabul burned and we lost everything. We lived in Mazar-e-Sharif peacefully for seven years and had a pretty good life. Our good days ended in 1998 when the government collapsed and the Taliban took over Mazar-e-Sharif.
My Pen
My first Namaz
The Winter of My Country
Work Project in Farah
Nik Mohammed, father of eight, spent three months without work, with no way to pay for food, warm clothes for his family, wood to heat their home. In desperation, he took his children from school and sent them to the bazaar to find odd jobs.
But a new cash-for-work program funded by USAID/ Central Asia Development Group with close collaboration with the Farah municipality has brought 4,000 temporary jobs…
The Garden of My Homeland (Clothed in Blood and Fear)
I Thought It Was a Dream But When I Woke, I Couldn’t Walk
Remembering Fifteen
Take the Pen: Write a New Future
The Tradition of Baad

“I was usually beaten with cables and sticks. I got pregnant twice but lost my babies because of severe living conditions. In three years, I didn’t leave my in-law’s house even once; I was always locked in a small house,” says Mahnaz.
Mahnaz, 22, is my friend. I met her through my job. She was working in one of the ministries in Kabul.


