When I left school that day in Herat in 1995, I had no way of knowing I wouldn’t be allowed to go back for five years. The next night, a scary noise woke me—some kind of racket—and then I heard my parents talking to each other in a nervous tone. We knew the Taliban had taken control of some cities, but we did not expect the Taliban to reach our city so quickly.
Our house was next to the highway and my parents worried that if fighting started our house would be used as a stronghold. My father told my older sisters to pack some clothes. He would walk them to my aunt’s house in the middle of the city, in a safer area—out of sight.
My father told me I would stay behind because I was too young to walk that far. But I told him I wanted to go too. I took only my school bag. We left home in the early hours of the morning when it was still dark. We walked the narrow alleys of Herat city. As we got closer to my aunt’s house, it started to grow lighter. We heard a car approaching. We stopped next to the wall. It was a truck full of the Taliban. I was very scared and my tired legs were shaking. I worried that they would kidnap us or maybe put us in jail—thinking that we were thieves walking in the dark. They wore white turbans and long black costumes. They had long beards and hair. About fifteen or twenty Taliban stood in the back of the truck. They looked like they hadn’t taken a bath in a while. They looked at us curiously and we looked at them. They seemed new to the city. Then they drove away without bothering us and I breathed a sigh of relief.
People started to appear on the streets and bakers were opening their shops. Some men who were returning from the public bathrooms asked my father what he was doing walking with his family so early in the morning. They wanted to know if something was wrong with the city. My father didn’t have any answers. After four hours of walking, we arrived at my aunt’s home just as the mullahs were saying the azan, calling people to prayer. We were very tired and our feet were sore. We were worried about my mother, older brother, and two of my younger siblings who were still at home.
My aunt made us breakfast. After, my father borrowed my cousin’s bike to go check on the city. My sisters and I went to take a nap. Around noon my father came back with my brothers; their faces were pale and I could see fear in their eyes. They told us about the soldiers’ bodies hanging in front of Herat’s stadium and provincial buildings. I was very scared. I wanted to know how my mother and my friends were, but there were no phones at that time.
On the second day of their rule in Herat, the Taliban closed all the schools, universities, and everywhere women could go. When we turned on the radio, they were only talking about enforcing the Sharia laws and warning that if people didn’t obey they would be punished.
The Taliban spoke Pashto, which was a problem for the majority of people in my hometown who could only speak Dari. They ordered the men to wear turbans and let their beards grow. Women and girls were to cover themselves head to toe and not allowed to leave their homes. If they had to, a male family member was to escort them. They closed the TV stations and banned music. At first we thought the school closings would be temporary. After a year, people started to lose hope. Many people left Herat and went to the neighboring countries. We become very isolated because my father didn’t want to leave. Life was very tough during the Taliban regime. We spent every day in fear. People who didn’t accept their rules were hanged. I watched as they beat my father, brother, and brother-in-law with whips because they took us to see the Herat River. I could do nothing but shake in fear as my brother’s back was bloodied. Another time they jailed my brother for a week for the crime of listening to music. They beat my mother for leaving home without my father. I still have nightmares when I think about those dark days.
I also remember the day when the Taliban left Herat.
We again walked to our aunt’s home. This time I was a teenager and I knew what was going on. The Taliban shot many people on their way out of Herat. Our city did not have a ruler until the next day when Ismail Khan entered the city with his group from Iran and he was welcomed by the people. Even then, I felt so terrible and strange. I thought no one could protect me from anything. I felt very empty, like a body without a soul. My heart, my stomach, and my head hurt. It took me a few years to overcome that feeling and the nightmares. Today’s situation in Afghanistan is bringing back all those terrible feelings.
It breaks my heart to see that children of my country are still suffering. We should not let history repeat. When the Taliban first came to Afghanistan, people didn’t know who they were. People were even hopeful that the new group might bring peace and security. But now we know how cruel the Taliban are and we don’t want them back. We want the world to hear us. We are tired of war and we want peace, stability, jobs, food, and education. We do not want to go back to those dark years. The international community and the Afghan government must stay with the Afghan people. We must not let the civilians pay the price of war.
By Marzia
Photo by Balazs Gardi
Marzia — You have written a strong, intelligent essay about your personal experience that points to the horrors Afghans are enduring with the return of extremists to your country. It must be particularly terrifying for people like you and your family who have been through this kind of brutal treatment before. I echo your hope that the international community understands and listens and supports Afghan civilians who just want to live in peace. May it happen soon. Love and best wishes, Nancy
You are so generous with us, Marzia, to share these memories. I read, and I feel I am there with you. I am sorry that you, and other children, and so many adults, have had to feel this terror. Thank you, again, for sharing your stories with us. You teach us and grow our understanding. Stacy
Marzia, your bravery and determination were evident from a very young age. Thank you for making your story known. It would never have occurred to me as a child that the secure life I knew, and the opportunities and freedom that I had could stop abruptly. I find your courage and strength amazing. Suzanne
Dear Marzia,
Your ability to find strength withing times that are so dark amazes me. When your life was flipped upside down, instead of hiding you showed bravery and courage. Your experience was over the course of many years, which would be extremely frightening, as you never knew what could happen next. I cannot fathom the difficulty. You were able to stay strong even as the people around you were being hurt. For that, I strongly commend you. I believe that your story gives hope to so many others that are still struggling with oppression. I thank you for sharing your story with the world.
Dear Marzia, although I never lived is a country with continuous warfare going on, but I know it must be so hard for you to experiencing all that tramas as a teenager. In the really last paragraph, you mentioned that “It breaks my heart to see that children of my country are still suffering.” Not only experiencing this in childhood, but also seeing the continuous of these aspect makes you and other Afghanistan people more hopeless; seeing the country you loves suffering in a vicious cycle and get harmed by people and their violence as having nothing to do to help. I also understand that my comments will brings no change, but I still wish you to feel better and keep looking forwards, because your dark days and even Afghanistan’s dark days will all finally passed.
Marzia-
I want to start by saying how incredibly brave you are. You went through so many hardships in your childhood, and I can’t imagine how much stronger you are right now. I am currently 15 years old, and I can’t believe how hard it must be to have to be in constant fear of the people around you. It must be hard to look back at your past and think about how scary your childhood was. I hope that you are doing better right now. Just know that you are strong and can achieve much more than what society restricts. By reading your writing, I already know that you are a strong and intelligent person. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
-Jamie
Marzia-
I want to start by saying how incredibly brave you are. You went through so many hardships in your childhood, and I can’t imagine how much stronger you are right now. I am currently 15 years old, and I can’t believe how hard it must be to have to be in constant fear of the people around you. It must be hard to look back at your past and think about how scary your childhood was. I hope that you are doing better right now. Just know that you are strong and can achieve much more than what society restricts. By reading your writing, I already know that you are a strong and intelligent person. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
-Jamie
Your courage and persistence to keep up with your sisters even when the road was long to your aunt’s house is stunning. I cannot imagine how hard it was to realize that you life was going to change. You knew that you had to take action to survive. Your parents made a risky decision to move you to your aunt’s house, but they took that risk to protect you and your family as much as possible. I admire that you chose to be brave and strong to go against your father’s wishes and be ready to face anything with a sense of determination, despite the underlying fear. It must have been terrible to see your family punished for breaking simple yet strict rules such as listening to music. I adore the empathy that you give towards the children in their current fearful situation. I hope for a better future for them as well. I am happy that you have found a way to share your story through this site, to show the cruelty of the Taliban, as well as to bring awareness to the children who are suffering now, especially since you once were also a victim to this type of harsh conditions of hiding. I wish for you to keep looking forward, as dark times will eventually fade, just like how your nightmares have slowly faded away overtime. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
Marzia-
I want to thank you so much for writing about your experiences. I could not even begin to fathom the kind of terror and desperation you would’ve felt in such a war-torn situation, and for that I genuinely commend you. You wrote simply and directly enough for every reader to fully grasp the severity of your story, yet it is this rawness in your writing that allows readers to truly empathize with you and feel the same desperate emotions. To hear about such atrocities on the news is one thing, and to read about them firsthand from a girl who directly underwent them is another. It requires no analysis, no in-depth search for meaning — your writing simply states the reality of this world as is. I truly hope along with you that civilians cease to pay the price of war and that children no longer suffer in your country. Your words are such profound inspiration for myself and many others to stand strong and voice our grievances, fighting for the things we believe in. No matter how seemingly small the action may be, I promise it will have an impact on someone else.
Thank you so much,
Shyama Bharath
Marzia- You are such a brave and courageous woman. Thank you so much for sharing your story which is truly unlike any other. When you started off with,” When I left school that day in Herat in 1995, I had no way of knowing I wouldn’t be allowed to go back for five years,” it was shocking to hear that every aspect of security for you had disappeared. In addition, the choice you made to trek on the journey alongside your sisters, rather than staying and waiting, is unbelievable and bold in itself. Your father was trying to shelter you from the hardships as they began, however, you denied yourself any pity and instead pushed forward. I’m very sorry that you and your family had to suffer the wrath of the Taliban, constantly living in fear and unable to live your life as a regular teenager. The life you had was literally flipped in an instant. Abuse and treatment that you had to witness your mother, father, and brothers go through made things even more personal and upfront during that time, something no one will ever get rid of. Words can not truly describe how it must have felt, and your continuing hurt as children are still experiences situations like the one you were in. It’s very straightforward in terms of explaining the sequence of events, leaving no room for interpretation of the thoughts of fear constantly intruding upon your mind. You do not shut out the society that has beaten you down but rather continue to show empathy to the other victims like the children still suffering from the Taliban. You did not give up hope, and I am forever grateful that you are here and have written this article. I hope those children are able to do the same.
Thank you for sharing your story with us Marzia. Your personal experience of when the Taliban took control of your hometown is an inspiring story. The willpower and determination of your family to find the bright side of life even during the dark days of Taliban rule is admirable. I hope your story, and the stories of your people reach a global audience. I hope that peace can be restored in Afghanistan and that Afghan children can go to school and have an education. I am grateful that I am able to read your story, and thank you for sharing it.
Marzia,
It is astonishing to hear what life was like in Herat under Taliban rule. I couldn’t believe how cruel the punishments were and how restrictive the rules made by the Taliban were in daily life. I could never imagine that playing music could be considered a severe crime. I admire your bravery to make the choice to walk for hours to your aunt’s house in the dark. not many people would be brave enough to make that hard choice. I couldn’t imagine being forced to watch my family get whipped. Thank you for sharing your first hand perspective of the challenges you and your family faced under Taliban rule.
Marzia shared with us her story of how she had survived the dark days of her life under Taliban rule. Things she had described, her family, father and brother being beaten and put in jail, were truly terrifying. These are memories that can scar someone deeply and are extremely hard to overcome. Marzia said of how it took her years to have overcome that, to which I’m proud of her and completely understand how it is. My country was also overruled by illegitimate, murderous generals. Our country’s own military has turned, and beaten, jailed, murdered, and done unspeakable things to innocent civilians who had done absolutely nothing wrong. Even though I firsthand haven’t experienced these tragic events and have now escaped, it still had scared me to my core. Like Marzia, I had been stopped by our own soldiers in huge military trucks while in our car and questioned, while being pointed a gun into our faces. These become fears and makes us feel strange in ways that will always be embedded deep within our minds.
Dear Marzia,
Thank you for sharing the story of your time in a war-torn country, and how everyone in the country is affected, not just the people fighting the wars or the political parties rivaling each other. Your courage and resilience to continue on the path to your aunt’s house, even though her house was far away, are inspiring. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to realize your life is completely changing in the blink of an eye. Your determination, despite your fears, also inspires one to challenge authorities, in your case, your father, in order to achieve their goals and pursue their passions. I also wish for the world to show compassion and understand the struggles of the people in Afghanistan, and lend a helping hand to those in need. The world needs more kindness, and it starts with helping the ones who need help.