Wednesday 24th of August, 2016. The fourth day of my second semester. My last class finished at 6:20 p.m. I expected to meet a friend, but she did not come so I finished my dinner and went to the mosque to pray. At 7:04 p.m., I had just finished praying when three explosions went off two meters (6.5 feet) from the mosque. The air turned dark, the ceiling fell upon us. It was hard to breathe. Seconds later, gunshots began. I could not believe what seemed clear: the American University of Afghanistan was under attack.
When I finished telling my friend this story we sat there thinking about our country.
Alia has six sisters and brothers and lived in Pakistan until she was three. When the family returned to Afghanistan they lived for a while in Kandahar, where she was disappointed to learn that girls wore burkas and could not leave the house alone. She goes to high school and wants to be a businesswoman.
Our teachers thought that it was the Taliban coming to kill us.