The road from southeastern Afghanistan to Kabul is no longer safe. Along the way, Talibs will suddenly appear from nowhere and stop cars. They check all the passengers and ask for their ID cards. They want to know who is traveling. They check to see if anybody in the car works for the government or if anybody has a mobile phone. They check to see if the phone has a camera. If it does, they kill the person. If the phone has a song, they kill the person.
I used to think big. When I was six, I made my mom let me go to school, and I loved it. My father told me: “If you stay at the top of your class until the end of your studies, I will do two things for you. First, I will let you go abroad to continue your education. Secondly, I will buy you a car and let you drive.” With the encouragement of my father, I was a superstar in my classes. He was my first English teacher and he always called me “my scholar daughter.”
I love my job. I know it can help bring changes in women’s living conditions in my province. But there are obstacles.
Recently I received a death threat from Taliban. I was on my way to work when a neighbor called out to me and said, “You must return home because we found a letter from the Taliban threatening you, and you must quit your job right now.”
History is changed by the small actions of ordinary people. —Zahra A.
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