by AWWP | November 12, 2009 | Freshta
Afghans suffers pain, trial, labor, grief, sorrow, tragedy. / Now the president needs to serve them / Serve for people, serve those who need / Serve for those who have lost their families, loved ones who live only in memory.
by AWWP | October 6, 2009 | Freshta
Mahmood sat on the dusty ground along with four young children, waiting outside next to the window where the baker sells the bread. The older children were discussing the kinds of clothes they would wear for Eid. One said: “I bought white pants with a red T-shirt.” Another one said, “My mom sewed me an Afghani white shirt and shalwar clothes along with a hat and half-sleeve coat.”
by AWWP | August 11, 2009 | Freshta
Baryalai leaned against the wall of the university next to the bus station. He held a bucket and a small piece of cotton he hoped to use to wash one of the approaching cars. Suddenly two boys rushed past him towards a car. Baryalai followed.
“Can I wash the car?” asked all the boys.
by AWWP | July 24, 2009 | Freshta
I have wishes in my heart and mind / to be a doctor in this world
Serve my people / my compatriots / save them from all dangers
My dream was discarded with time / Time showed me this was not my aim in life
Time changed my goals /Which I had in my life course
It changed my life way / As I was thinking every day
by AWWP | July 10, 2009 | Freshta, Latest Essays
It was the fourth year of the Taliban government, and sometimes when I was alone on the way to my school, I wore a burqa because I was tall for my age. I was studying school subjects in a secret school that was far away from our house (one hour walking). I and my young sister, who is in college in the US, would both cover our books in cotton, the same way we cover our Holy Quran so that the Taliban wouldn’t know that we were studying.
by AWWP | June 8, 2009 | Freshta
When I was child I wished to be a doctor like my uncle, who wears a white shirt and everyday checks on lots of ill people. But one day, all of my wishes were destroyed. It was the day the Taliban came to our country, Afghanistan.
I was in school, in 8th grade. We were playing sports in the yard, where there were trees and no grass and no water. We