That winter was cold and icy. Your room was dark even with the small lantern, but you and grandfather brightened the surroundings with your kindness, stories, and the prayers.

Some comments praised the singer for her beauty or expressed their love for her, but many expressed hatred.

We had been living outside of Herat in the house my father built for only a few months when the Taliban took control.

I felt a rebellious energy inside me. I pulled back my hand with strength. I stood, without any thought and fear, and I cried, “I want to get off.”