The 24th of August was the third day of my second semester at AUAF. I had started with so many hopes. I was in statistics class on the second floor of the Bayat Building, listening carefully to the lecture, when we heard gunfire close to campus. Growing up in Afghanistan, we think of gunfire as routine. Our professor continued his lecture. Seconds later, an ear-blasting bomb shook the building and shattered the window glass. The campus was under attack.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we had not returned to school.
I read a book that said that successful people have a great social network.
I got to know many of my schoolmates and I made twenty friends in different classes. Each girl had different abilities and talents and we shared books and helped each other with lessons.
Her parents owed the old man a lot of money and could not pay him back, so instead they had to give the man their two daughters.
At first she was the only bride in the village who went to school but once the other brides found out, they wanted to go to school with her.
Her face was dark and wrinkled, her lips were dry, and she looked about 46 years old. She was carrying a child on her back.
Latifa was in the first position at school every year since first grade.
Last week my cousin asked me, “What do you want to have when you get rich?”