The way I want you to remember my Afghan students

Many years ago, I taught in Kabul, Afghanistan. A Danish colleague, whose grant-making organisation worked in the region, introduced me to one of the last co-educational informal schools left in the outskirts of the city of Kabul. The Non-for profit organization provided free space for young Afghan boys and girls to gain knowledge through informal learning and social development activities.

I was in my early twenties and the Youth leader and Public Relations manager of the organization, Shahira Mohseni, was not a day more than 21 herself. Together, we envisioned a program that could harvest the wisdom of naive, young and full-of-life students of the school. After much thought and deliberation, we titled the project after an Afghan prayer phrase, ‘Zenda Bosheyn’. It means ‘A long life to you’. Perhaps, we hoped it would live up to its name and the prayer magic would work. And it did for a while.

For many months, the children participated in activities that would help them imagine, express, create art, entertain themselves and be informed. I received life lessons from children as young as 7, laced with love and thoughtfulness. Shahira Mohseni translated for the ones who only spoke Pashto or Dari. Our conversations circled around our collective history, the Indian films that lit Afghan television screens and the Hindi words that were borrowed from their language. Each day brought with itself the joy of being together and also, the fear of parting. The school had already received 17 warnings from the Taliban illustrating the activities as ‘unlawful.’

Late December that year, came the dreaded news that a bomb had exploded so close to the school premises that the classrooms shook for hours. It was too unsafe to carry on. The dream had to be traded for a sense of security, funerals had to be averted as the cost of education and hope had to be buried deep beneath grief. The students who scored the highest on Monday morning were begging for a refugee status by Thursday night. Young girls who aspired to be a musicians would only sing for her soon to be husband, that too if he was liberal enough. Shahira Mohseni had to escape as well. Fortunately she did. But luggaging along the burden of the students we shared laughs and mapped a future with.

As the news of Afghanistan spilled over social media yesterday, I checked in with her. She said, “I don’t know what to say, I am deeply sad and can’t stop my tears.” It broke my heart. How many tears does a Shahira has to shed for the same people, the same issue, the same land year after year? How many Shahira’s would it take before every young Afghan can breathe free? Before humanity doesn’t have to defend itself anywhere in the world.

Another Afghan Peace Activist, colleague and educator, Dr. Sakena Yacoobi, last night in an email wrote, “My schools still stand, as of now, we have been instructed that we can continue as long as we separate boys and girls….our universities have already shut their doors to women and told them to go home. Burqa sales have tripled, as have the prices to purchase them. Women who lived through the Taliban before, go now to purchase these garments, while the daughters raised under the American occupation throw them in the faces of their mothers, refusing to wear them.”

For all you know, the students I taught with Shahira, would have grown up to be the adults you see in distress at the Kabul airport tarmac, latching on, running alongside military jets and the ones falling like leaves from them. When the school was shut down, Shahira told me the students hoped that their life lessons will travel further than they ever could or will. That their learnings will guide their path and the world around. To honour that wish, I am sharing with you a handful of life lessons of our braves students because this is the way I would like for us to remember them: Hopeful of a life as normal as the wisdom from it.

"Life keeps surprising us with good and also the bad things and we should be ready to face them. That is a lesson that I have learnt from life and I know that happiness makes us happy and problems makes us strong. Life flows like a river filled with happiness and sorrow.” Mohammad Fawad Haji, 17

"My brother was behaving very bad with everyone even with my parents and no one liked to talk with him or having any kind of relationship with him. And then, I learned from life that we should be very polite and behave in a good way with people; if we want to connect with them and improve our relationships. Keep a good behaviour with everyone.” Haseena Ameri, 11

"I've learnt from life that humans are constantly changing. Every day we face a new challenge and to have a good life we should never lose hope or patience. Because that is how we will receive it." Samim Hakemy, 18

"I learned that being a boy or a girl is not important in becoming successful in life. I am smaller than my brother, he is very lazy and doesn't focus on his lessons but I am always trying my best to be the best student in school. My family also supports me and I want to become a good Doctor in future. Effort will make you successful enough to get to any goal that you wish in life.” Rabia Baqeri, 13

Note: Story has been published with due permission and approval from my wonderful friend and collaborator Shahira Mohseni.