For as long as I can remember, my father told everyone: “My daughter is going to be a doctor”. My family didn’t have much money and there were times we couldn’t even afford school supplies, but my parents always made sure I went to school. I studied hard, came top of the class and my confidence grew. I began to believe I really could become a doctor. It was my dream.
Then the Taliban took control of Afghanistan in 2021. I’ll never forget the moment they closed the doors to our school – I stood there, frozen. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel anything. Eventually, I walked back home in tears, hugged my mother, and cried with all my heart.
Since I couldn’t go to school, my sister, who is a year older than me, and I tried to enrol in a midwifery course. I was so desperate to learn that I lied about my age in order to sign up. For two weeks, we studied, full of hope and excitement. We even bought white dresses, dreaming of our future as healthcare workers. But when they found out we hadn’t finished school, we were forced to leave.
That rejection broke me. I became depressed, lost my appetite, and felt like the weight of all my struggles was too much to bear. I am still receiving medical treatment, and I take medicine to help me cope with anxiety.
Life wasn’t perfect before the Taliban took over, but at least I had the freedom to go to school and visit parks without being questioned. I miss the freedom I once had and the memories I made with my friends. Many of them have left Afghanistan but I still see some of them.
We often talk about school, like the time I was supposed to recite a poem in front of the whole class. I practiced all night, memorising every word, but when I stood on the stage and saw all the eyes on me, I forgot everything! My friends and I still laugh about that day. These good moments help me to stay strong.
Now, I secretly study English at the home of one of my teachers. I help my neighbours’ daughters with their lessons, and I read medical books during the day. I’ve joined online medical guidance groups and try to learn as best as I can under these circumstances.
I want to join Women for Women International’s adolescent girls programme as a way to meet other girls my age and be able to learn a vocational skill to build enough resources for me to get one step closer to my dream of becoming a doctor. I dare to dream of building a hospital one day where poor people, especially women in remote areas, can receive the care they need. I cannot give up now.
I want to become a doctor, not just for myself but for my Afghan sisters.
Name changed for security reasons. In partnership with Women for Women International.