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I am a land full of sorrow, yet patient — weary, yet still hopeful.

I am a land of beauty, but torn apart by war.

‎‎Growing up as a teenager under Taliban restrictions, I learned to be silent long before I learned to speak up for myself.
‎Silence wasn’t just expected of me, it became my way of surviving.

“I believe we are all born feminist. No one can claim that women deserve fewer rights than men. You are either a feminist or you are a misogynist.” These words, whispered by Maral, a 147-year-old former middle high school student in Kabul, capture the quiet defiance that defines today’s underground resistance movement among Afghan women.

Before I could even understand who I was, the world had already decided for me. I wasn’t just a child; I was a refugee. It didn’t matter that I was born here, that I had never known another home.