An Afghan's Woman's Diary

The First and Last Part

     In the heart of Afghanistan nestled deep near the Hindu Kush Mountains, there lay a small village named Gulzar. Though this used to be a thriving village, crumbling houses and dust-choked streets lay silently. Amoung these grief stricken sights lived a young woman named Khadija Ahmadzai. She was sixteen with briht, unbroken eyes that held the spirit of wisdom that was far beyond her years.
     Under the oppressive rule of the Taliban, Khadija's days were filled with monotony ad fear. Her mothers life and her own life was a constant struggle between obedience and defiance. But with a spirit refusing to be broken, she sat in her dim candle-lit room staring at the crisp new paper lying in front of her in her new diary. Picking up her calligraphy pen with delicate hands, she presses it to the paper. As the ink slowly spreads over the crisp, white sheet, staining it, she pours all her weighted thoughts on the page.

Entry 1:

Dear Diary,
     Another dawn surfaces from the fear-layden Gulzar. Every day I wake to my mother's weary sighs and the sounds of whipe lashing over flesh. Life in Gulzar has become a living hell for all women residing here. I have forever longed for freedom, if only just a little bit to run free without the oppressive rule of the Taliban watching my every move. But here in Gulzar we are forbidden from nearly everything. From walking alone outside without a man, to showing just a centimeter of skin. My mother scolds me for being supposedly ungrateful, but how can I be grateful when blood splatters the dust ridden streets on a daily basis. I am scared, truly afraid for my future, for the futures of all Afghan girls whose voices have been silenced by fear. Yet even in the midst of this danger and oppression, the Taliban will never break my spirit for my spirit lies in my mind and heart. So as long as there is ink in my pen and breath in my lungs, I will not be silenced.
    
     With an unbroken spirit,
          Khadija

Entry 2:

Dear Diary,
     Today, I saw a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds Gulzar. While walking down the narrow streets to retrieve water, I noticed a group of women, ages spanning from seventeen to maybe forty-seven, huddled close together. Though their faces were veiled by their burqas their eyes still blamed with defiance . I overheard them speaking of resistance and fighting for their deserved rights. My heart swelled with hope at the thought of freedom. Among these rebels stood my mother. Looking closer, I saw her eyes alight with a fire I had never seen before. This sight gave me a feeling of relief, that I was not alone in this fight.
    
     With renewed hope,
          Khadija

Entry 3:

Dear Diary,
     Today tragedy struck Gulzar. Upon somehow hearing the news of rebels, the Taliban struck down on our town like a bolt of lightning. I woke up to the sound of my mother's screams as she was ripped away from my arms. Covering my eyes from the horrible sight I heard the crack of the whip coming down ten times n broken flesh. When I opened my eyes, I saw my mother being dragged out of our house with welts forming all over. As I screamed for her to come back, a man came up to me and pushed me to my knees. As I fell to the ground sobbing, he growled these words into my ear, "You better know your place in this world." I can still hear the echo of her screams and the scratchy voice of the man. Yet even as tears fill my eyes and stain these pages, I will not be broken. My mother's sacrifice will not be in vain. I will continue fighting.
    
     With a heavy heart,
          Khadija

Entry 4:

Dear Diary,
     Today a miracle has released itself upon Gulzar. Word has spread around the village that the Taliban's grip on Afghanistan is loosening. I can already see the effects of freedom taking place. The faces of women are no longer covered by fear. Instead, they are replaced with hope. I can scarcely believe that my future may not be fraught with worry and fear, but with freedom, hope, and knowledge. I write these words with purpose coursing through my veins.
    
     With a light in my eyes,
          Khadija

Entry 5:

Dear Diary,
     It's over. It's finally over. The Taliban's rule has come to an end. Today marks the beginning of a new start for Afghanistan. Women and girls who once hid in the shadows with their faces veiled now walk the streets with their heads held high, their voices resonating in the clear air. Schools that were once broken and abandoned are now the earth that keeps Afghanistan on its feet. As I relish in this new dawn, I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. For though our journey was fraight with danger and distress, we have emerged greater, stronger, and more resilient than before. As I close this chapter of my life and tuck you away in the secret corner of my room, I will always remember our story.
    
      With love and gratitude,
          Khadija