Maryam
(FRANCE)
“Cry, scream, but be strong. Do not let the names of Afghan women remain hidden under a veil. Fight, stand together, and move together because Afghan women can.”
مریم
Maryam was born in 1997 in Sarpol province of Afghanistan. She graduated from high school in Jawzjan province and entered the University of Jawzjan Faculty of Chemical Technology Engineering. As a student at the university, she began working with Ghazal radio and the local television station in the province. She later joined Ashraq Writers and Poets Association in 2015 and in 2019, and she became a member of the Writers Untold group by writing a story that ranked among the ten bests in the country. In addition to her work with the local radio and television outlets, she became part of a theater group and participated in various plays and activities with the Asr Tanvir art group in 2020. She evacuated to France in August 2021 and continues her media and theater work.
Q1: What is a single memory or story you remember from Afghanistan?
I will never forget the day, fifteen years ago, that my father came home without legs, holding himself up on two crutches. My father was an ordinary citizen caught in a suicide attack. He had several operations, but they did not work. I was eight years old and I told myself I needed to accept that my hero, my father, would have to live his entire life in this condition.
But my question was always: What was the role of my innocent father in this war? Why did this happen to him? My father was an ordinary worker. Now he would have to endure pain until the end of his life, and my mother would have to take care of him like a child until the end of her life.
That’s when I realized that life can be very cruel. A family can lose everything in a moment. At this juncture, I saw my father’s helplessness and my mother’s struggle.
Q2: Tell us the exact moment you decided to leave Afghanistan.
Jawzjan fought against the Taliban for three months without any resources. Jawzjan was the gate of several provinces, and if it fell, the war would go to other provinces. A week before the fall of Jawzjan, we went to Mazar. Our province was bombarded three times a day and no one was safe. I was in Mazar on the seventh day when the matter of traveling to France became more serious. I could not decide. I consulted with my fiancé.
Then Jawzjan fell. I returned to Jawzjan wearing a Chadari [a type of burqa the Taliban require women to wear]. The most terrifying stories for me were those about the Taliban raping women. I did not understand what was going to happen. I lacked detailed knowledge of the Taliban.
It was hard for me to let go. But the only reason I am here is the fear of death. Mazar and Jawzjan were no longer safe and only Kabul remained. As the eldest child of the family, which comes with responsibilities, I did not know what to do.
I consulted with my father. He left the decision up to me. It was difficult. My family and my fiancé were not with me, and I thought I was being selfish, leaving everyone alone to go to Kabul. I arrived in Kabul on August 15 at seven in the morning. I thought it was a normal day. I had gone to the passport office and it was 10:45 a.m. when I heard the news of the fall of Kabul from a driver.
People had a silent look that was full of screams. The worst scene I saw was the soldier in the army car, holding his hand in his teeth and crying. I saw the fall of Kabul in his tears. He had fought and fought, but he had not been able to save Kabul, and he realized that we had been pushed back twenty years, and the first question that came to my mind at that moment was: What will happen to women?
I may never forgive myself for August 22, when I was happy to get through “Abbey gate.” Now I am ashamed of that happiness. I left my friends, family, Jawzjan, Kabul, and my country.
Q3: What is something important that you wanted to bring with you? Or what is something you wanted to bring but could not?
I was born into a family with elementary literacy, a family in which no one appreciated literacy. When my stories were published and received attention, no one understood. I understood that every else was entirely focused on how to earn money for the family.
I built a small library in Jawzjan. Although I had a hard time finding these books, when I left the country, I brought only a few volumes of poetry dedicated to “Maryam the poet and the junior writer.” I also came with two hands of clothes.
I liked my books. I liked the small library. Because books are a weapon against ignorance. I told my family, “You don’t have to read them, but these books should remain here for future generations, for Elnaz, for Rihana.” Maybe later they will appreciate that there was someone who read books. Someone who wanted to start a small revolution in her home.
Everyone in the airport was thinking about their clothes, but I was thinking about my books. The books I owned were familiar to me and I loved them.
Maryam giving a speech at an event in Afghanistan.
Q4: If you could send a message that will be heard in thirty years, what would it be?
Cry, scream, but be strong. Do not let the names of Afghan girls remain hidden under a veil. I want every Afghan girl to be a Maryam who writes with her pen, sheds tears in her loneliness, reads the news, and thinks that maybe she will work in Kabul in the future. Afghan women are very strong, they just need to be given a chance. I don't know how to define what it means to be “be strong,” but be strong. Fight, stand together, and move together, because Afghan women can.
Maryam after her arrival in France.
“When I remember my mom, I realize I can’t give up. I must be strong and go forward to pursue my dreams.”