Sajia Begham

I have taught in many places: in lecture theatres at the University of Kabul, in the main auditorium at the Frankfurt University of Applied Sciences, and in the back yard of my parents’ house. I showed six-year-olds how to do sums, taught 22-year-olds the basics of political science, and convinced staff of the Afghan Prime Minister that education is essential.   

When the Taliban took over Kabul for the first time in 1996, I was in the eighth grade. My parents sent me to an uncle in Mazar-e Sharif. At the time, the region was under the control of the Northern Alliance – a grouping of several warlords. Girls could go to school there. Two years later, the Taliban conquered Mazar as well. I returned to my parents in Kabul.  

A neighbour asked me: “You are so clever, could you teach my children some lessons?” This is when I began to pass on what I had learned – in secret. Eventually there were 60 pupils sitting on the carpets in the courtyard of my parents’ house. From 5 in the morning until 5 in the evening I taught girls and boys. Officially we had one subject on the curriculum: the Koran.   

I was 18 years old and was not ready to give up hope. On the contrary: I wanted to give hope to others. .

So together with like-minded people I set up a youth organisation: the Youth and Children Development Program. We organised educational events and published a magazine. After the victory over the Taliban in 2001, we also campaigned to achieve official recognition of the years of education in underground schools, so pupils would not have to repeat those classes.   

I continued to learn, studying Law and Political Science at the University of Kabul. Alongside my studies, I worked at medica mondiale in Afghanistan as the Advocacy Coordinator, amongst others concerning the serious consequences of child marriage for the girls. In 2014 I became a lecturer at the University of Kabul and in 2016 the Advisor for Women and Youth in the Office of the Prime Minister. In 2019 I started PhD research at the University of Erfurt, Germany.  

The security situation in Afghanistan was deteriorating visibly. Journalists were being attacked, activists murdered. I had a bad gut feeling in May 2021 as I flew from Erfurt to Kabul to visit my mother. I left my two children with my husband in Germany.  

My return flight should have been on July 1, but I postponed it because I was worried about the safety of my mother, my sister-in-law and my aunt. They were all active within international organisations, had campaigned for free elections or worked in safe houses. On August 14, they all had photos made for passport applications. On August 15, the Taliban marched into Kabul. I spent the next days trying to find ways to get out of the country. Our first opportunity was organised by medica mondiale for August 26. At 4 am, my mother, a few former colleagues from Medica Afghanistan and I all set off for the airport.   

We waited in the buses. Shots were being fired. Clouds of tear gas hung in the air. Children were crying.

The whole time I was on the phone to the pilot of a plane from Greece, who should have flown us out. But we simply could not get into the airport. Around midday we tried to make contact to the German soldiers. One colleague and I left the bus, but as we tried to draw attention to ourselves we crossed a line and US soldiers fired into the ground in front of our feet. Later the same afternoon, a suicide attacker blew himself up nearby. So we gave up and drove back to the hotel. The plane took off without us.  

Shortly afterwards, the airport was closed. It was not until October when the first international airlines resumed flights and I could use my German visa to return to my children. My mother was able to follow me in March 2022. One of my sisters, however, still lives in Afghanistan.    

I have lost a lot: my work, my home, my social status. The situation is not easy. But I have experienced what it means to receive humanity and I have been humane towards others. That gives me the strength to continue.  

In the meantime, I have revised the topic of my PhD dissertation: now I am researching the issue of borders. Although international borders are considered, it also deals with non-physical borders: missing passports, expired visas, foreign languages. It looks at social codes and deep-seated prejudice. I have experienced many of these borders myself – and crossed through them.