Fleeing Afghanistan, Living As a Refugee:
Safe, But Without Joy.

“Asma Setayesh” (not her real name) is an Afghan who lived in Kabul until November 2021, when she was able to flee the country with some of her family members. In January 2022, her essay about fleeing Afghanistan and why she did so was published here on this web site: she wrote about what life was like under the Taliban both the first time when they took over Afghanistan and then when they retook the country in August 2021, when the USA abandoned the country. 

She has chosen to remain anonymous because her family that remains in Afghanistan is endangered by their association with her, and because she does not want her family members where she lives now to be targeted in any way.

Her essay below has been edited for clarity and grammar. She has reviewed all edits.

Safe, But Without Joy

As I wrote in my earlier essay, when I reached Australia, my young nieces were so happy. And I was so relieved. We were free. My nieces could feel the sun on their faces. They could go to school. They were not hidden away. My mother was strugging immediately though here, so heartbroken to leave most of her family and all that she had ever known back in Kabul. We had nothing but each other, but I was energized to start over, to have a fresh start with new opportunities. But there was still so much sadness: I will never really be free until my sister, my brothers and their families are with me, and in many ways, I will never be free until my country is free from the Taliban terrorists. 

It's been almost two years since I fled Afghanistan with my mother and my nieces. I am so grateful to be safe from the horrors of the Taliban and to protect my nieces from such horrors. I would like to be able to celebrate, even a little, that I was able to flee and to take some family members with me and escape the misery and suffering we now read about every day that the Taliban is causing in Afghanistan, particularly for women. I would like to enjoy this place and time that I know is so, so much better than life in Afghanistan now. But I cannot, for several reasons:

A big reason for my sadness is that I had to leave my sister behind. She is educated, she worked for the Afghan government, and she is unmarried. She is in grave danger because of these circumstances. But that danger, and our relationship, was not considered great enough at the time to qualify her to flee with me by the country where I live now. I also had to leave two beloved brothers behind, and a nephew I love. I worry about them every day. They regularly endure hardships and struggle to survive in Afghanistan, and I cannot help them. I cannot even tell you much more about them, because if I did, I would put them in further danger.

We all thought that when I came here, I would bring them here within six months. We did not realize that fleeing would get so much harder rather than easier. We did not realize that countries like the USA and Australia and Germany would make it even more difficult to immigrate, that they woud keep changing the rules of who they let in, that they would not fully staff their government agencies meant to process asyum applications. It has been brutal to learn this, and to realize that six months may turn into six years - or never - for our family to be together again.

Here, in this country, my nieces, all under 18, are protected from the realities of the Taliban. But because they do not see it first hand, they don't really understand how evil the Taliban is. They have not seen for themselves what Afghanistan is like now, the everyday misery of so many - the news stories are just stories. They experienced the restrictions of the Taliban only for several weeks, and it's hard now, almost two years later, for them to remember that brief period of terror. For one of my young nieces in particular, she thinks life is all still the same in Afghanistan, like it was before the Taliban, and it's back there waiting for her and I took her away from it. I know that, at times, she sees me as the person who took her and her sister away from so much that they loved. My nieces miss their family and friends in Afghanistan so, so much. They do not fully understand that the life they loved at home does not exist anymore in Afghanistan. Their innocence of the miseries of their country now was part of my goal in fleeing, but the cost is that they, to varying degrees, lack an understanding of what their country has become and all of the gifts they have now by living where we do now.

My mother mourns every day the family and culture left behind. There are times she is even irrational in her thinking about why we left and why I was not able to bring more family and I cannot reason with her. In Kabul, she loved having her family all around her, she loved helping others and she loved caring for street animals. She loved all the customs of the country - our holidays, our foods, our celebrations. She loved her home. She lived under the first Taliban regime as well, but had a loving, caring husband - my father - with her to help her and all of us get through it. He passed away many years ago, during the time of freedom, and my mother still suffers that loss. Now, she is separated from so much of her family and the society she loves, she cannot even visit his grave, and it hurts her mind, her spirit and even her body. Like my nieces, she mourns the separation but does not understand that the life she misses in Afghanistan is not possible anymore, does not exist anymore, not under the Taliban. She also has a growing list of serious physical health issues, and I think this affects her mind as well.

In addition, I am the head of a family now. I went from not being a parent, from being a woman focused on my career and studies, to being in the role of head of family for four children, including two teenagers, and the caregiver for an elderly and increasingly feeble parent. As head of a family, I have had to learn what paperwork to fill out so my nieces can go to school and so that my family could obtain housing and food assistance. My mother is very ill and someone needs to be with her 24 hours a day - I cannot leave her alone for even a couple of hours. I have to be her translator for every medical encounter. I have to support my nieces' as they grow up, help them to have a moral compass, encourage them to read appropriate materials and do well in school and avoid bad people and bad influences. All of the work I need to do to support my mother and my nieces means I cannot work, I cannot have a job that pays money. I have had a career for all of my adult life, and I confess that I deeply miss working. My work as my identity. It is affecting me psychologically to not do what I love so much. Also, because I cannot work, I cannot improve my family's economic situation. I don't want to rely on the government's support alone and I want to work, earn money and help my family. Being a responsible, full-time care giver, navigating school activities and medical appointments and endless paperwork, has made me so busy, so overwhelmed, that I have forgetten at times that I am a human and I need time for myself, that I need to do something, at least sometimes, that will bring me joy.

There is also a lot of misunderstanding by my family back in Afghanistan. They want to know why I have not been able to get them out of the country and for all of us to be reunited. As I wrote earlier, we thought we would be apart only six months. They hear and read so many rumors and write me about them, asking why I haven't filled out this or that magical form or contacted this or that organization that they believe could get them out. I am forever reviewing stories of people getting out of Afghanistan, looking for a way that I could do the same for my family. But so often, the circumstances are so special, the amount of money paid so great, it is all beyond anything I could ever manage - or the story they have heard is a myth.

Some family members back in Kabul also think that life is perfect here in this country, that everyone has a car, that everyone has a nice house, that there are no problems at all here, that we all have lots of opportunities to shop and enjoy life. They do not understand that my days are filled with reading and filling out and submitting paperwork, with getting my mother to medical appointments, with helping my nieces with homework, with meeting with teachers, with shopping for food and other necessities, with preparing meals, with managing the household and with trying to explain to my family here and there, over and over, why I cannot get everyone out.

I cry so much. I am so tired of crying. I do not go to movies. I do not go to museums. I am not a part of any women's groups or social groups here. I have not been able to join the Rotary Club. I cannot be away from home long at all. I am safe, and I am grateful for that safety, and I am most grateful for the life my nieces have, but my life lacks joy. I so long for joy. I have no identity. I have no friends here. I also long for guidance on how to help my nieces understand the choices my family made on their behalf, how to help my family back in Afghanistan understand why I have not been able to get them out, and how to help my mother understand that we really are all better off to be here in this country.

I do not want to return to Afghanistan. I would not survive. If the Taliban did not track me down and imprison me for the work I did with various foreign governments and my work regarding women's rights, then I believe living there would still be my demise, that my mind and body would have broken eventually as I witnessed all of the horrors and have so many restrictions on my life. But all is not fine here, even in this beautiful country where I am, and I must admit it and I want others to undersatnd. I have exchanged one struggle for another. I know that this is the better life than staying in Afghanistan, but it is a life that lacks joy, and I am struggling in a way that makes me wonder if I will ever be happy again.

I write this and share it to show the reality of being a refugee or asylum seeker. I write this and share it to show that just getting out of Afghanistan, or any country that is experiencing severe violence or upheavel, is not the happy ending most people think it will be. I write this and share it because I know there are others out there that are in similar circumstances and I want them to know they are not alone. I write and share this in the hope that someone, somewhere, will have good advice for me.

If you are in Afghanistan and have family that made it out, please do not be angry at them that they have not been able to get you out. Do not be angry that they might have access to happy activities you do not. Tell them what is happening in the country where you are, tell them what is happening with the family, and never hold back from saying the truth of what you see and what you experience. Never give up hope that you will be together someday.

If you are in Afghanistan but your children were able to make it out, encourage them to do well in school. If they are old enough, encourage them to work, and to do a good job in that work. Encourage them to be respectful and supportive of their elders and of each other. Encourage them to save money and to live a good life so that, eventually, they will have the resources necessary for you to join them.

If you are trying to help refugees from Afghanistan, or any country, please do not be shocked or disappointed that they are not happy every day, every moment. Do not be disappointed if they seem sad a lot. Remember that they are still in touch with family back in their home country and are hearing horrible stories about life there, and the family may be pressuring them and criticizing them. And remember that every day for refugees is a struggle of paperwork and bureaucracy and trying to figure out things that might be very easy for you.

I thank you for reading my story. I hope my next essay is more full of good news. 

Info for Press & Others:

If you would like to interview Asma, please contact me. Please include your full name, the name of your media company, and a link that shows you are real and have no association whatsoever with the Taliban or any entity that is sympathetic to the Taliban.