The Story of Loss, Courage, and Hope
Written by an Arrive staff member and former Afghan refugee client
On August 15, 2021, the world of Afghanistan collapsed in a single day. The Taliban stormed back with fear and violence. Schools that had echoed with children’s laughter fell silent. Girls carrying their books were turned away at the gates. Women who once worked in offices, hospitals, and the media were suddenly erased from public life. Families rushed to escape, while men who had partnered with the United States were hunted, tortured, and killed. The streets of Kabul, once alive with hope, became streets of fear.
I was there. I had worked on U.S. State Department projects, and when the Taliban arrived, I went into hiding. Each knock on the door felt like the end. For two months, I lived in the shadows, waiting, praying, and surviving. In October 2021, I finally escaped, but freedom did not come quickly. I spent almost three years in refugee camps, separated from my parents, my home, and my country. Those were the darkest days of my life. Yet even then, I carried one belief with me: that hope survives when humanity stands together.
When I reached Minnesota, the cold air on my face told me a new chapter had begun. Everything was different: the streets, the language, the people. But with the support of Arrive Ministries and kindhearted Americans who opened their doors, I found my footing again. I now have a job, a home, and, most importantly, dreams. I no longer think only about escaping death; I think about building a life.
For 20 years, Afghanistan had glimpses of light. Girls filled classrooms. Women became doctors, journalists, and leaders. Music returned to the streets, and markets were alive with energy. My generation believed that freedom was more than a dream. But that dream was stolen in 2021.
Today, Afghanistan is one of the most dangerous places in the world to be a woman. Girls are banned from secondary schools and universities. Women are forbidden from most jobs and silenced in public spaces. Brave reporters and aid workers are forced into silence. Poverty has deepened, and hunger has spread as fear replaces opportunity. Thousands of U.S. allies – interpreters, teachers, project workers – remain in hiding or stranded in neighboring countries – their lives, still constantly at risk, now spent waiting for the world to remember them. 
But the story of Afghanistan is not finished. Even in the shadows, Afghan women are teaching in secret, children are studying in hidden classrooms, and families are holding onto hope. Those who left carry not just memories of suffering but also dreams of rebuilding. Those who remain show courage each day simply by surviving.
Hope still breathes. Humanity still stands. And the future of Afghanistan is not yet written. With the support of the American people, we can keep hope alive for women, for allies, for a nation that refuses to surrender its dream of freedom.
