From Herat to Hiding – A Family’s Escape

Eyewitness to Collapse. Survivor of Silence.

At first, I thought the fall of Afghanistan was just a political shift. But very quickly, it became clear that the Taliban would kill those who disagreed. I remember going to buy fuel from a friend, Mr. Ma’roof. He jokingly told a mullah, “This man works with foreign projects.” The mullah replied, “His blood is halal.”

That moment changed everything. With my family, we escaped to Pakistan via Nimroz. We were beaten by border forces, handed to paramilitaries, and held for three terrifying days. I destroyed documents proving my work with international groups to protect my family.

My daughter Tamanna had a broken arm, but we were captives. After paying $1,000, we were released. In time, we reached Tehran—deceived and drained. But at least we were alive.

Even in Herat, danger loomed. We lived near a camp linked to the Taliban. Their eyes followed me, especially when I traveled in official vehicles. One night, I saw armed strangers. And then came the execution of Mr. Khashe, a comedian, whose death was posted online.

In Iran, 2021 began with hope. I worked hard, paid rent, and started learning software. But in 2022, anti-immigrant hatred grew. I lost my job. Authorities said my registration meant nothing. Attacks on Afghans in Tehran grew—knives, beatings, humiliation.

Now, I live in hiding. I barely leave home. My daughters cannot go to school. And every day, we hope for a way out—somewhere safe, where we are seen, not hunted.