Shadow and Mirage
My activities with international projects put me at risk of prosecution by the Taliban
I am now seeking a safe place for myself and my family, away from threats and violence
The Fall of Afghanistan – I Am an Eyewitness
Disastrous Exit. Broken Promises. Living the Fear.
With the rapid collapse of Afghan cities, the country fell into complete chaos—security evaporated and the economy crumbled. I remember how Commander Ismail Khan, a respected jihadi figure, stood by the government forces in Herat with his loyal men. Some were killed fighting to delay the city’s fall.
Rumors spread that if one could make it to Kabul Airport, escape was possible. People told wild stories—like a rickshaw driver who dropped goods at the airport and ended up boarding a plane out. But reaching Kabul was full of deadly risks: arrests, detentions, and even suicide bombings awaited those who tried.
I believed international organizations would help. But they didn’t. We were alone. I clearly felt the fear growing, knowing what the Taliban’s rule had been like before—force, torture, and misogyny.
Assassinations in Herat brought the fear of death close to home, as some occurred only blocks away from where I lived.
am an eyewitness
I am an eyewitness. The war had intensified, and Herat fell. The last place of resistance was the Herat National Security building, which collapsed early that night. At first, I thought the fall was political and wouldn't affect civilians, but I was wrong. The Taliban investigated military personnel, executed many, and easily killed anyone who opposed them. Those who had worked with foreigners or international organizations faced immediate death threats.
I was hiding in my house. A few days before the fall, our home was shot at, likely from a Taliban camp nearby. They often saw me well-dressed and knew I had worked on international projects. My friends in the military had visited me several times with their vehicles, which made me a target.
One night, Taliban fighters stormed a house at the end of our alley, covering a man and woman’s heads and taking them away. The situation was becoming more dangerous every hour.
A few days before the fall, a friend of mine who sold fuel joked with a mullah, saying, “This man works for foreigners. What do you think about his money?” The mullah replied, “His money is forbidden, and his blood is halal.” That moment made my heart freeze.
I had faced similar threats before, but this time, the fear was overwhelming. Finally, we had no choice but to flee.