I am Elahah Rizaei,
a small voice,
but an echo of thousands of stories from the heart of Afghanistan.
Once, I went to school, I studied,
and I dreamed of becoming a pilot.
But August 15 came and took everything from me:
they closed my school, took away my books,
and silenced my dreams.
August 15 was not just a day,
it was the day our lives fell into darkness,
the day our freedoms were stolen,
and our voices turned into silence.
I am a girl whose only crime was wanting
wanting rights, wanting a pen, wanting education,
and wanting liberation
liberation from the darkness and traditions that deny our humanity.
Once, I heard my teacher’s voice from behind the classroom door,
once, my name was on the list of top students,
once, I went to school, I studied,
and I dreamed of becoming a pilot.
Today, I hear the sound of gunfire,
and my name is on the list of prisoners.
My mother tells me, “Daughter, read.”
But what should I read?
When my notebook is burned,
when my school is destroyed,
when my world has been drowned in darkness.
For four years, they have buried us,
but they did not know we were seeds;
in the heart of the soil,
in the heart of the darkness,
in the heart of silence.
I came out of prison,
but the prison still breathes inside me.
Oh world!
Do you hear our voice?
Or have you stuffed your ears with the cotton of politics?
I am a girl from the heart of Afghanistan,
writing to you from the depths of darkness:
Do not forget us!
Our voice is the voice of history,
the voice of justice,
and a cry for freedom.
We have risen again,
with hearts full of hope,
with hands joined together,
and with a spirit that will never be broken.
Stronger than ever,
we still stand
for a brighter future,
for a free and proud generation.
Elahah Rizaei, words at the women’s protest event, during the August 15 Conference organized by the Afghanistan Women’s Justice Movement, were an echo of truth — a moment where one woman, with a loud and unwavering voice, carried the cry for freedom and justice to the ears of the world.
