Remarks delivered at the Afghan Women’s Education Reception on Capitol Hill.
Two years ago, around this time, I was sitting on a beach in San Francisco. Steve Gates had taken me there as one of the very first things I did after arriving in the United States. At first, I was afraid of the water and refused to go in. But once I finally stepped into the ocean, neither Steve nor my friends could get me back out. The water was freezing cold, yet I didn’t want to leave because, for the first time in a very long time, I felt something I had almost forgotten existed: freedom.
That feeling is the reason I am standing here today.
I was born and raised in Kabul Afghanistan, and I recently graduated from High School. Today, I would like to share a small part of my journey.
Two years ago, I did not just leave Afghanistan. I left behind my family, friends, home, and everything I had ever known. I left in search of something many people take for granted: the freedom to learn, the freedom to have basic human rights, and the freedom to be myself.
After the Taliban took over, I spent months feeling hopeless. It was difficult to stay positive when all I could see was darkness. But eventually, I realized that I had to choose between letting my dreams disappear and continuing to fight.
I chose to fight.
I attended secret schools, took online classes, and worked tirelessly to learn English. Every day, I walked an hour and a half to a secret school, taking back roads to avoid encountering Taliban members. Education had become something dangerous, yet it was also something worth risking everything for.
Then, a door opened.
I received a full scholarship to Berkshire Waldorf High School and learned about ASRF. They helped me reach Pakistan safely and supported me through one of the most uncertain times of my life. Eventually, I arrived here in the United States.
Standing in that freezing ocean, I finally understood what freedom felt like. In that moment, I knew that every sacrifice, risk, and difficult step had been worth it.
Today, I stand before you as a high school graduate preparing to attend college this fall—something that once felt impossible.
But this moment is not only about me. It represents the journey of every Afghan girl in this room and countless others whose dreams are still being denied. We understand the true value of education and freedom because we have lived through the pain of having both taken away from us.
This moment is the proof that even in the darkest times, hope can survive, opportunities can change lives, and dreams are worth fighting for.
As we gather today, I also think about the girls who are still waiting for the same opportunities that changed my life. I hope that one day, no one anywhere in the world will have to fight for their basic human rights.
Education, freedom, and dignity are not privileges. They are fundamental rights, and no one should ever have the power to take them away.
Thank you everyone for being here and supporting us.