The first time I understood what war was really like was on the eve of the Taliban's takeover of Kabul in August 2021. I was 22 years old. At the time, I was working for a service firm, overseeing one of the pioneering impact investment platforms. Our focus was on funding initiatives tackling environmental and societal challenges in Afghanistan. It was then that my boss relayed a critical message to the female staff through our company's chat: "Do not report to the office starting tomorrow; the situation looks serious."

I lost everything in one single night: my home, my homeland, my freedom. I hastily packed my essentials into my backpack: two changes of clothes, my laptop, and my passport, leaving everything else behind. Attempting to reach the airport proved futile on five separate occasions. Taliban checkpoints dotted the landscape, and I found myself among countless others desperate to flee the country. The airport tarmac swarmed with a frantic crowd. It took a month of relentless effort before I finally departed Afghanistan, escaping through a northern town. I left with my partner; we had gotten engaged a month before the regime's collapse.

We headed for Abu Dhabi, where we obtained our marriage certificate. Settling in at the Emirates Humanitarian City refugee camp, one of Abu Dhabi's two primary humanitarian hubs, we joined nearly 10,000 Afghans evacuated following the fall of Kabul. The living conditions there proved relatively favorable compared to other temporary refugee or military camps. We had our own room and access to Wi-Fi, which meant we could keep busy.

However, the problem was we had no clarity on the timeline for our resettlement abroad. We speculated it could stretch anywhere from one to even two years. What's more, we found ourselves confined within the humanitarian hub, unable to venture beyond its confines. At times, we faced prolonged periods where leaving our building was prohibited for an entire month, denying us the opportunity to lead a semblance of normal life or endeavor to integrate into society.

Despite the challenges, this experience has made me more resilient. I came to understand that even amidst the most challenging circumstances, opportunities abound. I worked online, managing some data projects for our team in Kabul. I also applied for the HEC
Imagine Fellows program, a prestigious scholarship tailored for students hailing from war-torn countries. A year before the government's collapse in Afghanistan, I had pursued several fellowship opportunities in both France and the UK. However, the volatile political climate in my homeland resulted in the French Institute in Kabul halting the progression of my application.

You have 64.59% of this article left to read. The rest is for subscribers only.