WLOG 007: Kabul 582

I am in Kabul again. Five hundred and eighty two days ago we went on a journey to the West, to Europe.

We were stopped in front of the walls and in the end, we went back where we came from. Now, I and my family know that it was a mistake. A big mistake.

by Tanaz Ullah

I remember the days when it all started, when all the neighborhood and all of our friends started to talk about Germany, how the Germans invited us to come, that there we will have apartments, schools, work permits, jobs, new life... In the beginning, I didn't believe in those stories, but people started leaving and all of a sudden people we knew were sending greetings from Germany.

An explosion in a mosque we went to sped up our decision. Father said we should go. We couldn't leave right away because grandpa and grandma were old and we couldn't just leave them behind. They wouldn't leave Kabul. Grandpa used to say that he fought against the Taliban, Russians and Americans and now he wanted to die in his Afghanistan. He was a retired teacher and I can thank him for the love for numbers and dates.

Father and mother, without the 3 of us knowing it, sold the land they had in province and from part of that money arranged with one family to take care of our grandparents. Father organized everything, we packed and on February 26th 2016 we left Kabul.

The road to Turkey lasted exactly 65 days. It was horrifying, I was scared and most of the time I kept my eyes closed. In one moment father said that the borders were closed, but we continued the journey. I trusted him that he knows what we should do.

They don't like us in Iran. The man who was leading us was looking at me in a way that made me look down. It was better in Turkey but we waited for our connection to continue further, thinking should we go across the sea or no. We were...

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