If I were free, I would sit on the grassy lawns of Kabul’s parks with a cup of tea and an open book. As twilight settled, I would take long walks to soothe my soul. Inside a moving car, I would let my hair down, allowing the breeze to run through it instead of keeping it tightly bound.
I would savor street food, eating jaleh and ice cream, while capturing portraits of everyday life on my camera. I would speak my dreams aloud and pursue them without fear—spared from the constant, disheartening reminder at every gathering: “With no school and no career left for you, why do you still hold onto such wild ambitions?”
If I were free, I would reclaim my seat in the front row of my university lecture hall. I would sit alongside my male classmates in a space where no gender discrimination could declare one superior to the other. I would look my professor in the eye, engage in debate, and prove that women are second to none.
June 18, 2026
By Hajara Sadat