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I was born in 2008 in Nahrin, a district in Baghlan, Afghanistan. I’m the second son in a big family with seven sisters and two brothers. Life in my hometown was peaceful and full of warmth. People treated each other like family, and I remember those early days with so much joy. My father was a respected community elder and the head of the National Solidarity Program in our district. He was in charge of helping local people build roads and bridges and made sure workers were paid fairly. Everyone in the area respected and loved him.

When I turned seven, I started school. I studied from grade one to grade seven at Golmiran Shaheed High School. My older brother was working in Kabul in electrical engineering, and two of my sisters were teachers. My other sisters were students. Life was full of laughter, learning, and simple happiness. I used to play with my friends without any fear of the future.

Then everything changed.

The Taliban took control of Afghanistan. Schools closed. My father had to leave his job. Families who had always lived close to each other started leaving. My brother returned from Kabul, and soon, our home was no longer safe.

The Taliban came to our house several times. They wanted to take my sisters and force them to marry their members. My father and other elders of the village tried to stop them. The Taliban would leave for a day or two, then return again. One day, they entered our home and tried to take one of my sisters. I couldn’t just watch. I hit one of them with a stick. They tried to take me away, but my father and the village elders begged for my release. That time, they didn’t take me, but we knew they would come back.

That night, I left home with my older brother and sister. We had no choice.

We crossed into Iran illegally, facing danger and fear at every step. We stayed there for 15 days, then traveled to Turkey. The journey was long, sometimes walking, sometimes hiding in vehicles. In Turkey, we weren’t allowed to use phones or go into cities. After a week, we left for Greece by boat. That boat ride was terrifying. I thought we might not survive.

From Greece, we took a train to Italy, stayed there for ten days, and then made it to France. In France, we spent 16 freezing nights sleeping in forests, hoping to reach the UK. My older sister and her husband were already in the UK, and we believed we could finally be safe there.

Crossing from France to the UK by boat was one of the scariest moments of my life, but we made it.

Now I’m here, trying to build a better future. I go to college, I try to learn as much as I can, and I dream of helping others someday, just like my father did. But my heart still aches for my family back in Afghanistan. I haven’t seen them in three years. The schools are closed, and my father can’t return to his old job. I worry for them every day.

I didn’t choose this journey. But I carry it with strength.