It is Girls' Day!
A day when, in many parts of the world, people speak of girlhood, the right to choose, education, and the future that every girl has the right to build for herself. But we, the girls of Afghanistan, experience this day differently. For us, Girls' Day is not merely a date on the calendar; it is a reminder of all the rights we ought to have enjoyed—rights we have been waiting years to claim.
We are the girls of Afghanistan; girls whose dreams sometimes boil down to a simple wish: to go to school, to study, and to decide our own futures. These are aspirations that are taken for granted by girls elsewhere in the world, yet for us, they have become distant dreams. Who would believe that, in this day and age, there are still girls unable to attend school simply because they were born female?
Our pain goes beyond the closed school gates. Our pain lies in being denied the chance to discover our own potential. We do not know how many of us might have become doctors, teachers, or engineers—or who might have contributed to the development of this very land—had we been allowed to study. We have not even had the opportunity to demonstrate the capabilities we might have shown in the future.
Sometimes I ask myself: what sin did we commit by being born girls? Did we choose the land of our birth? Did we ask to have to fight for our most basic human rights? Why must being a girl exact such a heavy price from us? Why must we endure such injustice simply because we are girls? We, too, are human beings; we have the right to study, to think freely, to make choices, and to play a part in shaping our own futures. Education is our right, not a favor granted by others. Freedom and respect are our rights, not privileges to be given or taken away at someone else's whim. No girl should be denied the right to a better life simply because of her gender.
Yet, what many people may not realize is that we—the girls of Afghanistan—do not merely exist within the confines of our deprivations. Despite all the hardships, we are the ones who continue to strive for a better life. We still yearn to learn, to grow, and to one day reach a place where we can be of service to ourselves and our people. We have endured great pain, but that pain does not equate to powerlessness.
Being strong does not always mean smiling or appearing fine. Sometimes, strength means thinking about the future even while carrying your sorrow. It means recognizing your own worth and refusing to lose hope, even when opportunities have been stripped away. It means understanding that being denied a right does not mean you were unworthy of it.
That is why the Day of the Girl holds a different meaning for us. When this day brings talk of girls and their rights, our thoughts turn to the thousands of girls still waiting behind barbed-wire windows for school gates to open. We think of the girls gazing longingly at their books, and of those who worked for years to reach university only to suddenly face closed doors. We remember all the girls whose futures have been shaped by decisions in which they played no part. That is why, if you intend to wish us a happy "Day of the Girl," we ask you not to stop at just a few beautiful words. Speak up for our rights, speak about the deprivations we face, and talk about a future where no girl in Afghanistan is denied education or a full life simply because she is a girl. We do not want to be seen on just one day of the year; we want our humanity and our rights to be acknowledged every single day.
We do not seek pity or sympathy; we demand our rights. We do not want people to merely feel sorry for us and then forget us—as has happened so often over the years. We want the opportunity to build our own futures. We want a day to come when no Afghan girl has to yearn to go to school, and no family has to worry that their daughter will be denied the right to an education.
Despite all this, I am proud to be a girl. I am proud of myself and of all the girls of Afghanistan, for our worth cannot be measured by the restrictions imposed upon us. We deserve respect, even if others do not show it. We deserve an education, even if school doors remain closed to us; and we deserve a bright future, even if reaching it seems difficult today.
Today, I wish a happy Day of the Girl to all the girls of my homeland: to the girls living amidst deprivation inside Afghanistan; to those living far from home who have not forgotten the pain of their country; to those who are still waiting; and to those who grapple with harsh living conditions every day. Happy Girls' Day to us—for whom being a girl is no crime. To us, who have the right to learn, to choose, and to live. To us, who—despite everything taken from us—still know our own worth.
We are the girls of Afghanistan; girls who know our rights and never forget that we deserve a better life. Hundreds of restrictions may loom over us today, but the deprivation of the present must not be our eternal destiny.
I long for a day in Afghanistan when Girls' Day is not merely a time to recall our pain and the rights that were stripped away. A day when girls can go to school and university in peace; when we can live like white doves in the vast skies of our dreams, work, and decide our own futures. A day when no girl is forced to fight to prove her worth, for our value transcends words.
Until that day, happy Girls' Day to us—to us, who...