I Didn't Come This Far Just to Come This Far

I am Marwa Ehsani (pen name), a 19-year-old Afghan girl. From a very young age, I was fascinated with advocacy, wanting to one day be a voice for the voiceless, fight for justice, and be a life-changing senator. Growing up in Afghanistan, my passion for this would often come alive, but the world around me did everything to extinguish my dreams. I also loved football and wanted nothing more than to play with my brothers. But when I turned 10, I stopped-not because I wanted to or even because someone told me to, but because the stifling culture around me made it crystal clear that girls were not allowed to play.

While I had to learn to suppress my dreams, my heart always ached to accept that, as a girl, my rights were limited. However, I never let go of my love for learning. I held education as an escape, as something that could stretch out a helping hand when I needed it most. But in 2021, when the Afghanistan government changed, the hand which provided this escape was abruptly removed from me, and my remaining dreams and hopes were shattered. A few years ago, when my mother and my teachers spoke of their life experiences under the control of the Taliban, I was only able to imagine how hard and devastating their lives must have been. Little did I know that I would have to experience the same. My doors to education were violently shut, and I was robbed of the future I had envisioned for myself. I felt defeated.

Watching my dreams being destroyed while I was powerless felt unreal. It was a painful experience. But I chose not to give up. I could not lose my purpose and sense of self so easily. I chose to fight back, and fight with knowledge. Despite doors being shut, and my hope for an education being forcefully removed, I did not give up. I taught myself English by finding resources, practicing and persevering. As I progressed, I began picking up other languages, starting with French. If nobody was willing to teach me, I would put in the effort and learn. However, I was never satisfied with just learning myself-I always had to help other people learn too. I noticed my Afghan sisters losing their dreams and futures, just as mine were stolen from me. I understood my obligation to act. That is how I formed Future Leaders of Afghanistan to teach other girls who were barred from school. Watching them struggle for a chance to learn, for a chance to change their lives, gave me power. It was then I understood- I was not just some weak person. I was capable of creating change.

I seized every chance that came my way. I single-handedly got the attention of Brave Generation Academy and attended it with vigor. I graduated with a distinction in ATHE Level 3 Business and Management and later obtained another distinction in ATHE Level 4 Computer Science. With every stride I took, my dream felt more tangible. However, there was still more that I wanted to achieve. This was the very reason I started YDL, a platform that I designed to empower young Afghan girls with programming and coding skills that would allow them to shape their own worlds. Through this, I also provided well-being and leadership training sessions so that they could learn to stand tall in a society that suppressed them.

While I fought for our education, another battle unfolded. My grandparents were trying to get me married off to a man three times my age. The idea of losing my dreams and my true self was devastating. But even if the man had been my age, I would not have accepted it. I was not born to live a life that someone else decided for me. I am meant to fight and rise up in order to advocate for the women before me and the girls after me. So, with the help of my parents and an NGO called Brave Future, I started to work on my escape. I ran to Pakistan.

Moving to Pakistan did come with its own set of challenges, but when you come face to face with a new life, the notion immediately becomes exciting. I lived there without any certainty about my future, but I had hope, courage, and most importantly, I had my voice. I never thought I would be living in Pakistan alone, especially as an 18-year-old girl who knew absolutely nobody and didn’t speak the local language all that well. Yet, there I was. I embraced the local customs by learning the language, developed meaningful relationships, and shared my culture. After running away from a life where I was forced into marriage, I fled, hoping to find safety, knowing that the journey forward wouldn’t be easy. I don’t regret the decision because it gave me autonomy and control toward carving out my own destiny.

After knocking on every possible door, Brave Future finally succeeded in getting me to Kenya, where I was welcomed at one of its hubs in Kilifi. I cannot put into words the depth of my gratitude for this chance. For so long, my life felt like it was stuck in a constant cycle of barriers every time I dreamed, the world seemed determined to close another door in my face. But arriving in Kilifi felt different. For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of safety, of possibility, of being seen for who I truly am.

Kenya was not just a new country, it was a new chapter, a lifeline that reminded me that even when everything feels impossible, hope can still break through. I remember stepping into the hub and feeling overwhelmed not by fear, but by relief. I was no longer just fighting to survive; I was being given space to grow. That single act of support reminded me that humanity is not lost, that there are people and communities willing to lift us when we stumble. And for that, my heart will always carry a profound sense of gratitude.

The world has a strange way of silencing people. In my case, instead of succumbing to it, I decided to fight back. I abandoned everything that was once known to me and was forced upon me, and I stood my ground. Because when I now look back at how far I have come, every ounce of struggle that I had to face was to be in control of my life, my dignity, my dreams, and in summation, my destiny. Never will I want to be a passive observer of history when I can shape it so that every girl has the chance to live her dream without worrying about gender-based restrictions.

My experiences have taught me a lot. My dream is for Afghan girls not to grow up in fear, in silence and in subjugation. And my future lies in carving the way for others so that they live without fear. 

I didn’t come this far just to come this far. 

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