She was so overwhelmed with excitement and anxiety that she lost control of her hands and feet. She couldn’t believe this day had actually come true. She had thought the black graduation gown and cap would remain just a dream. When she looked at the hall full of people, her hands began to tremble and her heart beat faster and faster – as if it was about to leap out of her chest. Her face turned pale, a chill took over her whole body. She was afraid. How could she speak in front of all those people? Sometimes, nervously, she peeked at the crowd from behind the curtain. Other times, she practiced her speech in front of the mirror, full of anxiety. Her turn was coming. She had to go on a stage where hundreds of people were seated. And she had to speak.

Her professor approached and asked, “Are you ready?” Salma stood up and said, “No, professor, I can’t! I can’t even stand here out of fear. If I go in, I’ll faint!” The professor gently took Salma’s hands in her warm fingers and said, “Look, my daughter, just go back three years in your mind. Remember how hard you worked to reach this very day. Remember how you promised yourself this moment. Everyone is waiting eagerly to hear you.” Tears welled up in Salma’s eyes. She embraced the professor – the one who stood by her like a mountain all these years and caressed her like a mother. Her tears slid down her cheeks like pearls. “I waited so long for this day,” she said, “I worked so hard for it. But if it weren’t for you, I could never have made it. Every time I fell, you were the one who lifted me up. You gave me hope and reminded me again and again to be strong and to keep fighting!” The announcer came and said, “Salma, you must be on stage in two minutes.” Her professor squeezed her hand once more – a silent reminder that she was still there, still by her side.

 Salma took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her face, and walked toward the hall. The announcer began. “In this part of the program, I invite a student who not only fought against the challenges of society but also battled through family difficulties. A student who continued with her shattered hopes and today, we witness her success. Please applaud for Salma, graduating with a degree in Law and Political Science!” With trembling legs, she walked in. She was nervous, but also happy. Is all this applause really for me?, she thought. Her big eyes became moist, her heart wanted to burst into tears. Everyone fell silent, waiting for her to begin. She held a piece of paper in her hand. Her head was down. She didn’t know where to start. The hall buzzed after a long silence. Salma began to panic. She looked up and saw all those eyes waiting for her. She saw her elderly mother sitting on the other side, the same mother who had told her countless times: “My daughter, if there’s a dream in your heart, know that it is God who placed it there.” 

With a smile on her lips, half from fear, half from courage, she began. 

“In the name of God. Greetings to everyone present here today.” 

The hall grew quiet again. All eyes were on her, every ear listening to her words. 

She continued, “The day they announced this ceremony and said that students would give speeches, I wrote mine down. I practiced it for days, stood in front of the mirror and memorized it. But now, I think I don’t need to read from it, because I have so many things to say that are not written here. Standing on this stage after the arrival of the Islamic Emirate became a dream for me. I know it’s a pain experienced by thousands of Afghan girls. But for me, it was especially difficult. I was a girl with big dreams. Although I had a traditional family, my parents never stopped me from studying. Many times, my uncles and aunts tried to convince my father to pull me out, saying, ‘She’s grown up now, people talk. She knows how to read and write, that’s enough.’ 

But my father always replied, ‘My daughter is pursuing knowledge. What’s wrong with that?’

I’m grateful to God that I had a family who stood beside their daughter, not against her, like many others. 

But life has its way, sooner or later, it strikes. I finished school despite all the difficulties. Afghanistan is not a land of wealth. And my father, like thousands of other fathers, was a laborer. His earnings were just enough to feed us. I couldn’t afford private prep courses for the university entrance exam. But that didn’t stop me. I studied for hours, day and night. I prayed. I tried, and I saw the result. Eventually, after so much effort, I was accepted into Kabul University, in the field of Law, my dream. For two years, I studied with passion and joy.”

She took a deep breath and continued. 

“Life was going well, until it showed me its darker side. It was a gloomy, chaotic day in Kabul. Every day we heard rumors that provinces were falling. It was the 24th of Asad – the heart of summer – when I entered the classroom. The number of students was fewer than usual. A shadow of fear hovered everywhere. Not long after, the university president called all students into this very hall and said: ‘Kabul has fallen.’ I could feel the fear in his voice. He added: ‘The president has fled.’  No one could believe it. What do you mean, the president fled? It was strange to me too. Do presidents run away? The university president continued, ‘I ask all students to go home and stay there until things become clear.’ He turned to the female students and said, ‘No matter what happens, never lose hope.’ Then, without another word, he left the hall.

He’s sitting in the front row now, and I know he remembers that day well. The university president sat quietly, his eyes filled with wonder and pride, listening closely as Salma continued. “Everyone left in fear. I, too, walked home. On the way, I thought, this can’t last. Maybe two or three months. Maybe a year. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know that the dream of returning to university would stay buried in my heart for years. I didn’t know that the father who had defended me so many times against my uncles would die on a cold winter day. I didn’t know that my eldest uncle would, without asking me, marry me off to his eldest son. I didn’t know I’d be sent far from my home, to a remote village between two mountains, far from everyone and everything. I didn’t know how much I would miss my student days.”

Her eyes filled again. She took another deep breath and went on, “How far is a law student from a housewife who spends her days milking cows and farming? I endured great hardship these past years. But I thank God, because after every cold wind, there is a warm breeze. Back then, the idea that the Emirate would leave, that I’d return to Kabul and continue my studies, seemed impossible. Because from the moment the Emirate came, my life turned away from all my desires. And I know, I’m not the only one. Thousands of girls have lived the same pain. But I’m happy. My dream didn’t remain a dream. I reached the promise I made to myself. I’m happy I continued. I didn’t give up. I’m happy that my husband stood not against me, but beside me. He supported me so I could complete my studies. So I’m here to say, no dark day lasts forever. After every dark night, there comes a bright day. I’m here to tell others like me, don’t give up. Keep going. You can do it.” Her tears flowed like a flood.

The entire hall stood up and clapped, so loud, Salma didn’t know what to do with all the joy. All the students entered the hall and threw their black graduation caps into the air. The joy on Salma’s face and on the other graduates’ faces was indescribable, like it was real!

Suddenly, the cry of a baby woke her. She opened her eyes. She found herself beside her one-month-old child. She got up from bed, took her daughter into her arms, and looked into her face, into her sky blue eyes. She sighed deeply and said, “My beautiful daughter, I hope the dreams that remained only dreams for your mother will be achieved by you one day. Never give up. Never be like your mother. Be strong. And fight, for the dreams you carry in your heart.”