When I woke up the sun had already climbed high. My mother was not on the......

I have neither met Sophocles nor my grandfather both met the same fate Sophocles died reciting......

I held my head in my hands. Not from physical pain, but from the bitterness of......

Sumayyah sits on the bench in the schoolyard, thinking about her father and their last conversation......

One day, I saw a woman, helpless and alone,  crying out loud, wandering, on her own.  We asked,......

I lost my pen in blood.  I lost my knowledge in ignorance.  I lost my way......

When ink is pressed, into the pages of a book the book feels a sense of......

With Many Hopes With books and with a pen,  I dreamed to read and build my......

Oh God, hear the cry of Afghan Girls Oh God, hear the cries from the broken......