Warren Wilson’s Connection to Kabul: One Student’s Story
Sierra Davis | September 16, 2021
“I don’t know if I can still call it my country,” said Mah Begum Atimadi, a sophomore at Warren Wilson College. “That’s another thing that is super hard for us right now, for every Afghan, I think, that does not support the Taliban. Our identity is under attack.”
New students began unlocking their dorm rooms on August 16 for the 2021-2022 academic school year. Emotions were high as cars were unloaded; excitement, anxiety and the wonder of the unknown were looming overhead. However, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, emotions were high for very different reasons. On August 15, the Taliban began their takeover of Kabul, Afghanistan, and on August 16, evacuation flights were halted after five people were killed.
Atimadi, from the central province of Afghanistan, Daykundi, moved to Kabul with her family at the age of 13. Her and her family belong to the ethnic minority known as the Hazara people, who have faced discrimination from the Afghan government and citizens for decades. She first traveled to the U.S. when she was 17 to attend Desert Academy, an International Baccalaureate (IB) school in New Mexico. Desert Academy is where she discovered Warren Wilson, which she plans on graduating from with a double major in political science and global studies. As a peer group leader (PGL) for orientation, Atimadi was working at Warren Wilson when news broke of the Taliban taking over Kabul.
“I was doing orientation stuff here and finishing up the training and towards the end of the training is when action started,” she said. “I had to be a good guide for the freshmen and all these things happened. … At the time I was trying to be in three or four places at once. I had to give a tour to freshmen as well as holding my phone trying to contact my family, and watching the news and seeing the updates, and checking on my friends, all at the same time.”
Most of Atimadi’s close family resided in Kabul until recently. When the Taliban came into the city, they faced the hard decision of what to do next. After a failed attempt to get to the airport, those living in Kabul decided to flee to Pakistan in search of refuge with nothing but the children, some food and a change of clothes.
“They had to walk,” shared Atimadi. “I do remember once I was super worried; I did not know where they were. And then I called them and they were like ‘We’re in the middle of nowhere, walking, trying to cross the border.’ … It took them like three or four days to walk and cross the border. … Actually I talked to them (on September 9), and didn’t ask that much but I was like ‘How was the experience of crossing the border?’ and almost every one of them cried and couldn’t share how hard it was.”
The family members of Atimadi who remain in Afghanistan are not living in Kabul. Atimadi has a brother still fearfully living in Afghanistan who recently reached out to her for help while she is in the U.S.
“He was a policeman for a long time,” said Atimadi. “And 12 people were killed last week for no reason, and among those 12, three of them were my brother's fellows and friends. And he’s now terrified, he’s like ‘Well next time it’s my turn, and I feel guilty that I cannot protect my wife and my children.’ And he’s asking me for help, and I don’t know how to help. I cannot help him. I cannot help myself. That is a small, small example and it happens on a big, big level.”
However, this need to help but not knowing how isn’t just affecting Atimadi in relation to her brother — it’s becoming a larger problem in helping refugees in the U.S., too. She and many others have tried to send resources to military refugee camps in the U.S. since evacuations from Afghanistan began. The attempt to provide for these camps currently seems to be a dead-end road.
“Right now, the camps, they are not really willing to talk to us,” Atimadi said. “I know there are people needing their basic needs. They have not changed for twenty days. Like, we have clothes, we have everything, just how can we drop this off? Give us an address. Who is eligible to drop this stuff? … A good example is in Wisconsin there is a church group and they’re willing to donate and take food for them. They are ready for everything, just needing permission from the camp. … I’m still trying, we’re still trying. We’re putting in phone calls everyday, emails, and nobody responds to us. We’re lost. As always.”
These camps aren’t just withholding information for providing goods, either. Atimadi has also been trying to connect refugee minors in the U.S. with host families so they don’t have to stay at the military camps by themselves. This plight has been met with similar challenges by the camps.
“We knew a 17 year old girl in New Mexico and we found someone to host her and she was asking how they could get her,” Atimadi said. “They were ready to book a ticket and ask her to just get on the plane, and they’re going to go to the airport and pick her up. And three days later she texted us that they’re taking her to Chicago and we have no word after that. Chicago where? Where do you go? Do you know people? Did they talk to you? Did they explain to you where they’re taking you? And we don’t know where she is now and that is just one case. And there are thousands and thousands of people here.”
Yet, hope is not lost. Atimadi spoke on ways the Warren Wilson community can give to Afghan refugees. She also spoke on how communities can help refugees when resource-giving is not an option.
“Communities can open up more, just not to criticize people, not to ask them, not to judge them in general,” Atimadi said. “Not judge every Afghan based on what the Taliban do and what they did before. They are here because they don’t want to be like them. They are here. They left everything in their life behind because they were tired of what the Taliban was doing. They don’t want to experience it again.”
With thousands of Afghans being forced to leave their home country, and many of them being children, the thought of forgetting one’s culture does come up. When asked about the aspects of the Hazara culture she hopes refugees won’t forget, she spoke fondly on both the language and the traditional apparel.
“First of all, I would say the language, which is the whole country’s language, but still we have this accent, sort of. Very unique accent. And when we speak super deep in our accent, the other side of the country, they speak the same language, but they don’t understand … Don’t forget your language, don’t forget it, please. We have super efficient and very nice clothing in our region, … they are very hard and complicated, but just to keep it alive I would say to keep wearing those and keep making those and don’t forget about it.”
But most importantly, Atimadi wants to make sure nobody loses sight of the open-mindedness and sense of justice that the Hazara people share.
“Another thing I would say is to keep their democratic mind,” Atimadi said. “That’s something we always had and it was always taken against us, but that’s one of the most important values in most of our people’s lives.”
Further Information
www.espalo.org: An organization taking donations to promote education for refugee children.
Khadim Dai (khadimai@gmail.com): He can connect you with individuals who need assistance.