by Georgann Yara, working for ASU News
Laila Sahar didn’t see a lot of comprehensive authentic news coverage growing up in western Afghanistan.
In fact, it was the opposite. Sahar describes a filtered view partly controlled by the Taliban, which bred a stifled media that helped keep more secrets than expose them.
It’s the reason behind Sahar’s pursuit of a journalism degree at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication.
“When the Taliban came, they kept suppressing people, especially women. They kept them from speaking, telling them not to be strong. I love to be a journalist, to report what is going on around the world, especially in Afghanistan,” she says.
This is why Sahar wants her full name made public while many refugees with family still in Afghanistan wish to remain as anonymous as possible.
“I always like my identity to be known. In Afghanistan, people hesitated to share names and hid their identities, especially when it comes to women. But always, I'm ready to be myself with my identity,” Sahar, 26, says.
Sahar is among the Afghan refugees that ASU helped bring to Arizona last December. Sahar was in her second year of studies at the Asian University for Women in Bangladesh when her campus closed due to COVID-19. She was continuing with online courses in Afghanistan when she and 60 of her classmates made a miraculous evacuation flight out of Kabul, thanks to efforts made by ASU and its donor partners.
Sahar’s parents worked hard to put her and her siblings through school. Her mother made embroidery and sold them in markets to pay for her tuition. Appreciation of their sacrifices fuels Sahar’s dedication to complete her degree, which ASU will fully fund.
Her future plans include returning to her homeland when it’s safe. Should Sahar follow through with that, she understands journalism could be a perilous career.
“If it takes my life, it’s OK because I feel we should sacrifice for a generation. They should know what it’s like to be brave, to learn to have the courage to sacrifice for a better change in society … I want to be brave and work hard. I didn’t get to this point easily,” Sahar says.
Sahar has a square jaw and straight dark hair that’s neatly pulled back, barely brushing her shoulders. Her facial features are strong yet elegant. It’s easy to envision her being a reporter, behind a notebook or in front of a camera.
Sitting in an outdoor shaded courtyard with trees overhead and the voices of passersby in the background, Sahar is in a much different place than she was a few months ago. Even a year ago.
This place is far from the only one she’s called home — the place where her parents and six siblings still live. Sahar is worried about whether the Taliban will recognize her sister, who worked for the former government, or brother, a taekwondo coach who trained the Afghan army.
“Maybe I will be safe. But what about my family? I’m making the most selfish decision ever,” Sahar says.
Here, she doesn’t mention the possibility that being a journalist could get her killed.
Then Sahar quietly mentions the husband she left behind.
He was working in another province, providing aid to children who are victims of war with little or no access to food or medication. Sahar’s husband was standing on the side of the road when a member of the Taliban ran his motorbike into him, breaking his leg and sending him to the hospital for a lengthy stay.
At the time of the attack, they were engaged. The party Sahar’s family planned was canceled and the couple signed marriage documents. The hope was that as husband and wife, they would leave Afghanistan together. When Sahar departed the Kabul airport, her husband was still in the hospital.
As she recalls these moments, all of the emotion she managed to control becomes overwhelming. Her eyes fill with tears when she talks about her husband of six months, the man with whom she has never lived with or spent a night with as husband and wife.
“I should be beside him but I left him alone,” Sahar says as her voice begins to crack. “He said, ‘If I’m alive, I will come after you.’”
Her husband managed to escape to Pakistan, where he is today. He remains supportive, as does her family. To them, Sahar’s decision that ultimately brought her to ASU to earn a college degree is a very selfless and admirable one.
Their unwavering support adds to the complexity of emotions as Sahar tries to balance her new life as a university student dedicated to her goals, and a good daughter and wife to those she loves most who are a world away.
Thoughts about one day reuniting with her husband seem like fantasy.
“Somehow, it’s so far from my imagination that I see my husband…,” Sahar says, unable to finish the sentence.
She drops her head into her hands and quietly sobs, trying to muffle the sounds while wiping away tears. After a minute, the strength that allowed her to survive this far returns. She is composed.
“It’s not that easy to handle all the pressure and still be in class,” she says. “Still, thinking about the future is possible. It’s getting easier.”
Sahar says that her show of emotion may make others think she is weak. But take the time to listen to what she’s endured to be here and it becomes clear that’s not true. She’s very grateful for the opportunity she’s been given, and works to make the most of the investment strangers are making in her.
“Before, I was very nervous. But now, I’m busy with classes and my professors are very kind. Everything is perfect so far,” Sahar says.
Amid all the uncertainty, Sahar says she knows everything she encounters will make her stronger, and though her heart is broken, giving up never enters her mind.
“When I see all the injustice that is happening in Afghanistan, if I am able to change the life of one person I should be strong, so I never give up. I’m here to continue,” she says, lifting her chin with a gentle nod. “I hope all the challenges I went through will make me a strong person for my family, for my community. I need to be a good citizen and good human being to support other people. They should not face the same injustices and uncertainty I went through.”
Laila Sahar arrived in Phoenix in December 2021. Sahar was among 61 students arriving on a chartered flight that was made possible by ASU alum and private jet charter company Wheel’s Up founder Justin Firestone, Honeywell and Delta Air Lines, along with the support of an Intel Corporation of America grant. Sahar is currently taking classes at Global Launch, ASU’s English language learning and academic preparation program, with plans to earn a journalism degree.
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