You said we could do it. We could be equal.
You said we should go to school.
You said you’d stand by our side.
I request, respectfully, that you listen to me.
I am young, I am female, I am Afghan
Now I realise I do not count because I was born in Afghanistan.
Your words of encouragement and promises ( now false) mean we will die slowly in history. No one will remember the young girls who went to school, who learned their abc’s
Who dreamt of becoming teachers, journalists, politicians.
Who believed it was possible to choose
To wear summer dresses and let our hair shine in the sun.
To sing whatever song we chose
To dance to the rhythm of our soul.
And today, I have to hide who I have become
I have to hide my face
I have to forget my dreams
You will forget me, I will not count.
How will you write my history?
I await your reply
Respectfully.
Karen Byrne