Be strong, my daughter

Elyas and Latifa had been wanting to have us over for an Afghan lunch for months, as a gesture of gratitude to KindWorks for setting up their apartment when they first arrived in the U.S. about a year ago; they were one of the thousands of Afghans who were evacuated when the Taliban took over the country. The resettlement agency they were assigned to was swamped so contacted us; we reached out to our community to gather the 150+ items—from furniture to towels to spices—to create a warm and cozy home. A couple days ago, we went to Elyas and Latifa’s sunny Silver Spring apartment for kabuli pulaw, chicken degi kebab, and doogh, a savory yogurt drink with mint and salt. The food was delicious, but the most scrumptious thing wasn’t on the menu—toothy, smiley, cuddly 11-month old baby Rohan, who captured our hearts!

Elyas and Latifa were first evacuated to Albania in August 2021, where they stayed several months. Eight months pregnant, and with Elyas’ medical clearance report held up, Latifa traveled to the U.S. alone to have the baby. I asked her how she got through those stressful first few weeks, alone in a new country, pregnant with her first baby, her husband in Albania and her family in Afghanistan, unsure of life in America and not knowing a soul. She said she kept thinking about what her mom had said to her all her life, ‘Be strong my daughter, and never give up.’ “My biggest supporter has always been my mom,” Latifa tells me; her dad died when she was 13. Latifa didn’t tell her mom that she was going to America alone, she didn’t want to worry her; but she kept her mom’s words close to heart, “be strong, you are strong.”

Tomorrow Latifa starts a new job at the House of Representatives cafeteria, having recently completed a culinary program. “When I was in Afghanistan and I would see the news or a movie and I saw the Capitol Hill, I used to think that was the White House. I would think is it possible that one day I would go there and see these buildings. I cannot believe that I’m here and now I will work in this building. I believe I will find myself here.”

Good luck dear Latifa, we are rooting for you! And our wishes to your wise mom, on this Sunday before Mother’s Day next weekend—and to you.

Elyas used to work at one of Afghanistan’s leading investigative news outlets writing articles on politics and security. He is now their online chief editor supervising a team of journalists around the world. I asked him about his hopes for his son.

“In Afghanistan, generation after generation experienced a lot of difficulties, political conflict. My grandfather was forced to leave his country when Taliban took over the first time. My uncle was in school when he was forced to leave, and he could never finish school, he suffered a lot. My father was forced to leave Afghanistan as a refugee and go to a neighboring country and he was not able to finish his education. I was thinking I would not experience what they experienced. But suddenly it happened to my life as well; suddenly one night you wake up and there is no republic.

The one thing that I am always thinking about for Rohan is I hope he never experiences what his father and grandfather and great grandfather went through. They sacrificed their lives, their wishes, they never achieved what they wanted to. I am trying to support him as much as I can to make sure he grows up with equal opportunities and rights.”

At night Elyas reads Persian poetry, history and literature, to his baby—Hafez, Maulana Rumi, Ferdowsi, and Saadi. He wants to make sure Rohan knows about his culture of origin and where he comes from. One of Elyas’ favorite verses is from Persian poet Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat:

Alike for those who for To-day prepare,

And those that after some Tomorrow start,

A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,

“Fools! Your Reward is neither Here nor There.”

“So when I arrived in the U.S., I thought I’m not alone here. I will find friends, I will find organizations for support. I didn't know there was a group called KindWorks. But the day that I received the key to our apartment with a keychain that said KindWorks, and I saw that the apartment was all set up for us, I thought, now here is home; life can be started from here.

There is a proverb in Afghanistan, that if you have a place to sleep for just one night, then you can find your way.” — Elyas