Unfinished Dreams; Kankor Without Afghan Girls

Final Part | Girls Who Still Haven’t Let Go of Hope

Photo: UNICEF

Author: Roina Bakhshi

The girls supported one another through studying, and most of them began working as tailors to create a small ray of hope for themselves.

Raihan blew out the candles on her eighteenth birthday cake and silently wished for the reopening of schools and the fulfillment of her dreams. Her father looked into Raihan’s hopeful eyes and heard the voice of her heart.

“My dear daughter, study at home. Don’t lose hope. Believe in your future. You are your father’s brave girl.”

Raihan smiled, spent a few moments with her family, and they enjoyed the cake together.

Though standing again in the depths of darkness was deeply anxiety-inducing for Raihan, her books once more became her refuge. She decided not to care about what people said, because people always judge based on their own minds and perspectives. What truly matters is the voice of our own heart.

Her father said lovingly,

“My beautiful daughter, don’t worry! You must be strong. You will finish school, just keep trying and trust in God, who is very kind.”

Raihan replied with a smile,

“Yes, Father, you’re right. I will try again to stand tall. Your daughter has a father as courageous as you, and with you by my side, I have no fear.”

Her father asked,

“My daughter, do you promise?”

Raihan smiled again and said,

“Yes, I promise… Thank you for being there for me, dear Father.”

Raihan had dreamed of being accepted into Kabul University as a journalism student, but sadly, that dream remains unfulfilled.

Suddenly, with renewed excitement, she opened the cabinet doors, took out her notebooks and her black and blue pens, and began writing down her memories.

Within her words and reflections, it was as if she began to soar.

In the afternoons, Hadia would come to Raihan’s house, and the two of them eagerly reviewed their school subjects: math, biology, history, geography, and all the subjects necessary to prepare for the Kankor entrance exam.

The next day, Hadia sat on the chair behind Raihan’s brown desk, staring at the green leaves of the trees beside the window. The weather was warm; she opened the window to let the fresh air fill her lungs.

“Raihan, what do you think? Will we be able to take the Kankor exam? Will the Taliban allow us to attend university? I honestly don’t believe that the Islamic Emirate or the Taliban will ever let girls be educated.”

She fell silent for a moment - then suddenly, her voice cracked, and she broke into tears.

Raihan quickly got up, embraced Hadia, kissed her fragrant black hair, wiped her tears, and said,

“My dear, we must believe in God and strive for our goals. We will take this exam, and in the end, we will succeed and enter university. We just need to be strong and not lose hope.”

Raihan gently comforted Hadia, holding her in her arms, hoping with all her heart that her words would one day come true.

In those difficult times, the girls stood by each other, resisted, and never stopped trying; so they could be a source of hope for their generation and continue their path with courage.

(To be fully prepared for this exam.)

She had been watching the news on TOLO TV for a few minutes when the announcement came:

“Female students of grade twelve are allowed to take their final exams and make necessary preparations.”

It was the best moment and the most uplifting news Raihan had heard in a long time. Overwhelmed with excitement, she immediately called Hadia.

“Did you hear? We can take our twelfth-grade exams, and maybe later even the Kankor exam! It’s a positive step. What do you think?”

Hadia was thrilled too.

“Thank you, my dear, for the best news! Hahaha, look at you, today you truly gave Hadia a gift! We’ll soon have a mountain of work and preparation ahead of us!”

Both girls were overjoyed and determined to do their best in the exam. After a long time, Raihan had a smile on her face. When her parents looked at her, they saw her laughing, and hope shining in her eyes. With kind behavior and a renewed spirit, she reconnected with her family and relatives.

When the heart starts beating again and blood flows through the veins, passion and motivation return to the body. This news was a spark of hope for the Kankor exam.

In the year 2023, on a partly sunny day, all the twelfth-grade girls returned to school to take their exam. The girls wore black clothing (hijab), and their beautiful faces were hidden behind black masks.

When they saw their classmates again after so long, they embraced, kissed, smiled, and wept. How heavy the wait had been, how deeply the heart trembles in the countdown to seeing loved ones again. The exam, much like the Kankor, included all the subjects of grade twelve and was administered across several pages. Raihan and Hadia sat together on the same bench, busy solving the questions. At last, it was over, and they returned home filled with joy and excitement. They shared stories of the exam day with their families, recalling each memory one by one.

As the real Kankor exam drew near, Raihan studied hard, determined to succeed and be accepted into her desired field, a profession neither her relatives nor the government approved of for girls. But Raihan was passionate about it and worked tirelessly to reach her goal.

She knew that becoming a journalist under Taliban rule was incredibly difficult, yet she believed that one day she would be free and continue this profession, to bring pride and service to her people by sharing news and information through television channels.

Hadia, on the other hand, loved economics and was eager to work in that field. Two different dreams, two different paths; both lined with the unique struggles that girls in the country now faced.

First, the exam was to be held in the provinces. The girls, like the boys, happily completed the Kankor registration process. It was a moment filled with hope for their future and their dreams.

But suddenly, everything changed. The government announced that girls would not be allowed to take the exam. Hearing the news felt like a sudden, crushing blow. It was hard to describe Raihan’s feelings, she had never imagined it would come to this. Her heart flared with pain, her belief shattered, and she cried again and again, as pearl-like tears soaked the hem of her clothes.

Everything now felt like a dark galaxy in which Raihan was drowning. She no longer wanted to watch the birds outside her window. Their chirping no longer brought her peace, their fluttering from branch to branch and building of nests no longer fascinated her.

Once, strength and kindness were visible in her eyes. But now, she was a girl whose spirit had been scattered in the air. No one could help her, because the government’s decision about the 2023 Kankor exam had already been made.

The boys in the country took the exam without the girls and went on to enter the universities. It was a painful day for the girls. Raihan’s heart was more wounded than ever, and she endured a bitter experience that crushed her thoughts.

“My dear, you’re destroying yourself… I can’t bear to see you in pain any longer.”

“Mom, everything is ending me along with itself.”

“My daughter, you’re not the only one… look, girls your age are suffering too. You must become a symbol of hope for them, not lose yourself.”

Her hair had fallen messily over her shoulders, her eyebrows were furrowed, and she rested her head on her mother’s knees and drifted off to sleep.

About a month later, the results of the boys’ exam were published on social media; a suffocating moment for the girls. Raihan said sorrowfully,

“If I had taken the exam too, I would have received my results by now. I’m sure I would have succeeded.”

Rahmat’s jokes sometimes lightened her mood. Hadia visited her often. They went to the library together and inhaled deeply the fresh scent of newly printed books.

“In the heart of despair and under a dark shadow, we must look for a shining star.”

“What if it doesn’t shine?”

“No, believe me. When something is placed in your heart, the way to reach it will also be made.”

“Raihan, come see this book! It’s by the Turkish author Hakan Mengüç. Look what he wrote!” “Seven principles of life: positive thoughts, love, unconditional faith, forgiveness, helping others, gratitude, and prayer from the heart.”

“Yes, it’s so beautiful and precise. Listen to this too!”

“The world is a tree of wishes, and that’s why you must give value to your dreams and thoughts.”

“Raihan, let’s read more novels like this from now on.”

“That’s a great idea. Books are loyal friends. I want to write about my feelings, experiences, memories, unfinished dreams, goals, and the moments I’ve lived.”

“Now that’s the strong and brave Raihan I know!”

How beautifully Rumi has said:

Do not go to the alley of despair - there is hope.

Do not go in the direction of darkness - suns exist

The two of them picked up books and walked home together.

Raihan believed that God would surely heal her heart and give her strength. One day, she would serve her family and her people and always remain a kind-hearted girl.

Now Raihan lives in an uncertain future, floating between destiny and suspended dreams.

Yes - this story reflects the lives of girls like Raihan, girls who live in Afghanistan today. Girls whose souls are restless but who hide their pain behind a smiling face and continue to live with courage.