Broken Dream

I come from a humble family, but I have always been full of hopes and dreams. I started school with great expectations. From my very first day, I made a promise to myself: I would never surrender to the difficulties of life. I would remain strong and determined so that I could achieve my goals.

I knew that I had to work hard. From the first grade, I studied with passion and enthusiasm. I loved my education and my dreams in the way that a mother cares for and nurtures her child. Every day that passed, I felt that I was getting closer to the future I had imagined for myself.

From first grade until twelfth grade, I was always the top student in my class. When I graduated from high school, I finished as the top student overall. Despite the financial difficulties my family faced, I began preparing for the university entrance exam with determination. I did not want to become a burden on my family. Instead, I taught students at home and used the small income I earned to pay for my own education.

I never gave up. Through the cold winters and hot summers, I continued my studies. My mind was focused on one goal: succeeding in the entrance exam and being admitted to the field I loved. I wanted to fulfill my father’s dream and make my family proud.

I worked tirelessly, day and night. The day before the entrance exam, tears filled my eyes because I remembered all the hardships I had endured to reach that moment. I took the exam with great hope and waited anxiously for the results.

When the results were announced, I was overwhelmed with stress. I wondered whether all my sacrifices and efforts would finally pay off. Then, by the grace of God and the reward of my hard work, I achieved my dream. I was accepted into the Faculty of Medicine with high marks.

My family and I cried tears of joy. I was happier than I had ever been in my life. On my first day at university, I felt like the luckiest person in the world. The first time I wore my white medical coat, I felt as if I had entered a new world filled with happiness and hope.

But that happiness did not last long. When the Taliban returned to power, my dreams and the dreams of countless other girls were buried beneath the dust. I fell into deep depression. For two years, I felt like a silent and lifeless person. Nothing seemed to help. No medicine and no effort could ease the pain I carried inside.

After two years, I realized that life was still moving forward and that I had to stand on my own feet again. I began taking online courses and worked hard to find scholarship opportunities. However, because of financial difficulties, I was unable to pursue many of them. Some scholarships that seemed suitable had age restrictions or language requirements that I could not meet. These obstacles caused me even more pain.

Sometimes I ask myself: Is this fair? I have the talent and the determination, but I do not have the opportunity. Will there ever be a day when I can return to university? Will there ever be someone in this world who will help girls like me, girls whose hearts are filled with dreams but whose paths to education have been blocked?

I still believe in education. I still believe in hope. And despite everything that has happened, I continue to dream of the day when I can return to my studies, wear my white coat again, and serve humanity as a doctor.

My dream has been delayed, but it has not been destroyed.