A Journey from Kabul to Bishkek

KABUL A JOURNEY TO FROM BISHKEK

Stories of Evacuated Students from Afghanistan to Bishkek After the U.S. Military Withdrawal

In the summer of 2021, with the withdrawal of US forces from Afghanistan looming, the administration of the American University of Central Asia (AUCA) developed a strategy with the support of the Open Society University Network (OSUN) to provide scholarships to Afghan graduates. AUCA has had a large contingent of undergraduate Afghan students for the past decade, thanks to scholarships provided by the US Embassy in Kabul/US State Department and Open Society Foundations (OSF). The new scholarships were envisioned as a means to provide opportunity to graduates, as Afghanistan faced an uncertain future.

As the summer progressed and the Taliban began to take control of an ever-larger area, it became evident that a concerted effort on the part of AUCA and its partners would be needed to help AUCA students still in Afghanistan, including the MA students, so that they could arrive in Bishkek to begin the fall term. With a Taliban takeover seemingly inevitable, AUCA also began working with the American University of Afghanistan (AUAF). AUAF, whose campus in Kabul had previously been attacked and was ultimately shut down, agreed to try and bring many of their students to Bishkek as well.

In the final weeks of August, AUCA, AUAF, the US State Department, OSUN, OSF, Bard College and Bard College Berlin (BCB) worked together to find safe passage from Afghanistan for students from AUCA, AUAF, the American University of Beirut, and the OSCE Academy in Bishkek. In the days immediately prior to the US troop withdrawal, AUAF and AUCA transported students safely to Hamid Karzai International Airport; AUAF, OSF and Bard College secured evacuation planes; and BCB worked with the German Foreign Ministry and German aid organizations to get students onto planes. Unfortunately, despite incredible effort, at this time no AUCA or AUAF students were able to enter the airport and make it to safety abroad.

With US forces withdrawn and Karzai Airport closed, the evacuation team decided to attempt a novel approach–evacuate students overland from Kabul to Islamabad, Pakistan via the Torkham border crossing and the Khyber Pass. With the support of OSF, the Kyrgyz and Pakistani governments, and working with a Finish security firm, a dedicated team scattered across the globe (from Bishkek, Islamabad and Kabul to Amman, Helsinki, and New York) worked tirelessly for two weeks to transport 114 students across the Pakistan border. Students were given less than 24 hours’ notice to gather at clandestine meeting points without luggage, then left in the middle of the night for the arduous journey through Taliban checkpoints to the border. Once at the border they were on their own, facing large crowds and chaos and often long, nerve-wracking waits, threats of violence, and on at least one occasion, violence.

The passage through the border was also harrowing, with guards seemingly stopping groups for hours without reason, students with positive Covid-19 rapid tests being separated from their classmates without either group knowing what would happen to them, and a fear that those waiting to meet them once they passed into Pakistan were not who they purported to be. Of the ten groups of students that attempted the overland journey, nine of them successfully crossed (all students from the failed attempt crossed with later groups). Nine students had the unfortunate experience of being quarantined in Landi Kotal near the border, but in the end all 114 students made it safely to Islamabad.

By late September, Kabul’s airport reopened and Pakistan International Airlines began to offer irregular flights to Islamabad. Though less dramatic than the overland crossing, securing flights, visas and safe entry into the airport proved just as challenging. With perseverance, patience, and considerable luck, an additional 63 students were able to travel from Kabul to Islamabad on three different flights.

Amazingly, all students who agreed to the overland evacuation and all students who attempted securing a seat on a flight to Islamabad made it to Pakistan without serious incident. No one was seriously injured, fell seriously ill, or was a victim of a crime. Students waited in Islamabad from two to 30 days for onward travel to Bishkek, but all were eventually able to leave Pakistan and resume their studies.

These are some of the stories of the brave students who made the journey and the international team that helped make it possible. Although edited for brevity, each story is in the teller’s own words.

Shamsuddin Amin

25 years old MA in Central Asian Studies

American University of Central Asia Nangarhar Province

August 14 began as a usual workday. We participated in a meeting at the governor’s office. That day, I was working closely with rural communities of Eastern Laghman to facilitate a crucial aspect of the project I was working on. It was to negotiate with the communities to allow women to participate in the project activities. However, fear was slowly sinking into the office, as the provinces were collapsing faster than expected and the news on the fall of Laghman was circulating. We were warned by our security team to leave the offices and seek refuge in Nangarhar. Around 12 p.m. I was done with the first meetings of the day with the community, as I received updates that the Taliban had entered the city and were hiding in houses. In total disbelief, our security team rushed us to cars to take public transportation, to spread out and leave the city. We were forced to leave everything behind. In the afternoon, Kunar province collapsed with no resistance, and in the evening Laghman and Nangarhar collapsed without any resistance from the Afghan National Army. We were forced to hide in relatives’ houses, as we were affiliated with a prominent NGO and were activists.

The first thought that rushed through my mind was the safety of my family. The idea that I had to suspend my projects was haunting me. For weeks, I was in shock and could not imagine what had happened. In fear as the Talibs were searching for former government and NGO employees, I had to erase all the data I had on my pc, phone and had to get rid of my documents. In a matter of hours, the way of life I knew, and how I imagined my future, was gone. No job, no home, nothing. It was like I was having a nightmare that never ended.

I had already made my peace with leaving the country just a week before the fall of the country by accepting a scholarship to study at AUCA, but I never thought it would be under such circumstances. Saying goodbyes to family and friends was difficult and leaving everything behind was hard, but my family was supportive of my decision. My dad helped me get to Kabul, as I was too afraid to travel alone. My mom, she is the greatest human I have ever known, hugged me as she was weeping and told me, “My sweet child you have suffered a lot, may God protect you from all the evil, I may not be alive when you return back but never forget your homeland.” It was a bittersweet moment. I had to make a hard journey but the feeling of being safe, to follow my dreams of studying and to just be alive, helped me through such moments.

It was an emotional journey, full of memories. The night we were leaving, we gathered at a friend’s place, hiding from threats unknown to us, afraid of everyone and everything. When we entered Pakistan, we all were relieved having escaped the brutality.

Afghanistan is my passion; I am in love with this country. However, considering the current political climate and without seeing a significant change, it would be difficult to return. But I am an optimist. I hope for a brighter future, when youth like me can come back to the country and rebuild it. I ask the international community to not forget Afghanistan. People are suffering, lives are at stake. Millions of Afghans are starving for food, education and opportunities. Please help the people in these difficult times. Please do not let my beloved country, my people, my young siblings suffer more.

Hanifa Yari

A25 years old MA in Talent Management

American University of Central Asia

Ghazni Province

few months earlier I had proudly returned home with a bachelor’s degree and secured a job. I grew increasingly concerned in the run-up to the collapse, thinking about myself, my family, my loved ones. I used to repeatedly ask friends who followed the developments closely for analysis, and for what one could expect in the coming weeks and months. Everyone seemed to be optimistic and believed that it was impossible for the Taliban to take over Kabul. However, they did believe that they might be in control of the borders and could put pressure on the market.

At around 10:30am on Saturday, 14 August 2021, I was sitting in the Cupcake Café which was newly opened in Qala-e Fatahullah, Kabul. On that day, I had several applications to review for one last time before submission. It took me about two hours to finalize and submit my application. While walking to get a taxi to go home, I noticed that the situation was weirdly different. There were signs of chaos, and people were rushing to ATM machines to withdraw cash. With a close friend of mine, I went to a few of the ATM machines for cash, but none had any cash left. Disappointed, I took a taxi home.

It was around 10:30 or 11:00 am the next day I had many messages stating that all the provinces had fallen to the Taliban. I was shocked and totally numb. In another group on WhatsApp a friend said that she had started hiding all her English documents, laptops, etc. I went out of my room and while my voice was trembling, I shared the news with my family. In an hour, I had decided to collect all my documents and hide some very important ones but burn the rest, but then decided to shred them. I had some certificates from school, and other programs. Before destroying my documents, I took photos of the most important of them and sent them to my sister in Bishkek, and asked her to save them for me. When I started destroying the certificates I couldn’t stop weeping.

I started thinking about applying for the MA scholarship program at AUCA. I applied, got accepted and applied for Kyrgyz visa. On 16 of August 2020, I read about the huge crowd at the gates of Kabul Airport and the evacuation. I do not remember when I first heard about the process of evacuation by AUCA, but those days the only thing that helped me not to lose my spirit was knowing that I would be out of the country soon.

After about a month, and with two unsuccessful attempts to get to the airport, we were evacuated overland through the Torkham border crossing to Pakistan, and from there to Kyrgyzstan. I left for the airport, my heart heavy and my mind busy thinking about what would happen.

The most painful thought was leaving my country and my family forever, not knowing whether and when I could return. I also kept thinking about where my country was headed, and what the future had in store for women and girls under the rule of a misogynist group. It was extremely agonizing, painfully shattering, and unspeakably disappointing. I couldn’t imagine how helpless we all had become – a generation who had ambitious plans and big dreams for changing the country into a better place for everyone. I do not remember how long I wept in silence, for my family back in Kabul and for the country and its people. I wished I had the power to change everything in this land.

Around 7:30 in the morning we arrived at the Torkham border crossing, standing in a queue waiting for the border to open. I made sure to check my hijab continuously to make sure my hair was not visible as that might give the guards any excuse to misbehave with me. One of the fighters approached us and asked for our passports. I started sweating and trembling as my passport photo was without a hijab. They checked the passports several times and left some of them on a chair and came closer to the crowd. It was about 11:00 a.m. that we had our passports stamped with entry permits and we began moving towards the bus waiting to take us to Islamabad. The few days in Islamabad were a relief as we felt safe and did some shopping.

It was almost unbelievable for me and other fellows that we finally made it to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. When we collected our belongings from the airport, we desperately needed a place to lie down and sleep for hours.

I missed home badly, wishing Afghanistan were a peaceful country and families were not forced to be separated. I was wounded deep inside. For days, I felt lost. Nothing was pleasant for me as before. I didn’t feel the weather, the streets, the food, or the environment. My thoughts roamed in the streets of Kabul, in the cafes that I had loved, in the shopping malls that I went to, in the gatherings that I went to, and at my home where I had left a family behind. I sometimes checked on my friends who were still in Kabul, always thinking what would happen to them under the rule of the Taliban.

Ahmad Ahmad Zai

21 years old BA in Computer Science

American University of Afghanistan

Kabul Province

Iwas working as a translator with one of the international consulting and translation companies in Kabul and had started my undergraduate program at the AUAf in 2020. Life was good. Then the Taliban took over and I had to leave the country. I remember the day when the president ran away; he released a statement on his Facebook page saying the national army of Afghanistan was fighting back and “we will win this war” and so on. Later that day–I think it was August 15th—we heard that our president fled and our army fully surrendered. I started thinking about all kinds of stuff. Being killed; watching my family face difficult times; my sisters not being able to go to school anymore…

A few days after the takeover, one of the police officers came to our street and started searching our home. It was evening when he entered our house with his militants and took our car, saying that it now belonged to the government. When the Taliban took our car, I knew that we did not have many days left. That is when I reached out to my university and asked if we could be evacuated. They assured me that they would evacuate me but not my family. It was a hard time deciding to leave my family and friends in a difficult situation. They all did not know whether they would ever see me again or if I would see them alive again.

I still had some hope in my heart because AUAF and AUCA were planning on evacuating us, but I was also getting so impatient. I had a small bag prepared and hoped I would get a call for evacuation. My luggage did not contain books, laptops, or other study materials but was filled with clothing. It seemed that we were stuck in a war zone or among zombies. In simple words, the situation was similar to a horror or an apocalyptic movie. I was worried about my luggage. Every evening I used to open my bag and check everything to make sure there was nothing that could get me into trouble.

I finally got a call for evacuation. My journey from Kabul to Bishkek was one of the most unforgettable moments of my life. Many other groups were evacuated before us and by land. I can’t even imagine how they and the evacuation team managed to do that. We submitted our passports to a travel agency and were going to be evacuated by air. After submitting our documents and getting the tickets and visas we were ready for the trip. No one slept. Not the students nor the evacuation team. Very early in the morning we were gathered in several locations and the cars came to pick us up and drop us to the airport. We were getting instructions from the evacuation teams in Bishkek and in New York and in Pakistan. We got to the airport and went through many checkpoints. I think we all aged that day. When we arrived in Bishkek, we didn’t know the language and we were worried about housing, food and other things. Everything happened so fast that we didn’t know all the details. After the quarantine was over and we had our orientation, things started to take a turn.

Amina Aimaq

22 years old

MA in Talent Management

American University of Central Asia

Kunduz Province

Unforeseen, one day prior to the fall of Kabul I was at home packing my luggage. I had a flight on Tuesday that week—the third week of August. On the day of the collapse, I was home alone. I received a phone call from my brother, who said that the Pole-Charkhi prison had released all prisoners and to stay at home. Suddenly all networks stopped working. The only thing which was on my mind at that time was my family. They were outside. I started thinking, this is it. I will stay there forever stuck with the Taliban, obeying their rule and law. I never thought I would ever leave Afghanistan again. One of the worst things I ever did in my life was leave my family in that condition. I had to. They wanted me to continue studying. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I was still there. Sometimes I think that I was thinking only about myself, even though my family was super supportive about my evacuation. I will never forget that night when I said goodbye to my family and I was thinking, when will I meet them again in my life.

Choosing Kyrgyzstan was not mine but my family’s choice because they wanted me to be safe and in a peaceful country and live a normal life. The journey to Islamabad was the saddest for me. I was not in a good condition; the whole way I was thinking about my mother. I only remember I was with a nice and kind family on the road trip. The mother of the family said one thing which my mother also told me before leaving the country which was “it’s not the first time that we Afghans are leaving our country and immigrating to another place. Be patient and know that we will all return here and I will see you here again.”

When I arrived in Bishkek I realized everything had changed. I will never go back to Afghanistan in summers the way I used to. But, all that aside, I am so grateful to the people who helped to evacuate us; they saved many lives and many talents. I am not sure yet if I want to live in Afghanistan because I have trauma and bad memories. I avoid thinking about Afghanistan because it only gives me pain and aches my heart. I will never forget I brought my 22 years of life in one backpack. If I ever know one of my wishes will come true, I will wish my country to find peace and my people to not die from poverty and hunger.

Ahmad Bais Oryakhel

22 years old

BA in Information Technology

American University of Afghanistan

Kabul Province

Iheard lots of scary stories about the Taliban from my elders. I was shocked at what the Taliban did and was like. For a while I thought that everything had just collapsed and we lost all our dreams and our future. I was lost for a while. The Taliban has ruined all my goals and my hopes, because the doors of education were closed that day, as well as all businesses. Everything just stopped.

Moving to a new country and starting over is one of the scariest things for anyone, especially when you have to leave your country and it is not your choice. The journey was not very exciting because we all were sad for our families and our country. I was very scared to move to Bishkek. However, with the support of the evacuation team and faculty and staff of AUCA we adjusted very quickly. I really appreciate the team that has helped us in evacuation in this difficult and dangerous time.

Going back to Afghanistan and serving my country and people is not my wish but it is my goal. When I heard of the evacuation, I promised myself that one day I will come back to my beloved country with full hands to serve her. I wish that one day I and other students can help bring peace and unity to our beautiful country.

Bibi Mahdia Yari

22 years old

American University of Afghanistan

Kabul Province

BA in International and Comparative Politics

It was an ugly day because Kabul fell to the Taliban. I thought I had lost everything that I worked for for years and could not continue my education. It was during the final days of American troops’ withdrawal from Afghanistan that I heard about the evacuation. Nothing else came to my mind besides my education.

Leaving at midnight I couldn’t say goodbye to my friends or extended family members. I could only say goodbye to my parents and siblings, possibly for the last time. I departed in haste, leaving them in tears and sorrow. The trip from Kabul to Torkham was good, but we had a fearful feeling because the Taliban were in every part of the borders and streets. The people who were with me had the feeling of returning and not crossing the border. It was a dangerous trip because we were on the border for more than 12 hours and traveling for more than 24 hours until we arrived in Islamabad. We didn’t eat, we didn’t sleep, nothing.

When I had my flight to Bishkek, I could not believe that I was leaving Islamabad and going to Kyrgyzstan. I had a good feeling and was happy that I was traveling there. When I arrived in Bishkek, I was too excited to see everything, including the city and people. I am privileged to be here in Bishkek and follow my dreams. It was a bitter but good experience and the hardest decision of my life. I will follow my goals at any cost.

Faezeh Fathi

22 years old BA in Business

American University of Afghanistan

Herat Province

There were two options for me: staying in a country with no education and consecutive dangers or pursuing my education and protecting my values. On Saturday at 7 a.m. we went to the airport and then flew to Islamabad. In Islamabad, we saw some famous city sites. It was nice and we were calm. Our families were happy. On October 8, we flew to Bishkek. It was all new for me—the people, customs, food, weather, everything. My only dream is to return to Afghanistan when things are normal again, so I can come back to my country and my birthplace and serve my country like other people do in countries around the world. I admire and appreciate the efforts and hard work of those who did us a favor during evacuation.

Farhadullah Shayan

28 years old MA in Economics

American University of Central Asia Nangarhar Province

It was horrific. Never had I imagined in my wildest dreams that the country, and Kabul in particular, would fall into the hands of the Taliban. A day before the fall of Kabul, around 3:30 in the afternoon, I received an email from AUCA asking me to move to Kabul at the earliest possible time. I decided to leave for Kabul early in the morning the next day.

Since that day, nothing was routine anymore. The entire government system collapsed. An entire generation that grew up under the republic in the last 20 years felt helpless, broken and dismayed at what the future would hold for them now. For many youths, their dreams shattered overnight.

My first two attempted evacuations were a failure. I returned home hopelessly and awaited the next call for evacuation. On the night of September 16, my journey with a group of other Afghan fellows began by land through the Torkham borderline. My only child, my wife, my parents and siblings were all in tears. I too couldn’t resist crying. It was extremely painful to leave my family behind knowing that things were not the same anymore. I still wonder how I pulled this whole thing off. Although I had made my decision to leave, I was not sure whether this was a sensible decision, which kept bothering me for weeks to come.

Everyone in our group was concerned about their security and wellbeing until we crossed the border and made it to Pakistan. Although broken and dejected, I felt at peace.

Life is short, be grateful. Don’t take your family and friends for granted. Cherish every moment you are in the company of your family. They have made unconditional sacrifices for your sake, never let them down.

Anonymous

28 years old

Ghor Province

MA in Talent Management

December 16, 2021

The office where I recently started working as an interpreter decided to evacuate its staff and their family members who were at risk. I asked my family to come from Herat to Kabul. It took them more than 24 hours to get to Kabul. On August 31, my family and I left Kabul for the Torkham border but when we arrived there, we were not allowed to cross the border because we still didn’t have any approval or necessary documents. We waited there for two days in a hotel close to the border. The Taliban entered the hotel and arrested our boss who was a British man. They also captured me and my brother from the hotel. It was a nightmare. The last thing I saw was my mother unconscious on the floor, my dad and sister crying out loud, my younger brother screaming. I was the main target because I was the interpreter for my company, but they kidnapped my brother as well. Unfortunately, all my educational, employment and other important documents/ my computer were with me as they brought me to the Taliban compound. The jail was very scary, dirty, and there was not enough food. We were in the Taliban jail for about a month. Finally my relatives, with the help of some elders of the tribe, managed to get me out. A week after I was released I was evacuated with other students to Islamabad and then Bishkek with the support of AUCA. It was very difficult to say goodbye to my family after all they went through. I will never forget that goodbye.

I tried my best to keep myself as strong as possible. It is going well now in Bishkek, I am pursuing my master degree which is one of my main goals. I am safe and healthier now.

I will always love my country. But what I went through will never be easy to forget. I hope one day to forget all these bad memories and experiences. I hope the world will not forget about Afghanistan. I hope my country will stand on its own feet one day. I want all Afghan women to stay strong and fight for their rights.

Meena Nickyar

21 years old

BA in Business Administration

American University of Afghanistan

Kabul Province

In the morning when I opened the window, I saw Taliban cars with white flags covering the streets and they were shooting and shouting “AL-fatah Mubarak,” which means “happy conquest.”

I can not describe how it feels to leave your homeland and your family behind. I started to think that I was being very selfish when I left all my loved ones when I knew they were in danger but I had to leave them because I know if I stayed I couldn’t do anything for them or myself. I had to leave to stay alive. We all left everything and took all our dreams and goals in a small backpack to Kyrgyzstan to start a new life here. We are going to study and will start a new life full of adventure. It’s true that we have everything in Kyrgyzstan but it will never be the same as our own country. I wish to go back to Afghanistan once I know I can live there like I was before 15th August of 2021.

Mustafa Sabri

21 years old

Kabul Province

BA in Business Administration

American University of Afghanistan

Iwas having discussions about the situation in Afghanistan with my father. I felt a very strange tone of voice as my father was speaking. I always had heard him being optimistic about the country and about the end of the war which would mean a stop to the death of thousands of Afghans. But in that last week, I could see that he was sensing another huge period of trouble and hardship for all the people in our country.

During that whole time, the question I was constantly asking was if AUAf was going to continue after the Taliban took power. Although I somehow knew the answer, I still needed others to tell me otherwise just to be able to console myself that our university would continue functioning and all our dreams wouldn’t be killed in a matter of a few weeks.

I had a goal to pursue a graduate degree in business outside Afghanistan. After the fall of Kabul, I not only needed to forget about that forever, but I also was trying to convince myself that even though the Taliban had taken our university’s campus, I could graduate online. As soon as I read the email about the plans of our university for student evacuations, a strange feeling came over me. It was between seeing myself as lucky to be able to pursue my education and my dreams, but also leaving my family and country behind.

As planned by my university, 8 classmates and I left together from my place at 6 a.m on that Saturday morning. As cars arrived to take us to the airport, I couldn’t help but go back to my mother just to hug her one last time. It was a quiet and breezy morning and only a few people could be seen far away from us which made my last hour in my town truly an unforgettable experience.

Nadia Arifi

28 years old

Kabul Province

MA in Talent Management

American University of Central Asia

The day Kabul fell, the first thought that came to my mind was “life is over”. All the education, all the efforts over the years were gone, especially for women. Previously, I never thought I would have to wear a burqa ever again.

Kyrgyzstan is a second home to me and moving to Kyrgyzstan was a joyful feeling. However, leaving everything behind made me realize that no matter what you have in life, the only main source you can carry is yourself. You have to take care of yourself first to be able to take care of others around you.

A lot of people were standing and waiting for hours and days to get through the border but we were one of the luckiest people who got through the border within a few hours. Some of the students had concerns regarding their families, some others were concerned with current economic situations since they were the only breadwinners of their families. I overheard one of the students in the group say, “I was the only one who worked and provided for the family, now that I am out, who will be there for them, who will take care of them?”

The first arrival to Bishkek was like being at home. When I saw the AUCA crew at the airport, waiting for us with the list in their hands and with the provided transportation and food, I was overwhelmed. I wish no one ever in their life will have to face the situation we did. We had our AUCA family but what if others have no one for their support?

Nilofar Painda

25 years old

BA in Human Rights

American University of Central Asia

Kabul Province

Iwent back to Afghanistan a few weeks before the fall of Kabul. I went for summer holidays and to see my family. It was Sunday morning and I arrived at my friend’s house at 10:00 a.m. I didn’t see anything on my way there because everything appeared to be normal. Around 11.30 a.m., we heard some firing sounds and saw many posts on social media reporting sightings of Taliban in various parts of Kabul. We canceled our plans to go outside and waited inside. We were getting a lot of calls from our university about upgrading our tickets so we could leave the country as soon as possible. By the time it was clear that the Taliban had taken control of the capital, Fly Dubai had notified us that flights would be canceled until October. I saw a lot of hopelessness in the eyes of my Afghan brothers and sisters. I’m at a loss for words when it comes to describing the emotions I had upon returning to Kyrgyzstan after the overland evacuation.

When we were in the car, we were discussing what we should say to the Taliban if they stopped us. One of my friends suggested we should pretend to be cousins, and we would ask the driver to impersonate our father or uncle, so the Taliban don’t think we’re students on our way to Islamabad. We were three girls in a vehicle, and we hid our laptops inside our clothes so they wouldn’t see them.

Even though we were sorry to leave our family behind, coming to Bishkek was an extremely pleasant feeling. In fact, we were happy that we came back to our university and now we can continue our education.

“The misery in war-torn Afghanistan is reminiscent of images from the Thirty Years’ War.” - Jurgen Habermas

Hassibullah Ranjbar

18 years old

New Generation Academy

American University of Central Asia Baghlan Province

Everything changed when AUCA sent me an email that they were evacuating their students by land from Afghanistan to Pakistan and then Bishkek. On one hand, I was thrilled because of the opportunity to study at AUCA but on the other, I was supposed to leave everything behind in Afghanistan. That feeling was the worst feeling I have ever had because I was thinking that whether I will see my family, my friends, or my loved ones again or not. My family was always an encouraging family and as they heard about this opportunity they told me that I should not miss it.

When I arrived in Bishkek I felt like I was safe and now I can live my life even better than before. I am studying in one of the best universities in the region. My only concern is my family living in Afghanistan under the government of the Taliban. I hope that one day I will have a country in which I can live without any fear and a country to which I can return and serve my people.

Maryam Ranjbar

25 years old Master of Law

American University of Central Asia

Baghlan Province

That morning everyone was frightened, and everyone was inside their homes. There was no longer hope for living in Afghanistan. At that point I was thinking, this will get worse and I will either be forced to get married to a Taliban or killed for the work I have done for international organizations and for holding a degree from AUCA.

I was not sure if applying to the AUCA MA program would help me get out of Afghanistan but I still applied. I didn’t know I would be evacuated and brought to Bishkek. I still can’t believe it happened. When I think about everything, it just seems like a dream. I still can’t believe I am out of Afghanistan, alive and safe.

Sahiba Mehry

21 years

old

BA in Software Engineering

American University of Afghanistan

Kabul Province

Iwas in my own world, positive and hopeful. Suddenly, I heard the sounds of shops closing, chaos in our street and people moving faster and faster to get to their houses by foot, car or whatever. It was not that scary until I saw a car crossing the street with a man carrying the white flag of Taliban and yelling “AL-fatah Mubarak.” That was the first time I saw Talib from a short distance. I was looking from the window and I worried that if they saw me looking at them from the window they might shoot me. I was frozen. I saw a scared young woman who was trying to hide her whole body and hair with a small scarf. That was the time I realized women won’t be happy anymore, everything is finished. I can’t believe it’s now all in the past and I am safe and studying.

Abdul Salam Faiq

22 years old BA in IT and computer science

American University of Afghanistan

Herat

Province

Iwas in Kabul going to the office to work on developing new software that aimed to help students prepare for the university entrance exam. The day when Kabul fell, I was thinking of all the plans that I had. I was trying to stay positive and come up with a solution, but people were sharing disturbing news on social media.

The evacuation news made us hopeful. When I talked to my family, they were happy that I could leave and finish my studies. My father and mother are in Herat, and I was in Kabul, so I got used to saying goodbye to them. But this one was tough because I knew that I would not see them in a very long time.

It was indeed challenging when I first arrived in Bishkek. This was not something that we were ready for. But I was trying to look at the bright side of it. Thinking of it as a new experience made me look forward to it. The journey was pretty good. I had a good time with my friends and classmates. We were all planning on what to do in Bishkek and making the most out of it. I am looking forward to opportunities coming around, and I am trying to get back on track on the things that got delayed due to events back in the country.

Sayed Anwar Ibrahimi

22 years old

BA in Software Engineering

American University of Afghanistan

Ghazni Province

Life was quite normal. I used to go to my office at Shahr-e-Naw. After I finished my work, my friends and I would go to a lovely, cozy restaurant for dinner and to catch up on the events of the day. When we arrived home at the end of the day, there were delights and smiles in the families. However, everything changed on August 15th, a bright Sunday, when my office supervisor advised me to leave the workplace immediately and go home as quickly as possible. When I got out of the office, people were rushing, frantically walking, and sobbing on the streets. That is when I asked a concerned lady what had occurred, she said, «Taliban entered Kabul». My head was filled with negative ideas, such as whether I would be able to return home alive, what would happen to my family at home if I was not there, and whether they would resume killing people like they had done in the past. When I returned home, I found my family unharmed and felt good. Later that night. Taliban were strolling around in groups, shooting weapons for no apparent purpose, and proclaiming that they had won. At the time, I assumed there was no longer an AUAF and that I would not be able to continue my education. The prospect of not being able to go to work was also very depressing. They were everywhere the next day, forcing their way into every government agency. On August 16th, we received an email from the AUAF president regarding the evacuation of Afghan students to other countries. I told my family about the evacuation plan but they were quite upset and told me right away that I was not permitted to go anywhere on my own. They eventually granted me permission to say yes to the evacuation after witnessing the situation in Kabul and seeing the inhumane treatment of the Taliban. It was very difficult for me to say goodbye to my family.

At first, the journey looked terrifying and tough, but it was actually fairly easy and there were no complications. The majority of the students were relieved to be safe. Some, on the other hand, were already missing their family and friends. After a week, we were evacuated from Islamabad to Bishkek. I felt very distant from home the day I arrived in Bishkek. Everything was so different than it was in Afghanistan. The environment and language were completely foreign to me. We had a number of issues, including difficulty purchasing food, shopping, and placing various internet orders. However, now that we are familiar with the system, things have become quite simple for us.

Ahmad Seyar Daqiq

20 years old

BA in Software Engineering

American University of Afghanistan

Mazar-e-sharif Province

Ihad been conducting programs that aimed to reach youth, and females especially, because they are the most vulnerable people in Afghanistan. I was a member of AIESEC (Association Internationale des Étudiants en Sciences Économiques et Commerciales) and G+ (Generation positive) and the main organizer for the TEDxMazar team. Through these programs I was able to help my community to the best of my abilities. After graduating from high school, I was admitted to AUAF. I was staying in my uncle’s house in Kabul because Mazar-e-Sharif had already fallen. When Kabul fell, my dreams were shattered. I had no future and no education. I was threatened with death because of my beliefs about a free nation.

When I got a Pakistani visa for evacuation, I had mixed feelings. Being free of extremism and continuing my education sparked hope in me but the feeling of leaving every dream I had for my country broke my heart. Together we made memories like no other. So many conversations were exchanged between us as a way of ignoring the fact that we might not be able to return to our motherland again.

I will be more than happy to return to my country and serve my people. However, if Islamic misinterpreted extremism remains present in my country, it will be hard to return due to the hardships we all faced.

Habibullah Sahak

21 years old

BA in Political Science (Peace & Transitional Justice)

American University of Afghanistan

Kabul Province

Hours were not passing. Saturday the 14th of August was like a year. Sunday started and Kabul fell once again. I was downtown; people were shocked that everyone was running as if zombies were arriving in the city. I rushed home. I was in total shock.

I was not ready to leave my family, friends, people, and country to save my life and pursue my education and career. My family wanted me to go safely, but they hardly controlled their emotions. Those moments were the most challenging moments of my life. Those vibes are unforgettable. Just God knows what’s going on inside my heart while writing this… my friends were in despair; they lost everything, including their families, their businesses and everything else.

It is going well in Bishkek. I want to say thank you to Kyrgyzstan, AUCA, Jonathan Becker and the evacuation team. They were the big game players; I am impressed by their tenacity and commitment.

My friends and colleagues are still surviving in Afghanistan. If there is any possibility, I hope AUCA will do their best to help other AUAF students as well. Thank you for everything.

Mohammad Navid Zafari

21 years old BA in Business Administration

American University of Afghanistan Ghazni Province

Igot a call which told me not to leave home because Taliban forces had entered Kabul city. My very first thought was that I was stuck a day after booking tickets to leave Afghanistan because of the situation and threats. I felt like everything came to an end; my future, education, dreams and goals. I heard about the evacuation plan soon after the fall and my family encouraged me to leave and save my life. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life to leave my family in that situation.

My journey was quite good. I knew some of the evacuees from AUAF, and I was happy to meet lots of great people during the journey. I never felt like I had no one. We went to visit places in Islamabad and Bishkek together. I remember the words from one of my friends saying, “We should be happy that we have our friends around and that is a blessing. Enjoy the moments with the people around you”.

I want to thank the evacuation team who worked so hard day and night to make the evacuation possible and create a way out for the students. And a special thanks to AUAF for not leaving their students and standing on the words of making tomorrow’s future leaders. I pray for my country and my people to have the life they deserve.

The Evacuation Team

Jonathan Becker

Interim President of AUCA

Vice Chancellor of OSUN

Vice President for Academic Affairs, Bard College

Ihave worked with Afghan students for many years at AUCA, where I am a board member and Interim president, a position I also held in 2018-19. Afghan students are also active participants in civic engagement activities within Bard’s undergraduate liberal arts network, and many AUCA and AUAF students have enrolled in OSUN online courses that I co-taught last spring and summer.

My involvement with planning for new support for Afghan students began in June 2021, even before it was clear that an evacuation might be needed. The US had reaffirmed its plans to leave Afghanistan in April. While there was a general belief that there would be a difficult post-US transition, the view expressed by many “experts” was that the government could hold out at least a half year, and likely longer. At that time, I approached Alex Soros and other leaders in OSUN about setting up a scholarship program to welcome back Afghan graduates of AUCA BA programs into its MA programs. Alex responded positively and almost immediately. We set up an Afghan response team at AUCA consisting of such major offices as International Affairs, Alumni Affairs, and Academic Affairs, to be responsible for outreach and planning, and brought in staff at Bard College to help with logistics.

We were moving ahead with advertising graduate programs for alumni of AUCA in early July, when events in Afghanistan accelerated. I taught an OSUN summer course on civic engagement which had a number of Afghan students enrolled, and they reported on Taliban advances, including attacks on their homes and those of friends and loved ones. A journalist friend with great experience in the region, George Packer, warned me that time was shorter than estimated (although even he was ultimately surprised by the speed of the Taliban takeover). He advised me to read Thurston Clarke’s book, Honorable Exit, about the end of the Vietnam war, which focused on efforts by Americans to evacuate Vietnamese friends and colleagues in the weeks and months leading up to the US exit from the country.

Clarke’s book vividly demonstrates the most important lesson that shaped our approach to assisting Afghan students throughout: determined people have the capacity to influence outcomes. In a class on civic engagement taken by many Afghans, we teach that individuals have agency; they are not simply beholden to forces beyond their control. More specifically, Clarke demonstrated that in chaotic moments such as military retreat, you cannot rely on governments, particularly senior officials, who have their own priorities. Instead, you must take control of your own fate and that of others about whom you care. This might mean working with mid-level government officials willing to ignore their superiors, as Clarke wrote, or civil society networks, as we discussed in my Civic Engagement class. Clarke made clear that in order to succeed in such chaotic times, you need to be prepared to improvise, take risks, and refuse to be deterred by authoritative voices telling you something is impossible, because passivity leads to failure. You need to try multiple approaches and be willing to take steps without knowing for certain what comes next. Moreover, you cannot not be deterred by failure. Clarke offers a sober reminder of what was at stake by tracking the lives of those who were evacuated and those who were not. Sadly, we had a glimpse of this a year earlier, in the summer of 2020, when AUCA graduate Fatime (Natasaha) Khalil was murdered in Kabul while she was working for the Afghan Human Rights Commission.

In early August, as the Taliban swept across the country, we were acutely aware that if they took power it would have tremendous negative consequences for the well-being of our graduates and the educational futures of all Afghans, especially women, who constituted a majority of our students. The first several weeks of our work, from mid-August to early September, were largely unsuccessful. Not only had we been unable to get our graduates out of the country, but some of our undergraduates who had yet to leave Kabul had flights canceled and were now stuck incountry. Twice in the waning days of the American presence we and our partner, the American University of Afghanistan (AUAF), had students on buses ready to go to the airport, but both times we could not get permission from senior US authorities to gain entry, so both trips were abandoned. When the Pentagon announced that the last US troops had departed Afghanistan, we had not evacuated a single student. It was extremely disheartening. We had spent two and a half weeks with little sleep, contacting government officials who were unable or unwilling to offer assistance, trying to procure access to buses and airplanes at usurious rates from merchants, and exploring details of various border crossings.

Following the departure of the US, we adjusted our approach. Instead of seeking flights of large numbers of students from Kabul, we shifted to a piecemeal overland strategy to get students across the Torkham border into Pakistan, where the Pakistani government allowed students with legitimate educational plans to cross. To do this successfully, we needed several things: a letter from the Pakistani Ministry of Foreign Affairs providing students the right of passage, ground transportation to the border and then to Islamabad, accurate communication with students to organize groups and meet-up points, and visas to get students from Pakistan to Kyrgyzstan. Nothing was easy, but we solved each issue as it arose. OSF’s inimitable Omar Waraich, the chief architect of the strategy, opened up communications with the Pakistani foreign ministry, where a kind mid-level official issued approved lists to allow students to enter the country. A Finnish security firm, which was recommended by OSF, arranged ground transport that could navigate around and through Taliban checkpoints. Bryan Billings from Bard College became the master of maintaining accurate lists of students and coordinated between the security firm, Omar, AUCA, and me. AUCA’s International Office, led by the tireless Aselia Umetalieva, kept in close contact with students to arrange the difficult and ever-changing tasks of coordinating departures and meet-up points, aided extensively by Zarlasht Sarmast, an OSUN Civic Engagement Global Fellows Program Coordinator, who is Afghan and who knows Kabul. Chingiz Shamshiev from AUCA worked with the Kyrgyz Foreign Ministry, which had taken the bold step of opening up 500 student visas for Afghan students, to secure visas for students.

To get students to safety in Kyrgyzstan, each one of these steps needed to succeed, and for each of these major steps there were hundreds of other things that had to occur. But the plan worked. In groups of 9 to 18, divided into cars of 4 and 5 people, we were able to get students from Kabul across the border and into Pakistan. In all, we ran ten cross-border runs over a twelve-day period, of which nine were successful.

OSUN was created with the belief that a network of institutions cooperating with each other can generate resilience, and that is what we witnessed. Every day and night we had a team consisting of people from AUCA in Bishkek, Bard College in New York, OSF in Amman, and the security firm in Helsinki, who were spread between Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Finland, working together and coordinating with student leaders on the ground. We were at times joined by representatives of AUAF, who were spread across the globe at Bard College Berlin and OSUN’s Refugee Higher Education Access Program. And for each person I named above from these institutions, there were many others who helped along the way, particularly from AUCA and OSF.

It was not easy. Many of us had little sleep for weeks on end. Sometimes we could not secure them visas and students, faced with the difficult choice of leaving friends and family behind, backed out at the last minute. Some students failed Covid tests and were forced into quarantine in Pakistan. On the third trip, a large group of 17 was turned back at the border and some students were beaten by the Taliban. The entire group had to return to Kabul and we debated giving up the land route, but decided to try again a few days later with a small group and succeeded.

After the land border became too difficult, we were able, through Omar again, to work out

an arrangement with Pakistan International Airlines to secure visas and flights for groups of students to Islamabad. But this involved getting visas from the Pakistani embassy in Kabul, which was extremely challenging. Perhaps the lowest point of the entire endeavor occurred on our first attempt to get visas at the embassy. A student volunteer, who was carrying passports of around 20 students, had been confronted by a Taliban guard and suddenly fell silent. We feared that if those passports were confiscated, we would have lost their opportunity to leave and would be responsible for their fate under the Taliban. Fortunately, although it turned out the student had been struck by the guard, he had not been injured or detained and with the help of AUAF transporting students to the airport, we were able to evacuate an additional 63 students on three flights.

Getting students out of Afghanistan to Pakistan was the most important part of the journey. But we still needed to get students to Bishkek. We struggled to find flights out of Pakistan, which were almost entirely booked. Yasin Yaqubie from OSF spent days negotiating a special charter to fly our students from Islamabad to Bishkek even while we were still evacuating others. Then, as if the Red Sea were parting, we discovered a series of charter flights along the same route that were primarily taking Pakistani medical students to study in Kyrgyzstan, and we were able to secure seats for our students. Having secured student visas, the students could finally proceed to Bishkek to re-start their education as we had hoped when we began our efforts in June.

Looking back, perhaps my most vivid memory was of one night towards the end of our overland efforts, when a group of 18 students was delayed at the border for many hours. They could not get across and there were reports of shooting in the area. I was on my back porch the entire night, talking and texting with colleagues who were based in six countries, reaching out to Pakistani officials, trying to calm students, and deciding whether or not to abandon the mission. The relief and emotions I felt when they crossed was comparable to two other pivotal moments: when our first group of students made it into Pakistan, and when the first plane of students arrived in Kyrgyzstan. My feelings were shaped by the painful failures that had taken place in the first weeks of our efforts and by the knowledge of how important these efforts were to the students’ futures. In addition, there is a transcendent feeling of grace that comes from being part of a team whose members are willing to give of themselves so absolutely and selflessly. More than once I found myself wiping away tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the work and the gratitude I felt for my colleagues’ efforts.

In October, I flew to Bishkek and met with many of the evacuated students in person. Some I had known from the online classes I had taught, or from civic engagement conferences and workshops I had participated in, and some I only knew from texts and lists of names. It was incredibly gratifying to see their faces and hear their stories. One student in particular was held by the Taliban for a few weeks after she had attempted to cross at Torkham with a British group. Seeing her there with her sister, with whom I had been in touch throughout her travails, was otherworldly. This joy, however, was tempered by the knowledge that while we were able to get out almost all students who joined our evacuation efforts, many of our alumni did not make it out due to family concerns. The fact that there are also many students who still have family and loved ones suffering in Afghanistan is also sobering.

In all, we evacuated 177 students from Afghanistan in nine overland trips and three flights. Many were AUCA students and alumni, others AUAF students who wanted to complete their education, and still others from partner institutions, like the American University in Beirut. Nearly all of them, and several additional students who found themselves in third countries, went to Bishkek to continue their studies. Their journey is not over. We are now working through OSUN and foundations and universities in the US and Europe to secure the longer-term future for the students until a time comes when they can return home. But for now, we can celebrate that they are safe and that we were able to accomplish what we set out to do.

Aselya Umetalieva

Director of International Students

AUCA

As Director of the International Student Office at AUCA, I develop and manage international student programs and support services for a diverse group of students. Our students are bright and openminded young people who make the university community more special and unique.

AUCA is an educational institution that welcomes students from many parts of the world but the majority of international students at AUCA come from Afghanistan. There is an AUCA team that supports Afghan students with whom I am working on a daily basis. The mission of this team is to provide on-site support on many aspects such as living, adapting as well as guiding and legal assistance to help them integrate into the new academic and cultural community. It is more important than ever for Afghan students to feel the support of the community and have them know there are people who care and stand for them.

Human abilities are endless and we keep growing with the new challenges and experiences we are given throughout our life. This is exactly what I can tell about the evacuation mission conducted successfully by AUCA and Bard College with the support of international donors and partners. It was a professional task but it also carried a human sensibility for me personally to be a part of this process.

Our aim was to not only help people to get an education but also protect youth so they might have a better future. That was the main reason we stayed so strongly connected with each other and focused all our efforts on achieving this goal. Despite the difficulties and sometimes disappointments the team had to face, we always believed there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The tireless work and daily support of the evacuation team as well as the patience of students and their responsible attitude and awareness all contributed to the evacuation’s success. It was a huge accomplishment to get permission to evacuate students to Islamabad and ensure their arrival in Bishkek. Many thanks to the AUCA administration led by Interim President Jonathan Becker and Vice President/COO Chingiz Shamshiev who made this possible.

There were days and nights we stayed on calls and email, communicating at length with students who shared heartbreaking and sad stories. We wanted to help everyone but the resources were not unlimited and that was the time that made us weak sometimes.

The lack of sleep and intense workload we experienced was stressful but our belief in the missions was stronger and that made us all keep working until we finally had students out of Afghanistan. Some of the evacuees were happy they made it and some were upset they left their loved ones. The great outcome of this experience is that more than 185 evacuees successfully crossed the border and made it to Bishkek safely. It is essential to mention that there were other groups of students who had been evacuated to other OSUN network institutions– Bard College in the US and Bard College Berlin. The logistics of the evacuation process was managed professionally by our colleague at Bard College, Bryan Billings, who worked incessantly with all the institutions involved to ensure that all proceedings go smoothly and accurately.

There were several groups of students who were welcomed to AUCA: Afghan Alumni, AUAF exchange students and other individuals who decided to choose AUCA as a destination to study and continue their education. Each group needed special attention and support. The AUCA Afghan response team provided all the resources they needed – arrival orientation, academic advising, mentorship, counseling service, cultural activities and most importantly, financial aid for accommodations and assistance for the whole time they would be studying at AUCA and living in Bishkek.

Viktor Frankl wrote that “Everything in life boils down to making choices and every choice we make makes our life.” I believe our students who have experienced these difficult, life-changing situations, are very strong people who can now build their own bright future.

Omar Waraich

South Asia Advocacy Advisor at Open Society Foundations

Ivividly recall my first conversation with Jonathan Becker, last September. I had been playing a small role alongside many dedicated colleagues as they worked tirelessly to evacuate our incredibly brave colleagues from Afghanistan. By the time Jonathan and I spoke, the last military aircraft had left, and Kabul airport was now closed. A few private flights managed to slip out of another airport in the western city of Mazar-e-Sharif before it, too, was shut down for several weeks. In a moment when people desperately needed to get out, the paths out of Afghanistan were being choked off one by one.

There were just two options left, both by road and neither of them easy: Iran to the south, or Pakistan to the east. Pakistan has an appalling record on human rights, and its involvement in Afghanistan has been deeply controversial because of its backing of the Taliban. But one thing it has notably done, for more than four decades, was host millions of Afghan refugees. I had been exploring the Pakistan option as a contingency in case our colleagues weren’t able to leave Afghanistan while flights were still taking off from Kabul. Now, I suggested the option to Jonathan, who patiently indulged me. “I’ve spoken to the Pakistani foreign ministry, and they said we can get transit visas for the students. It should be a straightforward journey by road,” I said. “It would take four hours to reach the Pakistan border from Kabul, then immigration checks at the border, and then a shortish drive onwards to Islamabad, the Pakistani capital.”

I don’t think I realized just how fraught each element of the journey would be. When I first contacted the Pakistani Foreign Ministry, the official I spoke to sounded keen to help. He said the Foreign Minister was onboard, too. I thought it would be easy. I sent him a list with all the details he had asked for but I heard nothing back. I tried calling and messaging, but there was silence. After feverishly casting around the ministry, being diverted from official to official, I eventually reached “Mr. S”, the director of the crisis cell. It was the only time we ever spoke. In a call that barely lasted three minutes, he explained what details I needed to provide him, then hung up.

Next, we needed to find a way to get the students to the border and across. They couldn’t just flag a cab or hop on a bus. The Taliban had set up checkpoints across the country. They were discouraging Afghans from leaving. There were fears that they could stop the cars, turn them back, or worse. A senior colleague at Open Society came up with a solution. She introduced everyone to a security firm that was not only working in Afghanistan but had partners in Pakistan and could fill many of the other gaps – booking hotels and arranging airport transfers.

There was one catch. To be safe, the security company could only ferry a dozen or so students each day. The students would have to volunteer, braving a journey that they were unfamiliar with. Unlike earlier generations of Afghans, they had no experience of being displaced. Up to this point, their lives had mirrored the growth of an Afghan democracy, albeit one that was deeply flawed. They lived in a city that was deeply scarred by the war of the past two decades, during which the Taliban launched horrific terrorist attacks on schools, markets, hotels, hospitals and even their own university. But they had also enjoyed key freedoms, like the right to move freely and to learn, that were now snatched away – particularly for women and girls.

Jonathan, Bryan, Aselya and I now had an established ritual. Every night, I would receive a letter detailing the names and passport numbers of each of the dozen or so students ready to go. The next morning, I would dispatch it via WhatsApp, with a plaintive note to “Mr. S.” I would then wait. Mr. S. would never acknowledge my messages. I worried that he’d changed his mind. Then, a few hours later, he wordlessly dropped a PDF with the visa letters into the chat. We went through the same routine every day, for several weeks. Sometimes, the replies

came back within an hour or two. Other times, it took much longer. My blood pressure would heighten around 6pm Pakistan time, when I feared Mr. S had clocked off. But he delivered. Each time the visas landed on my phone, I felt a rush of childlike excitement.

What we couldn’t control, however, was the border itself. On the third day, there was a frantic rush, as thousands tried to get across. The Taliban unleashed their fury, beating people away. Some students were hit, too. I can’t even begin to imagine the fear they must have felt, or the bravery they were forced to summon. When I was their age, the only difficulty I ever faced getting to university was a subway strike, or a snowstorm. These students had just a few hours to grab whatever possessions could fit into a small bag, bid farewell to their families and the only lives they had known, and set off on a journey without knowing if they’ll ever return.

The cars would set off in the early morning, Kabul time. I live in Amman, Jordan, a couple time zones away. I used to wake up at around six each morning and ask Bryan where the students had gotten to. Bryan was up through the night, it seemed. Jonathan used to sleep with his earphones on just in case he missed an important call. We all got used to calling each other spontaneously, without any consideration for what time it was. There were conversations that took place at 4am, both New York time and Amman time. I remember hearing the crickets chirping in the background when Jonathan was out on his porch.

When the cars approached the border, we braced ourselves. There were days when the students slipped through within minutes, and everyone could try and get a few hours’ break. But then there was one unforgettable day when the students were stuck at the border for 15 hours. A few convoys were stopped at every one of the four hurdles they had to cross, including a rapid covid test, which a few students tested positive for and were stranded in a grim local hospital for a week. The students were also stopped by immigration, or the military, or by border police. On some days, presented with valid documents, the authorities refused to accept them, handing back the students’ passports. I would frantically call officials at these moments, including Mr. S, pleading for them to get through, while the security firm engaged in negotiations.

All of the students did eventually get through, but that was never guaranteed. Each crossing was a victory, and each morning we were confronted with a fresh set of challenges. What worked yesterday wasn’t going to work tomorrow. It felt like running across a bridge that was collapsing behind us. At one point, the border crossings stopped. The Taliban and the Pakistani government had a row. Luckily, by this time, Pakistan International Airlines (PIA) resumed flights from Kabul to Islamabad, for a steep fee. A ticket for the hour-long journey cost as much as a flight to London. We still needed visas, and the PDFs transmitted by WhatsApp wouldn’t do – the Taliban demanded to see stamped visas in valid passports.

The most terrifying moment for me came when we had designated a student to go to the Pakistan Embassy in Kabul to get the passports stamped with visas. I had no direct contact with the embassy. I was relying on an official in Islamabad to relay messages. When the student got to the gate, he was denied entry by an armed Talib. At one point, I could hear them shouting each other over the phone. Then the line went dead. I feared something terrible had happened. I called Bryan and told him I couldn’t do this anymore. It was too hard. Mercifully, the student resurfaced, and he got the passports back –complete with stamped visas – the next day.

After that scare, we decided against sending students to the embassy again. It was too complicated, and too risky. PIA offered to get the visas done for us. Like everything else, this wasn’t as smooth a process as it first seemed. Two students turned up early in the day, but there was no one to help them. Then we got a message asking that all 50 students wanting to fly had to deposit their passports, with completed visa forms, within a couple hours. I don’t know how Aselya and Bryan pulled it off, but they all somehow got there on time.

The next day, Jonathan called me to ask where the passports were, if they had gotten visas, and when the students could get them back. I had no answers for him. We both knew that in this crisis the possession of a valid passport was the difference between being able to get out of the country or being left stranded indefinitely. By now, I had gotten to know many of the PIA officials involved, in Kabul and in Karachi, but none of them were answering their phones. Eventually, the manager in Karachi called back. “The Taliban have detained our guy and are interrogating him about why he’s getting visas for Afghans,” he said. I kept this piece of news to myself. Later that night, the PIA official in Kabul sent me a voice note on WhatsApp: “Every passport I took with me now has a visa. You can collect them tomorrow.”

Everyone will recall the harrowing scenes at Kabul airport, where people desperately clung on to military planes as they took off, some plunging to their deaths. There had been crowds massed in the thousands outside, all hoping for a chance to board a flight. A day before the evacuations ended in August, an ISIS suicide bomber had killed more than 180 people at one of the gates. It would not be easy returning to the airport for the students, especially now, when there was no international presence, and the Taliban were in full control.

It seemed advisable to try with a few students at first. I remember exchanging messages with Aselya in Bishkek on those days. The first group, it turns out, were bumped up to first class – not that it makes much of a difference on a 45-minute flight on PIA. The greatest moment of joy I experienced in those days was when Aselya messaged to let me know that the second group, all 50 or so students, had boarded. Around the same time, we found solutions for the students now growing restless in Islamabad. There were no direct commercial flights from Islamabad to Bishkek. One night, though, when I was idly browsing the “Flight Radar”, I spotted a plane making that journey. It belonged to a small Pakistani airline and, it turned out, was flying Pakistani medical students to Kyrgyzstan for a modest fare. They had spare seats.

What Bard and the American University of Central Asia achieved was remarkable. During my university life, I had a pretty cynical view of university administrators. What Jonathan, Bryan and Aselya revealed, however, was a dedication to the welfare of students that cannot be adequately acknowledged. They recalled Bard’s finest traditions, opening its doors to scholars fleeing persecution at other points in history, whether it was during the Second World War, or in the wake of the Soviet invasion of Hungary.

I was relatively new at Open Society when these evacuations began, having joined just a few months earlier. What I discovered was a group of colleagues unrivaled in their commitment to the people of Afghanistan, coming together to overcome every challenge, finding answers in the unlikeliest of places, taking every setback in stride, and persevering to the end. They were involved in supporting the people of Myanmar earlier in this way and are expending effort supporting people in Ukraine now. It’s an honor to work with them.

There are far too many of them to mention, but I do want to note one: Yasin Yaqubie. For all those weeks, Yasin was a rock. He was central to the Open Society evacuations, supporting other organizations trying to help people out. He was indefatigable. I would call Yasin at least twice a day, and he would patiently talk me through everything: helping think through problems, devising innovative solutions, listening as I complained about something or other that went wrong that day. I’m incredibly grateful to him.

Most of all, I think of the students. I was only at a distance from them through all of this. Meanwhile, Aselya, Bryan and Jonathan were in touch with them every day, offering them whatever assurances they could. Most of us have gone through our lives taking so much for granted, never having to worry that it could all be overturned one day, that the dreams we chased up to that point could suddenly vanish. No one should have to go through what they did. These students are the real heroes of this story, and I hope they will now have a chance to build the futures they each deserve.

Bryan Billings

Director of Global Outreach Center for Civic Engagement Bard College

Inthe summer of 2021 Jonathan Becker asked me to work on a program to help relocate Afghans ahead of the US withdrawal from Afghanistan. As time passed and there were minimal updates on the project, I assumed my assistance was not needed. Then very quickly the whole situation changed; the last two weeks of August became one of the most challenging periods in my life. Stress levels went through the roof as we worked with colleagues at AUCA, AUAF, OSF, Bard College Berlin and the US State Department round the clock to try and get as many students as possible on flights out of Afghanistan. There were moments of elation, when we thought we had secured passage, and deep despair as time ran out and we were not able to help anyone leave. I cannot imagine how difficult this must have been for students, who on multiple occasions said goodbye to parents, spouses and children, but then wound up having to remain in Afghanistan facing an uncertain future as the final US troops withdrew.

After several other options were explored and dismissed, the decision was made to attempt an overland evacuation in small groups. , Some experts on the region (which I am not) were skeptical, but Finnish colleagues from FRF International assured me, after conducting reconnaissance on the ground, that the route was possible, as long as we had the necessary gate passes from the Pakistani authorities (which magically materialized thanks to Omar Waraich). As I reached out to the first group of students to suggest the overland route, I was filled with trepidation. Were we putting lives in danger? Was it worth the risk? To my surprise all were ready to attempt the crossing.

The students showed astounding fortitude, leaving under the cover of night, crossing a chaotic border on their own with little knowledge of what lay ahead. There was incredible support for one another during the journey, even though they were often strangers until they gathered to leave for the border. Words can not describe the fear, frustration, and helplessness I felt as students contacted me in New York when things didn’t go as planned. But with the unwavering commitment of our team, the resourcefulness of the students themselves, the wonders of digital communication, and incredible good fortune, in the end everyone crossed and eventually made it to Islamabad. Nine students were forced to quarantine in a local hospital, where conditions were extremely challenging but even these students persevered through this difficult setback.

The overland evacuation was physically and emotionally draining for all involved, but it allowed 114 students to cross into Pakistan at a time when it was unclear what each day would bring. As Pakistan International Airlines began operating flights we decided to take the risk and attempt flying students to Pakistan. While booking flights and getting to the airport may sound much simpler than negotiating Taliban checkpoints on the road to Torkham, the process was far from simple or easy, and it was only thanks to the dedication and quick thinking actions of the evacuation team and students that so many were able to fly to Islamabad. The night 52 students converged at the PIA office to apply for Pakistani visas were one of the most stressful of the entire operation.

Meeting students’ needs while they were in Islamabad was a further challenge, and a debt of

gratitude is owed to Ehsan Achakzai, an Islamabad local who volunteered to work with students as they awaited Kyrgyz visas and flights to Bishkek. Not only did he meet with students and work with those in quarantine in Landi Kotal, he helped students buy warm clothing, get PCR tests and Covid vaccines. Without his help it is doubtful we would have been able to fly 29 students to Bishkek in early October, after rules were suddenly changed to require not only PCR tests for travel, but also full Covid-19 vaccination (the team in Bishkek scrambled to gather copies of vaccination cards and determine which ones were acceptable).

It is hard for me to remember any feelings of joy when students first arrived in Islamabad or Bishkek, as I was so wrapped up with the students who were yet to make the journey. There are still many AUCA and AUAF students and family members in Afghanistan; there is much work left to be done. I remember team-members in Bishkek and I being very excited the first time all students were contacted in August to let them know they would be evacuated and how low I felt when it did not happen. I also remember feeling very relieved when one student was finally issued a Kyrgyz visa and left Pakistan on the final day she was legally allowed to be in the country (after waiting there for 30 days). How was it possible that both a visa and flight came about for her at the very last moment?

The process was traumatic. For six weeks there was constant stress, countless obstacles and challenges, fear and danger, emotional outbursts and little if any time to sleep, eat, bathe or change clothes. It is hard for me to think back and relive the experience, but what immediately comes to mind is: six weeks of extreme exhaustion; insistent and rapid-fire dinging of my cell phone; adrenaline rushes, pulsing nerves, sweat and the stench of my body; the fearlessness of the students; the commitment and self-sacrifice of our team, ready to help as many students as possible; and the ever changing variations and iterations of lists of students.

The fact that so many students were able to arrive in Islamabad and that there were no serious incidents is truly astounding. There were so many unknowns and uncertainties but somehow all of the pieces came together.

I have incredible admiration for all those who worked to help bring the students to safety. My sincerest gratitude to Aselia Umetalieva, Zarlasht Sarmast, Omar Waraich, Ilari Könönen, Asel Sydykbaeva, Indira Sagynova, Ilias Sulvanov, Abdul Walid Azizi, Zhamilia Irsalieva, Aizhamal Dzhanibekova, Umut Kydyrgychova, Tatiana Orlova, Florian Becker, Bendetta Roux, Stephanie Hausotter, Marion Detjen, Arni Arnthorsson, Colman Joyce, Matt Trevithick, Ian Bickford, David Sedney, Chingiz Shamshiev, Nurgul Ukueva, Jonathan Becker and all of the others who made it possible (some of whom are still in Afghanistan).

Zarlasht Sarmast

OSUN Global Engagement Fellows Program

Coordinator

My name is Zarlasht Sarmast. I work as a program coordinator for the OSUN Global Engagement Fellows Program

I don’t really remember much about how it all started. It was chaotic. I remember exactly a night before Kabul fell. I had a phone call with the head of the Crisis Rescue Unit (CRU) Mr. Stanikzai. I knew him because when I was in Kabul, my sister and I were doing the research for a documentary on CRU for Netflix. They were well aware of the situation, the deals and everything that was happening. It was early in the morning of the day when Kabul fell, I went outside for a walk and to get a coffee, I called Mr. Stanikzai and asked “Stanikzai sahib, senga ye? Halat Senga da, Hamkaran sha de?” (How are you, how are your colleagues? What’s the situation like?) He told me it’s all gonna be over tomorrow, we talked for about an hour. His voice was very heavy, as if he was controlling himself to not cry. I couldn’t stand anymore after the call was over. I sat down on a bench. I went to Instagram and my sister posted a video of the Afghanistan National Army, a group of them walking away from the battlefield without their guns, their guns were in the hands of the Taliban. Somehow, I was still able to hold it all in. I remember, even during those days, I had a feeling thinking Kabul will not fall, everything will be okay and I can go back soon and see my family. I would Zoom with my family every night and speak with them. That night when the Taliban arrived at the entrances of Kabul, I saw the news. I made a zoom like every day and sent it to my sister so they could get online and we could talk, they got online and we started our daily “Family time”. We usually started that by taking a few deep breaths and we all started talking about our days because we have been living in different countries for work and education. That night, the feeling of “everything will be fine” was gone in all of us. I think that is what was going on in every house in Afghanistan that night. The next day Ashraf Ghani left the country along with his assistants and other close allies. The country turned into a total mess, the situation at the airport was the same as what happened in the last days of the Vietnam War. The pictures and videos were just like the scenes in Saigon and maybe even worse than that. By August 30th, all forces of the United States Government as well as other countries’ military forces were out of Afghanistan and Taliban took complete power and freed all their prisoners right away.

Dr. Jonathan Becker was the one who first proposed the idea of doing something and doing it immediately. I remember before the whole country fell I was added on a Zoom call on Google Calendar. The call was with the AUCA president Dr. Jonathan Becker, development office at AUCA, International Students office, Finance office and a few others. During the call the discussion was about getting the AUCA students and AUAF students out of Afghanistan as soon as possible. I was so hopeless those days that I honestly didn’t believe we would be able to do anything for anyone.

I think the commitment of our team, a month with very little sleep, putting this mission as our top priority, the bravery of all students the help from governmental sectors like the Ministry of Forgeing Affairs of Kyrgyzstan, our resilience and the generous financial support of the OSF and OSUN made this evacuation possible.

My worst memory from the evacuations was when I got a call from one of the students saying the Taliban had started whipping and beating the students and others at the border. They sent me some photos and videos. I couldn’t watch it. I just deleted the photos and videos on the spot and put my phone away and got

out of my apartment. Our students in that group couldn’t cross the border that day. They all went back to their homes hopeless. Some of them had come to Kabul from provinces. For them it meant going back to their provinces for a couple of days at least. That was the moment I was feeling very down and out of energy.

The happiest moments were when the first group of our students crossed the border and made it to Pakistan. We thought “We did it and we can get all the students out now”. The second happiest moment was when the first group of students arrived in Bishkek and were picked up at the airport by our colleagues from the International Students Office.

Now that our students have made it out of the country, we need to make sure we can help them in the next steps as well. There is no way they can go back to Afghanistan. At least not now. There is a lot of need for finding funding resources and making sure the students are getting the support they need in securing further fully funded academic programs or finding jobs. We hope you join us in this important mission.

If I could describe my experience throughout the evacuation process in one sentence I would say it was a very long, scary, exhausting yet exciting roller coaster ride.

At the end, I want to dedicate a poem by Mario Benedetti to all the people who made this mission possible and Thank them for being the kind of people that I like:

The people I Like I like the people who vibrate.

The people who you don’t have to push and tell them what to do. They know what needs to be done and do it.

The people who cultivate their dreams until those dreams take on their own reality. I like the people who have the capacity to measure the consequences of their actions.

The people that risk the certain for the uncertain when chasing a dream.Who allow themselves to get away form sound advice leaving the solutions in the hands of God.

I like the people who are just with their peers and themselves.

The people who are thankful for every new day and for the good things that exist in their lives, who live every hour with a good spirit, giving the best of themselves, thankful for being alive, for being able to give away smiles and to offer a helping hand without expecting anything in return.

I like the people who have the capacity to criticize me, constructively and to my face, but without hurting or wounding me. The people who are tactful. I like the people who posses a sense of justice. It is they who I call my friends.

I like the people who know the importance of joy and practice it.

The people who through joking teach us to live life with humor. The people who in this sense, never stop being child-like.

I like the people whose energy is contagious. I like the people who are frank and sincere, capable of opposing the decisions of anyone with reasonable argumentation.

I like the people who are faithful and persistent, who don’t give up when it comes to reaching objectives and ideas.

I like the people with criteria, who aren’t ashamed of admitting when they are wrong or when there is something they don’t know. The people who, after acknowledging their mistakes, genuinely strive to not make them again.

The people who fight against adversities.

I like the people who look for solutions.

I like the people who think and meditate internally.

The people who value their peers not because of a social stereotype or how they look. The people who don’t judge or allow others to judge them.

I like the people who have personality.

I like the people capable of understanding that the biggest mistake a human being can make, is to try to take away from his mind that which won’t leave his heart.

Sensitivity, courage, solidarity, kindness, respect, tranquility, values, joy, humility, faith, tact, confidence, hope, appreciation, wisdom, dreams, regrets, self love and love for others are all fundamental in order to be called PEOPLE.

I am committed for the rest of my life, for anything, with people like these. Just for having them with me I’m well remunerated.

Special Thanks to the following people for making this evacuation possible

Open Society Foundations (OSF)

Open Society University Network

Andrew W. Mellon Foundation

Aselia Umetalieva

Omar Waraich

Jonathan Becker

Bryan Billings

Bonnie T. Goad

Zarlasht Sarmast

Ilari Könönen

Asel Sydykbaeva

Indira Sagynova

Ilias Sulvanov

Abdul Walid Azizi

Zhamilia Irsalieva

Aizhamal Dzhanibekova

Umut Kydyrgychova

Tatiana Orlova

Florian Becker

Bendetta Roux

Stephanie Hausotter

Marion Detjen

Arni Arnthorsson

Colman Joyce

Matt Trevithick

Ian Bickford

David Sedney

Chingiz Shamshiev

Nurgul Ukueva

Emil Martinez

Yasin Yaqubie

Ehsan Achekzai

Jose Roberto

Roope Ruokonen

Kamila Mateeva

AUCA Development Office

Bermet Tursunkulova

Anna Kim

Nazgul Koilubaeva

Aikanysh Imanova

Jumakadyrova Gulsana

Erik Black

Vitess Del Prete

Saltanat Rustembekova

Aidai Sarykueva

David K Lakhdhir

Tatiana Orlova

Celine Carbullido

Ilias Suvanov

AUCA Public Relations Office

Saikal Anvarbek kyzy

Christopher Baker

Aizhana Dzhumalieva

Tamo Chattopadhay

Elena Kosterina

Galina Gorborukova

Akylai Muktarbek kyzy

Cholpon Turdalieva

Jibek Toichubekova

Gulzada Kochokova

Aidai Anvarbek kyzy

And everyone else who made this possible.