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HerStory

‘People were afraid to lend a helping hand, but none hesitated to take my photo and video’: Fatima Amiri (Part 2)

Updated: Feb 18

Fatima Amiri is an education and girls' rights activist from Afghanistan who made it to the BBC’s 100 Women in 2022. She is one of the survivors of the deadly attack on the Kaaj tutoring center in the Shittee Hazara neighborhood of Dasht-e-Barchi in western Kabul, Afghanistan, in September 2022 while she and dozens of other students were taking the practice public university entrance exam. She rose amidst the blood and ashes to fight for her dreams and those of her 150 fellow students who were killed and injured. In this interview, HerStory’s Program Director, Murtaza Ibrahimi, sat with Fatima Amiri and discussed her early life, advocacy for girls' education, the attack on Kaaj, her current status, and more.  The interview is being published in three parts.



Ibrahimi: You are a survivor of the brutal attack on the Kaaj Educational Center in the Hazara neighborhood of Dasht-e-Barchi. Tell us about the attack. How did it happen, and how did you survive?


Amiri: The day the attack happened was just like any other day when we were taking the practice university entrance exam. However, what made it different was the prevailing happiness in the class. Why? Because we had just been informed that both male and female students would be allowed to take the university entrance exam. This announcement came on Thursday, a day before the attack.


As the news spread, there was a tangible sense of hope and joy among everyone. Students were instructed to collect their prep exam cards, and it seemed like the climax of hard work and dedication throughout the week had paid off. I remember the positive vibe in the classroom, and I'm sure everyone had put in extra effort into their studies that week.


I personally never sat in the classroom that was targeted during the attack. I usually took the test in another room, specifically in the "C: the classroom of elites." However, on that fateful day, everyone found themselves in the same classroom. A seminar was scheduled to follow the prep exam, focusing on choosing study fields. The atmosphere was supposed to be one of anticipation and excitement for the future, but sadly, it turned into something far more tragic.

I often arrived late at the educational center, but that day I arrived as early as the center’s doors were closed, and I coincidentally arrived at the same time as the center’s principal. I was then the first student to receive the exam papers, though I was told it was too early and there were not enough students. But I did so after much requesting and stressing out. When I sat in classroom A, the room was completely dark, and there was no one. I started answering the questions, and students began to arrive gradually. We, the students, were close and friendly to each other, especially those of us in the special class for elites. We used to always study together, give each other advice, and chat. That is why I remember everyone who arrived in the classroom, and we greeted each other that day. I exactly remember who sat in which seat. I saw Nargis with her tired face, and I am sure that she had studied all night; yet, she had a smile on her face. She said that she wanted to sit next to me at the seminar, and I promised that I would make a seat for her.. I saw Wahida and Nazanin who were solving the questions while laughing with each other. I remember the faces of all the last people who were there.



I had completed all my mathematics questions and was ready to mark the answers on the answer sheet. As I reached for the answer sheet, a loud, ominous noise reverberated around me. This sound wasn't unfamiliar; it had haunted my memories since my high school days. Just a week prior, I had encountered the same jarring noise in a math classroom – shattered windows, broken glass – the aftermath of an attack that had occurred across our educational center. I had hoped the sound I heard this time wouldn't be directed at us, but it was swiftly followed by gunfire.


Panic ensued. The air was filled with screams. Some sought escape, while others stood frozen in uncertainty. Tears and cries echoed through the room, especially among the visibly frightened girls. Determined to bring calm to the chaos, I stood up, assuring everyone that we could find a way out, and urging them to remain calm. The noise was overwhelming; I couldn't hear anyone else amid the chaos of screams and cries.


At one point, I turned around and saw an individual impeccably dressed. I remember his face vividly – young and neatly attired, not instilling fear. Despite his refined appearance, he was shooting relentlessly, consumed by frustration. Fear gripped me as I witnessed him shooting my friends. When he aimed at me, I instinctively sat down, bracing myself for the terrifying sounds that followed. Describing the situation doesn't capture the full weight of the adversity. In those moments, it felt like I was engulfed in flames as if I had ceased to exist. Darkness surrounded me, and I recited my Shahada ("There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.").


Unable to open my left eye and barely managing to open my right, I surveyed my surroundings. The smiling faces I had greeted just minutes ago were now lifeless bodies. Nargis, with whom I had shared a light moment, lay bleeding. We had joked about sitting next to each other, planning for a seminar, unaware that circumstances would dictate we shouldn't be sitting together at all.


Everyone had been killed; there was no one left alive around me, I saw my dearest ones covered in blood, the place that had become my second home was a mess. I couldn’t find a way out. I wanted to step forward to find an exit, but I didn't dare to walk over the dead bodies of the dearest people in my life, who were all like sisters to me. It was not possible for me. I promised right there that if I survived, their dreams would not be buried with their dead bodies; I would fulfill their dreams. Somehow, I managed to navigate over the benches and make my way out. I ran towards the exit gate. The gate was locked, but despite being someone who used to fear climbing even a small height, I climbed the wall with barbed wire and jumped into the neighboring house’s yard. Unfortunately, the yard’s door was closed. I don’t know why I didn’t try to open the door; as soon as I saw it closed, I attempted to jump over the wall to enter the next house’s yard. For a moment, I couldn’t move, and I sat on the ground, unable to see perfectly and feeling dizzy. After a few seconds, when I noticed a bike parked next to the wall, I stood up on the bike and jumped into the next yard. The door was open, and I successfully made my way out.


When I was outside, I didn't know how to judge the people around me, as my situation might have been dire. As I approached them, seeking help to get to the hospital because I couldn't see well, they screamed and ran away from me. It was very strange; I thought maybe I didn't have my head on my body, as everyone seemed terrified. I couldn't comprehend their fear, and their screams only intensified my fear. Despite the numerous people present, no one helped me in getting to the hospital.


What surprised me even more was that people were afraid to lend a helping hand, but none hesitated to take my photo and video. Watan Hospital was across the Kaaj, and somehow, I managed to reach there. Upon arrival, the doctors appeared anxious because a few more wounded students had arrived before me. Those with less severe injuries had managed to reach the hospital earlier than I did. The only thing I recall is pleading with them to provide something to numb the pain; and inject me with a painkiller, as the agony was unbearable. Fortunately, I had memorized my father’s phone number and had it in my mind, and asked a few people there to call him, but none did. I clung to the doctor's skirt, begging her not to leave me alone, but she explained that I wasn't the only patient and she had to attend to everyone. Eventually, she called my father.


The doctors could not remove my scarf from my head as it had burned together with my hair. As soon as my sisters and father arrived, they took me to the Estiqlal Hospital. When the doctors saw me, they said they couldn’t do anything for me. I then moved to the next Hospital. We went to 5 hospitals that day. All I wanted was to get a painkiller as I could not bear the pain, but all the doctors were doing in each hospital was seeing me and saying they could not do anything for me, asking us to go to another hospital. I went through two medical operations involving my eye and jaw that day.


What was interesting even for me was that I was not becoming unconscious. I saw everything and felt: the attack, my pain, and the medical operations. One saying of the doctors that my family has teased me for some time now was that the doctor was asking my father what drug I was addicted to so that they would not make me unconscious. May it be because of the heavy shock I was going through. I was hospitalized for two days after the operation.


Ibrahimi: I'm sorry for what you went through and for making you bring back terrifying and sad memories of the attack. 


Amiri: It is fine. I hope it was only me going through this. What is more painful for me is that I am not the only one experiencing such a situation. There were and are so many people going through the same experience. When I hear about their stories, they tell me that I was lucky that at least I survived the attack. But it may be easy for those who didn't make it, as for those of us who survived, recalling those memories is more painful. This is war, and war always has its casualties and sorrows. I am hopeful that, at the end of many of us being victimized and martyred, there will be peace. That the new generation does not inherit the darkness we did from our previous generations. I am hopeful that we strive for education and enlightenment so that the next generations don't become ignorant like our previous generations.


Ibrahimi: What was inspiring, interesting, and encouraging was that you, along with many other students, took the real university entrance exam shortly after the attack, even while your wounds were still fresh and you had not fully recovered. What motivated you to do it, and did your family and friends try to dissuade you from doing so?


Amiri: I couldn't get up from bed on the scheduled exam day, and missing the exam was incredibly difficult for me. Despite doctors advising against crying due to my wounded eye, I spent the entire day in tears, pondering on the promises I had made to my friends and the hard work I had put in. Fortunately, as soon as I could leave my bed, I managed to make it to the final university entrance exam for miscellaneous students.


As fate would have it, I scored 313 on the exam. While some might see it as a great score, it fell short of my expectations. In practice exams, even the challenging ones for elite students, I had never scored below 340, except for that one time when I scored 313. There's a saying that students usually score 20 marks higher in the real exam than in practice because the real exam is easier. However, given my situation on the exam day, sometimes I wonder if what I scored is not less. I had lost many dear people, and my psychological and physical state was far from optimal—I had just undergone ear surgery, my head was bandaged, and my eye was freshly bandaged and occasionally bleeding. During the exam, there was no special accommodation or treatment for me, and no extra time was given.


Despite being advised to be full of energy on the exam day, to have a good night's rest, and to bring snacks, I couldn't comply like other healthy students. Since the attack, I hadn't eaten anything substantial because of my broken jaw, making it difficult to open my mouth or speak. I could only consume liquids through a pipe. Despite the limited time, I had to lower my head during the exam as my eyes would start to ache while solving each question. Yet, against all odds, I passed the exam. Although I believe I could have performed better without the attack, I am satisfied with my score.


The motivation to take the exam stemmed from being a survivor among my friends who did not make it. I couldn't let go of the dreams we had all worked so hard for, nor could I forget the promise I made to them on the day of the attack.


Despite my lack of interest in medicine, I chose it as my first option in honor of Nargis, who was passionate about the field. Teachers persistently advised against taking the exam, offering to find scholarships instead. However, I insisted on taking the exam.


Ibrahimi: When the results of the university entrance exams were announced that year, none of the top 10 students were girls. Do you believe that the regime in power had tampered with the results, just like many other things?


Amiri: This is crystal clear; they did it, 100 percent. Is it even possible for not a single girl to be among the top 10? Girls used to be the first position holders in recent years. Okay, so they eliminated many of them in the Kaaj Education center so they couldn't make it to the top 10. Weren't there others in different educational centers? I knew many friends who scored excellently in practice exams, so why weren't they in the top 10? It was surprising for me that all the top 10 were boys, and I'm sure they tampered with the results.

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