15 August kabul fall. non-fiction, photography by Ahmad Ali Fadakar


15 August, Kabul Falls.

I don’t see Kabul anymore. Kabul doesn’t have its own blue sky anymore. And the girls of this city can no longer wear their flowery dresses and skirts. They’ve forgotten their laughter.

It was a dark day for Kabul and its people. I didn’t think at all that the Taliban would take over Kabul, and it was hard for me to even imagine it. Unfortunately, this is what happened. On Sunday morning, August 15th, I went to the German-language class as usual, and I didn’t suspect at all that the Taliban would arrive.

I was in the class when one of my classmates received the news. He said, “The Taliban are in Kabul right now, which means that Kabul has fallen.” This news was very sad for me and for my classmates, especially for the girls. Later, the class was closed and everyone was fearful, especially the girls who were in the same class with me. After that, we all left the class and hurriedly went to our homes.

There was chaos in the city. All the people were scared. People hurriedly went to the Kabul airport and to the passport office. That was a dark day in Kabul. I lost my dreams once again, and not only me but thousands of boys and girls of this land lost their dreams, which is profoundly painful for me.

After staying at home for a few days, I decided to make my way to Kabul Airport. I called a German friend of mine, whose name I can’t mention in this article. She sent me a letter telling me to go to Kabul airport. The letter stated that she was in contact with the German soldiers and that they would let me inside the airport.

On Saturday, August 26, I went to Kabul Airport. There was a lot of chaos: women and children were underfoot. No one had mercy on anyone. I saw this with my own eyes. Finally, I reached one of the gates of Kabul Airport, but unfortunately, I couldn’t enter the airport. Then a strong explosion occurred among the people crowded there. Everyone fled and the gate was closed. 

I saw terrible things: women, children, and young men were covered in blood. I thank God that I managed to return home safely that day. And yet, since that day I’ve been feeling confused. I lost my dreams and myself that day, and thousands of people in this land have experienced the same bitter story. I write this in the hope of liberating Kabul from the oppression of the Taliban some day.

Ahmad Fadakar, Afghan photographer. 

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Published by darcie friesen hossack

Darcie Friesen Hossack is a graduate of the Humber School for Writers. Her short story collection, Mennonites Don’t Dance, was a runner-up for the Danuta Gleed Award, shortlisted for the Commonwealth Writers Prize and the Ontario Library Association's Forest of Reading Evergreen Award for Adult Fiction. Citing irreverence, the book was banned by the LaCrete Public Library in Northern Alberta. Having mentored with Giller finalists Sandra Birdsell (The Russlander) and Gail Anderson Dargatz (Spawning Grounds, The Cure for Death by Lightening), Darcie's first novel, Stillwater, will be released in the spring of 2023. Darcie is also a four time judge of the Whistler Independent Book Awards, and a career food writer. She lives in Northern Alberta, Canada, with her husband, international award-winning chef, Dean Hossack.

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