Nadia Ghulam notes that people born in countries torn by war often emerge with no fixed name, no definitive surname, and no public record of age. This rings true for a narrator born in 1985 in a country then under Soviet occupation, Afghanistan. Lacking official records, the Afghan writer and activist chooses an approximate birth date, settling on June 4, and is now approaching his 39th birthday. With a keen, discerning gaze, this individual spent a decade living under a male identity in Afghanistan, where he was implicated in a deadly act that altered a family’s life, leaving his brother in a coma for months. After years in Catalonia, his published work Somniant la pau reflects on these experiences and offers sharp, poignant observations about peace.
What contrasts does the interviewee see between the final phase of Taliban rule and the present climate he is living through?
From the man’s perspective, his book dreams aloud of peace by drawing parallels between the Taliban’s emergence in 1996 and today’s realities. Back then, civilians had little access to information while the Taliban operated in a different century of control. Today, a new dimension has appeared: individuals carry smartphones, even if some cannot read or write. Cameras are ubiquitous, and the ability to post images and videos is widespread. This technological shift creates a significant challenge for civilians. Those who once tasted freedom find themselves confined again, and at a heavy personal cost. The level of constraint has surged, and oppression now comes with greater sophistication and tools. Everything is taxed, and fear runs deep. The older regime punished women who left home unaccompanied or were unveiled; now, the system is more insidious. Rather than punishing women directly, the regime seeks to control through men in the family, drastically heightening domestic violence.
Another question explored in the interview concerns how Spain treats Ukrainian refugees compared with Afghans or other nationalities.
He observes anxiety and hardship in the refugee experience. Ukrainian refugees in Spain currently possess more economic resources and easier access to higher education and professional reentry. In contrast, Afghan, Syrian, or Palestinian refugees face a long, arduous path: years of credential verification, scarce opportunities to work in their chosen fields, and a need to navigate a labyrinth of offices and forms just to survive. Many arrive with hope for dignity and human rights, only to confront barriers to education and employment that threaten to erode their futures. Mental health among Afghan refugees is notably fragile, with a large share experiencing severe post-traumatic stress. The reality is stark: while some refugees can pursue studies, securing recognized qualifications remains a major obstacle—often forcing them into low-paid or menial work to survive. The interviewee questions whether this is truly an opportunity for rebuilding a life.
There is also a discussion about simplifying verification processes for studies and refugees. The request is not to replace certificates with simple recognition, but to acknowledge talents and grant access to universities, enabling refugees to pursue careers they want.
The conversation turns to the fate of the sister of the interviewee. She is a mathematics teacher in Afghanistan, yet in the new context, she cannot prove her credentials and is offered a cleaning course instead. The speaker reflects on the personal sacrifice made to fund his sister’s education, hoping she could have a better life than his own. He admits he did not learn to read or write until the age of 16, and he does not want his sister to endure a similar fate.
The discussion moves to a broader critique of Western responses to crises. The interviewee expresses frustration with weapon transfers to Ukraine as a solution to aggression, arguing that history shows arms often perpetuate conflict rather than resolve it. He points to a parallel with his homeland where foreign interference initially helped to push back occupying forces but left a lingering, unresolved war for decades. The same dynamic, he suggests, risks repeating itself in Ukraine: arming civilians can misread the nature of strategic power, and violence tends to breed more violence rather than lasting peace.
Finally, he laments media focus on certain crises while others fade from the screen. Ukraine’s attention is intense; Afghanistan’s crisis receives less sustained coverage, which impacts humanitarian aid. The speaker emphasizes that neglect harms the most vulnerable people and cautions against letting Afghanistan fade from public memory. He hopes to prevent a future where the country remains forgotten and its people linger in hardship because the outside world loses interest.