By Véronique R., funding member and board member of the Nai Qala Association
This summer I travelled across Afghanistan, following the dusty tracks from Kabul to the high valleys of Bamyan, Daikundi and Ghazni. The journey was long, lengthy-hour drives on mountain roads, countless checkpoints, unexpected delays, but what I discovered at the end of each path was worth every bump and cloud of dust: communities quietly building a future through education.
Kabul: life behind closed doors
Kabul greets visitors with energy and contradiction. Streets are lively, but for women, public space is narrow. Many remain indoors; windows are covered, and parks are closed to them. Yet even here, hospitality thrives. Around shared lunches in the Nai Qala office, colleagues trade news, often difficult, while maintaining a humor and optimism that defy the day’s headlines.
Roads that bind villages together
Leaving the capital means surrendering to the rhythm of the mountains. Drivers navigate rocky passes and riverbeds, stopping for tea, watermelon or kebabs, the traditional mutton skewers. These journeys reveal the distance, geographic and social, between city and countryside, but also the ties that unite them.
Lessons beyond the walls
In each remote village, I found the same quiet determination. Sometimes the class is a single borrowed room in a mosque; sometimes a guest room in a simple family mud-brick building. Children recite numbers, sing, and learn to wash their teeth. Mothers gather outside. These classrooms are more than places to learn, draw or play. They are centers of community life, opening conversations about health, cooperation and respect.
Women at the heart of change
The teachers I met, often the only women in their villages with paid work, carry an extraordinary responsibility. They teach letters and numbers, but also model independence and leadership for the next generation. Their commitment shows that educating girls benefits entire families and communities.
The Kabul support team
Behind every remote rural class stands a dedicated team in Kabul. They handle logistics, secure permissions, monitor security and keep supplies moving, often late in the day. Their quiet efficiency ensures that a child in a remote valley can draw in his notebook tomorrow because someone in the capital worked tirelessly today.
Generosity amid scarcity
In many of the classes I visited, children offered what their families could spare: a small bag of dried apricots, a handful of almonds. Communities presented traditional dresses, and colleagues welcomed me with extraordinary care. Their generosity, shared despite limited means, was a lasting lesson in dignity and resilience.
A personal reflection
Travel in Afghanistan is not tourism; it is an invitation to witness courage. I return with the conviction that education is hope in action. As long as a single class remains open, there is a path forward for children and their families.
After coming home, I realize how deeply this journey has marked me. I miss the laughter around endless cups of tea, the pride of teachers sharing their students’ progress, the calm strength of the colleagues who work every day under challenging conditions. I am also deeply inspired by the president of Nai Qala, whose relentless dedication, courage and vision continue to guide the organization forward, even in the most difficult circumstances.
Yes, the road is long and the obstacles many, but the spirit I encountered, of perseverance, generosity and belief in education, remains stronger than any restriction.