Diary Entries: The Diary Of Shauzia's Diary

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Shauzia’s Diary Entries. 23RD of January, 1995. I must be blind, I thought I could get out of the terrors of Afghanistan by boat, boy I was wrong. My plan is to meet Parvana in 20 years, on the first day of spring, right on top of the Eiffel tower, but I didn’t know what to do, or where to start. After some time of pacing around the noisy streets of Kabul, looking for a way out of here, I managed to find a man who was willing to take me to Turkey for 10,000 Afghani. Turkey, I thought. That would get me closer to Paris. I was trying to figure a map in my head from the limited geographical knowledge I had from school. School, I remember my class, the smiles on their faces as we learnt about everything. They are gone Shauzia, I told myself …show more content…

It was uncomfortable, but I still managed to fall asleep. The truck came to a sudden halt, I woke up at the sudden change in movement. I was confused, and heard loud footsteps coming towards me. The man looked at me, angrily. I was very scared. He shouted, “Get out of the truck!”. In my panic I jumped out, and tried to run away, but he violently grabbed me and shouted for money. I was so terrified, I tried to get the money out of my pocket, but I couldn’t because he was shaking me from side to side shouting. I figured that he thought I was refusing to give the money, but the truth was, I simply couldn’t get at …show more content…

The man dropped me on the ground and scooped up the money like a bird swooping down for food. I managed to get to my feet groaning in pain, the truck drove away quicker than I could get up. I thought of how my family must’ve been without me, was it a mistake coming to where ever I am? Thinking of this makes me cry, I couldn’t help it. I walked for some time. I struggled. I walked into what seemed like a town, everyone was talking foreign languages, I had no money and I didn’t even know where I was. This is terrible, I don’t know what to do. 3rd of Febuary 1995. Did things get any better from there on? Uhh, no. With a capital N. I slept for some time after the drama, when I woke up I was so hungry. I hadn’t eaten since I left Afghanistan 3 days before. This wasn’t like before when I forgot to buy naan at the store. This was at a whole new level. It was hurting so much, my stomach was shouting at me to do anything for a piece of naan and boiled water, but thinking about it didn’t make things any better. I didn’t want to, and I told myself many times I wouldn’t, but I just had to. I had to steal from others. It hurt to steal from others, even if I didn’t talk their language, but I had to, otherwise I would

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