The Lord Loves His Children,
On August 15, 2021, at approximately 11:00 a.m I and my wife (Afsana) were in front of the First Microfinance Bank in downtown Kabul to withdraw the minimal amount we had in her bank account in order to survive for a few days as the Taliban besieged the city from four sides. Due to the central bank of Afghanistan’s reluctance to disburse cash to public and private banks amidst the months-long chaos, the line was long and everyone was eager to get inside the branch to withdraw cash from their accounts. The city was silent, and security guards barred customers from approaching the counters, however, a few lucky individuals who showed up in the early morning received a portion of their savings.
While waiting in line, my wife looked at me and slowly warned me that we would be slaughtered because the Taliban would find the Bible and other biblical literature on the shelf if they came to our house now. I tried to reassure her that the Taliban will not enter the city today, as per the Doha agreement between the US and the Taliban. She felt a little relieved. I prayed for our safety, as well as the safety of our brothers and sisters who were in Kabul and elsewhere. In a matter of minutes, the city had shifted from order to turmoil and uncertainty. I was worried that if we were killed on the street, who would look after Mehr Dad and Zhyar, our two sons. Suddenly, everything changed. All of a sudden shootings heard from our vicinity so all clients dispersed and we ran towards the main road to take a taxi to get home sooner and safer, but to no avail. Banks, shops and all businesses closed, everyone was trying to flee the downtown.
We walked home for 30 minutes on foot. We gathered our belongings and children at home and escaped to my friend’s home. My friend was a Muslim who had graduated from one of the UK’s universities he was an open minded and westernized. He greeted us and assured me that as long as my father and others are unaware of your faith, you will be secure here. I asked him to let me know if your family is aware of my faith. They aren’t aware of your religious convictions, he said. A live broadcast in the afternoon indicated that Afghanistan’s president had left the country, leaving a power vacuum in the capital. Everyone was thinking of targeted killings, pillage, and retaliation. I opted to return to my house because I had forgotten to bring the Bible, the holy cross, and other important literature with me. I was on my way when I noticed a large crowd racing to the airport. I assumed these people were working with the US and NATO thus they are running to get them to safety. I turned down a narrow road and noticed a bunch of people were rushing towards the airport. I thought these folks were working with US and Nato so they would be taken out to safety. When I turned down a tiny alley, I noticed a bunch of armed men blocking my way. They didn’t appear to be Taliban, yet they held a white Taliban flag in their hands. They came to a halt, and one of them began thrashing me. I explained that I am a regular citizen please do not hit me. One of them raised his rifle and aimed it at me. “Why are you murdering me?” I yelled. He fired two bullets into the sky and kicked me twice in the abdomen. They let me go despite the fact that my entire body was in excruciating pain. At 8:00 p.m I returned home. When I contacted Pastor Shin about the books and Bible, he stated that you are free to destroy them as long as it is the matter of your life. Because I was terrified of the smoke, it took me three hours to burn them slowly enough that my neighbors wouldn’t notice. My tears streamed down like rain as I tore down the pages of the Holy Bible. At 12 a.m., I finish the task. I packed my possessions and left the house to join my family at a friend’s residence. Taliban fighters were swarming the streets. I was afraid that If I was killed tonight, I texted Afsana and asked her to leave the country with the kids. I began praying for protection before our Lord Jesus Christ. The Taliban fighters were overjoyed with their triumph and said nothing to me, the Holy Spirit was saving me from the evil Taliban eyes that night. Dozens were killed on the first night of their takeover.
At roughly 2:00 p.m I joined my family. I sawAfsana was crying, and two children were sitting behind her. I encouraged Afsana to pray not cry. We couldn’t sleep that night. In the morning we decided to join the crowd who were trying to take the military planes. On August 16, I took a taxi to the airport, covered Afsana’s face like a Muslim, and wore an Afghan turban on my head as we prepared to leave the country. Thousands of men and women, many with children, were frantically trying to flee the hellish situation. The airport is surrounded by Taliban insurgents. Shootings and stampedes claimed the lives of many people. I witnessed the bodies of women and children who had been killed or injured being taken out of the airport’s gate. The scenario was truly apocalyptic. The Taliban were inspecting some people’s documents, and I suppose they were looking for believers, US local allies, and high-ranking government officials. From the airport, I shot photos and videos and shared them with GMU lecturers; Pastor James and Drs. Linda Trott. Because of the explosions, both of them requested that I leave the airport. We tried our hardest to find US servicemen but were unable to do so due to the large number of people in the airport. We wanted to leave the airport and travel somewhere else, but the crowds of desperate Afghans trying to flee Kabul prevented us from doing so. The journey from one compound to the next took 12 hours. It was a hot summer day with little protection from the sun. My children were wailing as a result of Taliban and Coalition troops murdering people in our area to keep them away.
At around 9:00 p.m we left the airport campus, terrified, thirsty, and hungry. My children were famished. I grabbed some cookies and milk for them as soon as I got to the store. We returned to my friend’s residence. He was also attempting to leave the country but was unable to do so owing to the large crowd. He told me that unless I pray five times the Islamic prayers, my father would not let you stay at his house. Okay, I said, I’ll do it. In reality, I did not do so. We stayed for another five days. My friend came to me and said I have a house for you in another location so you can shift there with your family. I said if the area is safe no matter what, I will move there. On August 21, we moved there, unfortunately after a day the Taliban began searching to find ex-government personnel to seize their guns and non-Muslims to imprison them. We fled with our documents from the backyard. They came and took my computer, mobile phone and around 430$ dollars which were left behind. We had our documents in hand and some Afghani rupees. We stayed 3 days and nights in a bus station in a tent by paying 10$. We slept on the soil without blankets and a mattress.
We went to the airport two days before the massive explosion at the airport’s entrance gate without alerting anyone, despite our continual touch with GMU and Pastor Shin. We arrived at 4:00 a.m. and walked into a sewage canal. Afghans and foreigners who were being evacuated stood on one side of the canal, while US and foreign soldiers were on the other. I pleaded with soldiers to let us into the airport. No one was paying attention to me. I was holding my younger boy on my chest and my older son on my shoulders because I couldn’t sit and put them down because of the sewage water. I stood there for 14 hours straight, with long periods of standing numbing my spine. Around 5:00 p.m., US forces advised us to leave the area. I exited the canal and returned to the same bus stop. We detoured to a restaurant since there were a number of Taliban military cars in the station. We slept under the dusty tables of the restaurant. That night, my younger son became ill, with a fever and diarrhea. His situation was not going well, so I gave him some medicine, which reduced his fever. We then waited for the Lord to heal him completely. For the next 24 hours, he was OK. I returned to the airport, this time alone, carrying the congress letter that pastor James had shared with me. I showed the letter to a woman who worked for the US army at the airport, which was packed with people and soldiers. She said that you should have a visa with this letter and that I should wait. I was hoping and praying that the Lord would soften their hearts and allow me to enter the airport, at which point I would call my family to come with me. Suddenly, a massive explosion occurred amongst the crowd we were standing; oh my God, it was enormous. I witnessed a man’s head fly into the sky, and a large number of women, children, and men were slaughtered. The second explosion slammed me against the wall. After 30 minutes, I opened my eyes to see a group of young men standing nearby. They were surprised to see me and told me that they were waiting for my breath to stop before handing over my body to Taliban officials. It was all due to the Lord; first, He directed me not to take my family to the airport with me, and then He miraculously protected me from the explosion.
When I returned to join my family, I saw that my son’s health had deteriorated significantly. I drove him to the hospital, where I stayed for three nights. Pastor James and Drs. Linda, on the other hand, tried unsuccessfully to evacuate us through charity groups. Professors from GMU kept in touch with us on a regular basis. Following the Taliban takeover, we spent 45 days in hiding. I received a call from one of my former coworkers, who informed me that a Taliban commander had come to the workplace three days in a row to find you. Because he is a Christian, he claimed that whoever kills that apostate will earn a large reward from Allah. Our lives under the Taliban were like prisons, and we believed that we would be unable to save ourselves unless Jesus Christ intervened. Christians will be killed, according to the Taliban’s canon/Shariah law.
Professors from GMU, as well as Pastor James and Drs. Linda and Kelsey from Catholic News Agency, were looking for measures to ensure our safety as we exited Afghanistan. I received a call from an Afghan-Australian early one morning. He asked me to travel to Kunduz Province in Afghanistan’s north-eastern region which shares a border with Tajikistan. Their plan was to cross the Afghan-Tajik border into Tajikistan illegally. We drove from Kabul to Kunduz over a mountainous highland, which took 16 hours to reach due to the large number of Taliban checkpoints. This time, my older kid became ill. He was suffering from heat exhaustion and diarrhea. We were advised to get a room in a downtown hotel. The room on the third level is available for rent. Taliban fighters from nearby areas swarmed the hotel. I couldn’t sleep at night because I was terrified. I took a taxi to the border on my second night in Kunduz to observe what was going on there.Taxi driver claimed that crossing the border is impossible nowadays. I went and saw that both sides of the river or border were filled with Taliban militants and Russian forces. People were leaving the border town hopelessly. I came back to the city. I narrated all what I saw closely to Afsana.
We were seated in the room’s far corner, unhappy. Afsana cried as she looked at our two children. She wiped her tears away as I was requesting her. We both prayed before Jeus Christ while my sisters and brothers in Tapestry Church LA, GMU, and elsewhere were also continuously praying for the sake of our safety. Suddenly, Kelsey phoned me after 30 minutes. She requested that we leave Kunduz and travel to Mazar e Sharif, Afghanistan’s largest city in the north. I sent a message to Pastor James right away. I told Pastor James about her request, being very concerned about our safety, Pastor James asked Kelsey’s mobile number. Kelsey’s phone number was given to Pastor James by me. Pastor James gave us permission to go after about 30 minutes in the car provided by Kelsey’s contacts. The cab driver was waiting for us downstairs. We left Kunduz for Mazar e Sharif at 10:00 a.m. Taliban checkpoints halted us three times on our journey. I had all of my son’s medications with me. I notified the Taliban of my son’s illness so we in Mazar e Sharif want to see a doctor. Isn’t it true that some “Kafir,” which literally means non-Muslims, are attempting to flee our Islamic territory, as a young Taliban member stated? ‘Are there non-Muslims in Afghanistan?’ I inquired. His purpose was the convert Christians.
We arrived at the safe house in Mazar e Sharif in the afternoon. Muslim families were praying five times a day, 24 hours a day in the safe house. Their prayers were not accompanied by me. They turned against me, and I prayed to my Lord Jesus to assist me in getting out of here as quickly as possible. My mother and sister also came to the safe home with us. God heard my prayers, as well as the prayers of all my sisters and brothers, and on the fifth night of my stay, I received a message from Kelsey saying that you should be ready for a car to come pick you up and take you to the airport; however, my sister was unable to travel due to her lack of a valid passport. As she is a young Christian girl, it hurt us, me and my mother. Kelsey promised me that she would come after you the following week. My mom was depressed. I wished for her patience as well as her safety. After a week, she joined us in Abu Dhabi. I covered my head and put on a glass in the airport and didn’t look around due to fear from the Taliban. The Taliban were humiliating us, all of us, by stating that we were abandoning Islamic territory and joyously finding sanctuary with pagans.
On October 1, 2021, we arrived in Abu Dhabi. The buses drove us to the Emirates Humanitarian City, which is located in an industrial district of Abu Dhabi. It is a government facility with a capacity of 10,000 people. It is divided into five clusters, with ours being the third. Inside the EHC, the restrictions on movement are mind-boggling. We’ve given it the name prison, and security officers are stationed every 20 meters. Inside the camp, access to the clinic and field hospital is controlled by multi-layered security guards. Because of the epidemic, our floors have been placed under lockdown on occasion. Our only means of communication with the outside world is through our mobile phones. We are not permitted to leave the building unless there is a medical emergency. Our country is rife with terrorism and is run by the Taliban, one of the most devilish and savage Islamist groups. Meanwhile, there has been no progress with our resettlement in the United States, Europe, or Canada, so we are living in fear of deportation. The UAE treats us as visitors rather than lawful refugees. Despite the challenges, we have faith in our Lord Jesus Christ and believe that He has a plan for His children who are suffering in the same way that we are.
Finally, I’d like to express my gratitude to my teachers, pastors, sisters, and brothers in the Lord for their consistent and powerful prayers for me and my family. I pray that the heavenly Father showers you with His one-of-a-kind and unrivaled benefits in this life and the next. Your prayers and efforts were instrumental in saving us from the most wicked regime in Afghanistan, which is ranked first in the world for its persecution of Christians.
I strongly believe that the Lord of the universe, Jesus Christ saved me at Abbey gate explosion and got us out of the imminent danger of the Taliban from Afghanistan.
In Him,
Majeed Afshang
