By Ashya B.

I promise you I will hold your hands again.
I promise you we will meet forever.
We will survive, no matter that the Taliban is here.

I promise you we will breathe the fresh air again.
We will walk along the beach with big smiles on our faces.
And drink coffee in the café where we used to drink coffee before.
Go outside without fear and without Chadari
We will wear colorful clothes.
Laugh out loud on the street again.

I promise you we will sit together again, gossiping about colleagues.
And visit each other secretly, staying awake till late in the night.
We will shop for each other.
And imagine our future together once again.

I promise you we will argue about choosing our kids’ names.
We’ll eat milky cake in the restaurant.
Talk on the phone over my balcony till midnight.
And even chitchat all night.

I promise you we will fight about stupid things.
And make up after each dispute.
I promise you we will do silly things on the street.
And I’ll make you jealous again in the workplace.
But you will make me feel special with surprises.

I promise you we will meet again.
And we will live again.
No matter how hard the time or how long it takes.
This I know, the time will come.
And I will fulfill all my promises.

Writing by Afghan writers. Editor/Publisher: Nancy Antle; Editor: Pamela Hart