There is no bread, no security, no work, no freedom, no music, no flirtation and no hope in Kabul. There is no peace, there is no green space, there is no infrastructure, there is no health care and there is no political stability.

Instead of all this, it is war, it is unemployment, it is forced labor, it is theft, it is mysterious murders, it is child abuse, it is rape, it is prejudice, it is darkness, it is loneliness, it is nostalgia. It is poverty, it is humiliation, it is famine. It's a girl, it's a pollinator, it is a patriarchy, it is a house of war, it is lawless. It is a gun, it is an assassination, it is a whip, it is a field court, it is a gallows.
Life for Kabul has been somewhere else for years, anywhere but here. Young people in Kabul go to sea even at the age of fourteen or fifteen. A quarter of Kabul's children are displaced.

Kabul, in its current state, is hell on earth. Geography of Oh and Fire. Where the earth has opened its mouth, and if no one takes the group to seek the help of its children, it will sink straight into the dark cemeteries.

To be realistic and bold, even love and affection in Kabul has become something other than heartfelt passion. Kabul has been in the hands of everyone for years. Kabul girls love people who can take them anywhere but here.

To be counted