Sam’s Story: A Young Man From Afghanistan

Never would I have thought that I would travel remotely close to Afghanistan. After all, constant news in the media about the Taliban would be sure to steer away any curious wanderers. But there I was, looking across the river to Afghanistan, less than 50 metres away from a country known for being torn by war. Yet at that very spot, I saw nothing but a quiet river streaming through the rocky hills as camels grazed on the water’s edge. It was a glimpse of the peace that the country had, until the Soviets and the British Empire razed it down in their pursuit for dominance. However at that moment, in this particular valley, after years of being caught in the crossfire, there was no trace of instability.

The river separating Afghanistan from Tajikistan in the Wakhan Valley

I could ramble on for hours how enchanting Afghanistan seemed, how tempted I was to swim across the river and explore, but I want to share with you the story of a curious and courageous young man from Afghanistan, Sam*. In the face of death as the Taliban hunts for them, they remain strong and resilient. They however need a helping hand to get them through a tough journey and perhaps you dear reader can assist?

I did not meet Sam there that day in that captivating valley, but we met on this same backpacking journey that took me East to West along the ancient silk road.

Who is Sam? How did you meet him?

I met Sam in a quiet town I travelled through with two other friends. Sadly we didn’t have the time to get to know the the place well, our lack of knowledge for the local language perhaps being the biggest factor. Nonetheless, I had fun playing the bizarre monkey with my wild hand gestures each time we traded with locals.

Dressed in scruffily like we just crawled out of a dumpster, I can only hope we didn’t smell like it as we hopped onto a bus of locals dressed eloquently in traditional wear. I noticed at the back of the bus there were three boys chuckling away in a beautiful language. That was Sam and his friends and I now know that language to be Pashto.

We alighted the bus confused with absolutely no idea which direction to even walk towards. Luckily for us, Sam and his friends had gotten off the same stop. We called out to them, hoping they would show us the way and were pleasantly surprised to meet the first person who could speak English in this town.

The best part about backpacking, is all the lovely strangers you meet, new friends you find in unexpected places. He told me he was from Afghanistan and that he had received a scholarship to study overseas. He was in fact an engineering student in a nearby university. I was overjoyed to find out that like me, he spoke 5 languages.

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