Before coming here, I lived in Kabul, Afghanistan. I graduated from medical school and later specialized in obstetrics and gynecology. It took me four difficult years to earn my specialization. After that, I worked as a doctor in a hospital, and alongside that, I prepared for my specialty thesis defense. I passed the exam and received my diploma in obstetrics. I was happy; I had finally gotten a job and could serve my family and people.

At night, I used to be on call. We delivered babies and performed cesarean surgeries. The hospital where I worked was called "Ida German," which was run by a female German doctor.

When the Taliban came, one night while I was on duty around 3 a.m. our hospital was suddenly attacked by unknown people. All the doctors were beaten, and all the hospital equipment was destroyed. I was also hit in the face and head. It was a terrifying night. All the nurses and doctors were hiding in fear. The attackers shouted loudly, saying that a foreign doctor here was teaching Christianity, which was not true at all. We were simply serving patients.

Eventually, morning came with fear and horror. After that incident, we all made our way home however we could. From then on, I was too scared to return to the hospital, and I left the job. Everything I had worked so hard for, studying through hardship, was gone.

Later, during the refugee resettlement process, people were being brought to America. My sister here helped complete my paperwork with the documents I had. Eventually, a representative from a charitable organization (I’ve forgotten the name of the foreign person) called and told us to get to Mazar-e-Sharif. We quickly left and stayed in Mazar-e-Sharif for a week.

Then, they took us to the airport. Many others were there too. We flew on a Kam Air flight and arrived in Qatar about two hours later. After the checks at the airport in Qatar, they took us to a camp where we went through checks and biometric registration. Then the assigned staff gave us rooms. We stayed in Qatar for about a month.

Finally, we were transferred to a camp in Virginia. We stayed there for about two months. Then we were moved to California.

Now I live here, renting a home, and I am working a convenience job. I’m trying to stand on my own feet so that I can also help my family who are still in Afghanistan.

I am concerned about Afghans in the U.S. who do not have permanent residency status and are facing the threat of deportation to Afghanistan. If they are deported, it will be very difficult for them because there are no opportunities for work or education in Afghanistan, and there is no security. As a result, they will face serious hardships.