Mahbooba Faiz was preparing to defend her dissertation for her master’s degree in international law when she heard the news that Afghanistan’s capital city, Kabul, had fallen to the Taliban and universities were closing their doors.
“Everything just changed in the blink of an eye,” she recalls of that day in August last year.
“We had our lives, our dreams, and now we feared for our lives. We were disappointed in the Americans, everything happened so suddenly to make it all fall apart.”
Originally from Afghanistan, Mahbooba spent her teenage years in Pakistan, after her family fled their home country following the Taliban’s rise to prominence in the mid 1990s.
From Baby Reindeer and The Traitors to Bodkin and The 2 Johnnies Late Night Lock In: The best and worst television of 2024
100 Years of Solitude review: A woozy, feverish watch to be savoured in bite-sized portions
How your mini travel shampoo is costing your pocket and the planet - here’s an alternative
‘So many Afghan women are really suffering. I’m so sad for them and wish there was something more I could do’
“I was hopeless as a child. The first Taliban capture happened when I was about nine years old. I thought I would never be able to go to school again. But my family decided to relocate to Pakistan at that time, and I was able to complete my high school education and learn English,” she explains.
The family remained in Pakistan for about 10 years.
[ ‘Moving to Ireland was more than a culture shock. It was a wake-up call’Opens in new window ]
“When it was clear the Americans were defeating the Taliban, we returned to our homeland. I married my husband in 2008, began working in women’s empowerment organisations, and started at university.”
Mahbooba received a bachelor’s degree in criminal law and began a job until she became pregnant with her son.
“I quit my job until Sherwin was three years old, and then returned to university to do a master’s in international law. Everything was good. Then, last year, when I was supposed to defend my dissertation, on that day I learned that the city had already fallen.”
Mahbooba’s husband, a human rights activist, had worked with some Irish human rights organisations based in Dublin, and turned to them for help.
“They communicated with the Irish Government on our behalf and we were issued a visa two days after the collapse of Kabul. It took us a week to get through the airport though because of the chaos there,” she recalls.
She and her husband initially flew to Doha by American military plane with their by then eight-year-old son Sherwin, where they stayed for a week.
“Then we flew on to Germany for a week and finally arrived in Ireland after 15 days. We were brought to the Mosney direct provision accommodation centre [in Co Meath], where we stayed for three months.”
[ ‘I’m happy to be in Ireland because it’s a woman-centred country’Opens in new window ]
The family was later offered a community supported house in Tallow, Co Waterford, by “a group of wonderful ladies”, Mahbooba says, adding: “We gladly accepted that and the three of us are still living there now.
“The first day when I stepped off the plane and into Ireland, I felt like a bird who came out of a cage, despite all the obstacles. Life in Afghanistan was full of stress. But for the past year here, I have lived the life I always wanted.”
“At home, the security issues meant that we always kept our son indoors, but here he has full autonomy and we can allow him to play with his friends outside in the street. He’s in second class at school now, and he has great English, so he has made a lot of friends.”
‘I wish the war will come to an end one day and my family and my people can live safely’
Mahbooba’s husband began working remotely for a human rights organisation in Europe, but it was more difficult for her to find a job, at first.
“For a refugee, it’s hard to get the type of job you want, in your own field. It took me a while.”
Mahbooba had wanted to do a law master’s in Ireland before seeking a job, to get to grips with the differences in the legal system here compared with back home. But asylum seekers are required to pay international fees to access third-level education in the State, and refugees are unable to qualify for lower Irish fees until they’ve been resident for three years.
“Thankfully, I found a job eventually with RDJ,” she explains, referring to an Irish corporate law firm with offices based in Dublin and Cork.
“I’m so delighted to work here and my colleagues are so supportive. I have to relearn a lot of things because the context, the environment and the entire legal system are different here. In Afghanistan, we follow civil law, but here it’s common law. But I’m learning all the terminology and I’m doing my best.”
Having a new job has helped Mahbooba to feel more settled in Ireland. Working from RDJ’s Cork office means she sometimes travels there by train from Waterford and gets to see and experience more parts of the country.
It’s a “more peaceful” life than in Afghanistan, which often felt “very stressful”.
“Even for us, who had good jobs and a nice house, still we slept with fear and woke up with fear that something bad will happen as all the provinces fell one by one. I worry for my family now. My mother and my siblings are still left behind and I miss them very much,” she says.
“We talk over the phone and they’re good right now, but no one knows what will happen next. I wish the war will come to an end one day and my family and my people can live safely.”
While Mahbooba feels “privileged to have found safety in Ireland”, she says her “heart breaks for my people back home, especially Afghan women”.
“I have freedom of expression, I can travel on my own, I can wear what I like. But so many Afghan women are really suffering. I’m so sad for them and wish there was something more I could do. Ireland and the international community could do something more.”
We would like to hear from people who have moved to Ireland in the past 10 years. To get involved, email newtotheparish@irishtimes.com or tweet @newtotheparish
