She was just 9 years old. She didn’t know whether she was a Shia or a Sunni Muslim. She even didn’t know which ethnic group she belonged to. All she knew that she had small sparkling eyes, fair complexion and a small cute nose. She also knew that she was living in Afghanistan but she didn’t know how vulnerable she was being a Hazara Shia girl.
In her native village Dhamordha, Jaghori District, Afghanistan she walked freely. She used to go to her school alone without fear of being stopped. She was studying in year 4. She loved her school and her class teacher. Perhaps she wanted to be a school teacher. She was the second daughter but she always considered herself the eldest child in the family. She didn’t like playing with dolls because it would make her feel younger. And she never wanted that something should make her feel smaller. She wanted to grow fast—faster than a bamboo tree. She seemed to be in a rush to get bigger as soon as possible. Sometimes she would secretly wear her mother’s dress and put her makeup on her tiny cute face but she didn’t know that makeup would rather make her look younger of her age.