I was in Kabul twice after NATO went to Afghanistan. When I first landed in the Kabul International Airport, I saw a new terminal built by the Japanese, small but much better that its old one. The first thing that I witnessed, which was not surprising, was to see an Airport ground staff beating an Afghan traveller. Then I was surrounded by tens of men who wanted to help me with collecting my bag. I agreed with one of them, and we waited for the bag to arrive. One hour, two hours, three hours, nothing. I was said that it might come in the next flight, I should go home and come back the next day.
I came out of the airport. Walking through the airport backyard I came out where the visitors would wait to see their families or friends or those who wanted to go back into the airport. My family members embraced me, seeing me after ten years. Tears filled my eyes to see them. We went home to visit all my family waiting for me. We cried out of happiness to see each other after years. My mum, dad, sisters, and brothers were so happy to see me. And I could not wait to sit down with them and talk. My mum never left my side. My sisters were attached to me. My dad and brothers were over the moon. And it was the first day of Eid.
In the morning we went back to the airport to pick up my luggage, but nothing. We went back home. We went there the next day, nothing. I thought someone might have taken it, or it was lost somewhere. The third day, I found my luggage, torn apart, but wrapped by a plastic bag. I took the luggage and went back home. I gave all the gifts that I had for my family. I was so happy to see them. My mum would sleep by my side every night. I realised how much I missed her and how much she missed me.