You arrived in the U.S. from Afghanistan in July 2022. Can you share the story of your journey and what that experience was like for you? 

Akbarzada: My dreams were intertwined with my homeland, I never wanted to leave. I never thought history would repeat itself. I believed we were the generation that would change the narrative of our country. To be part of that, I tutored the girls in our neighborhood and wrote about the resilience of Afghan women. When I got the contract in May 2021, I couldn’t wait for the book launch of my debut novel, set for August 22nd at my friend’s library. But on the day that was meant to be the happiest of my life, I found myself erasing traces of my existence from the internet and asking my publisher to remove my picture from their website. My country had collapsed, and with it, my dreams. I was given a few hours to pack my backpack and leave. I sat staring at my pink room, looking at the unfinished book across my bookshelf, trying to comprehend how to fit my entire life into a backpack. I wondered how much a human heart can take while filling my bag with childhood pictures, the only thing I brought with me. I was evacuated to Rwanda and spent nine months there, navigating new griefs. Today, I am here, staring at my university backpack filled with poetry books that breathe life into me.

In 2022, you published your second book, A Glimmer in the Dark, a collection of poetry. Could you tell us about the themes and inspiration behind this work?

Akbarzada: The beautiful hills and gleaming landscapes of Kigali, Rwanda reminded me of Kabul. I stayed up many nights waiting for its majestic sunrise, but no words would come. One day, I saw a red-seeded dandelion stuck to the window beside my bed. In our culture, a dandelion seed is believed to carry a message from a loved one far away, it became a glimmer in my dark. On my way to hospitals to take a loved one, I would see dandelions again, smile, and keep going. The collection of poetry reflects my life in Afghanistan and the journey to the United States, finding hope in little things—often overlooked moments, after losing everything.

Your poetry also led you to become involved with the UVA-based organization Cville Tulips. How did that connection come about?

Akbarzada: I met one of the kindest people through the International Rescue Committee in Charlottesville, where I work today. The amazing Youth Team organized a poetry reading for me at Charlottesville High School for the kids. I was very excited to share with them and hear their words. One of the guests was Bonnie Gordon, a professor of music at UVA, who has since become my hero. She introduced me to Cville Tulips. Cville Tulips builds community with predominantly Afghan and Syrian refugee women and children through culturally responsive English, health, and arts education.

Hesitant at first, I decided to go, especially so that my little sister could meet other girls her age from Afghanistan. When the bus arrived to take us, I kept my head low, but then I heard women speaking Dari. My heart skipped a beat. I looked up and saw a bus full of aunties dressed in traditional clothes, laughing, joking, and asking me to sit beside them, sharing their motherly love. I felt like I was home again. We drove to where the Cville Tulips gathering was taking place and it was a little Afghanistan over there. I couldn’t believe it. Two weeks into the program, I found myself wearing the Cville Tulips shirt, holding a woman’s hand as she wrote her name in English on the board, and carrying another auntie’s baby. It’s a holistic approach to community engagement and empowerment, where we lift each other up and learn what life is truly about— surrounded by people who lead with love and dedication.

You also teach English to girls in Afghanistan through the nonprofit Helay Chakhansuri Family Foundation (HCFF). Could you share what that experience has been like for you?

Akbarzada: I was raised by the strongest woman I know, my late mother, whom I always called a true feminist. She raised me to follow her lead. After losing my mother just three months after arriving in the U.S., I was searching for a way to make sense of everything. Teaching girls back home became the perfect opportunity—it saved me. My favorite part of the day is listening to their sweet voices in Google Meet, finding inspiration in their resilience, and feeling so proud of their progress. Afghanistan is the only country in the world where being a woman is criminalized. No girl can study beyond the sixth grade, attend university, work, or travel. It's been three years, and this nightmare hasn’t ended. I could have been another forgotten story among them. This is a war that the women in Afghanistan are fighting alone, and I will never give up on them. Our pens stand mightier than guns.

How do you manage balancing this important work with your studies?

Akbarzada: If I don’t do this work, my conscience is restless, and I can’t study, or do anything. It’s because of this work that I feel motivated to study— hoping that one day I’ll be able to do something meaningful for them.

How have these experiences—your journey, your poetry, your work with Cville Tulips and HCFF—shaped your future goals and aspirations?

Akbarzada: These experiences have reshaped my perspective on life, as well as my values and vulnerabilities. Though they sometimes make me feel alienated from the world around me, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My future goals are centered on advocating for communities that suffer injustices through no fault of their own. I want to sit beside those in power who allow these atrocities to happen, so that I can work to stop them. I'm pre-law—focused on humanitarian work for nonprofits, and that's why I will intern for Legal Aid Justice Center this summer. As for my writing, it is my sanctuary—poetry saves me a seat in the chaos

For UVA students who want to engage with global issues, what advice would you give them on how to stay informed and get involved?

Akbarzada: Let’s resist justifying our biases through the futile mainstream media. Expand your horizons by sitting down and talking to people who come from different parts of the world. Befriend the one who speaks a different tongue, who doesn’t look like you, who doesn’t dress like you—that’s how we grow. If you don’t know where to start, come join Cville Tulips, and let’s be friends 😊