Today (May 22d) is my tenth wedding anniversary. Like the past four, my wife and I will spend it approximately 7,000 miles apart on a blurry FaceTime call.
She is in Herat, a city in Western Afghanistan, near the Iranian border. I live just outside Columbia, PA, in a house I bought about a year ago, in the county that welcomed me.
Eight time zones separate us, so I usually call late at night to catch her when she’s just waking up. It has been our daily routine for the last 1500 or so days, since I fled from the Taliban in August of 2021.
When I left Afghanistan, I never thought I would spend so many years without her. I was told by the American military, for whom I worked faithfully for years, that it would only be a few months, at most a year, before she could join me in my new home. And when I first arrived in Lancaster, I believed it.
The US and the folks in Lancaster County were so welcoming to me and there was so much good will toward brave Afghans, I couldn’t imagine that it would ever fade.
And yet, that’s exactly what happened. Other world crises have occurred. A new presidential administration took over. The winds of American sentiment changed. Politicians who raced to embrace Afghans as heroes couldn’t be bothered to pass legislation that would put us on a pathway to permanent residency. That delay meant that we all had to go the much longer route of applying for asylum. That process still grinds on and the hope of seeing my
wife again has become more distant than ever.
This year we’ve faced even more obstacles than congressional inaction. CARE (the Coordinator of Afghan Relocation Efforts), the State Department office that worked on our cases, was closed in July as part of DOGE efforts to cut funding at State. On June 3 rd President Trump banned people from Afghanistan from entering the country. So, as I’m working on all the paperwork and raising thousands of dollars to get my wife to Saudi Arabia for an immigration interview, I don’t even know if the process will work. She could get all necessary approvals, have a successful interview at the embassy and still be barred because of the travel ban. If we only knew how long we had to wait, it would be bearable. But as it stands, we don’t know how long, or even if, it will ever happen. And that is what hurts the most, the uncertainty. If we could just know how long it will be before we’re reunited, I could be strong and wait. But not knowing when or if I’ll see her again, is the hardest part of the situation. I try to fill the time to manage how much I miss her. I take trips to see America with my friends. (especially love camping, America’s national parks and the ocean). I signed up with CWS-Lancaster to speak to groups about my experience as an immigrant to Lancaster.
Last year, I started coaching a youth soccer team for the Lancaster Rec to contribute to my adopted community. We even won the championship in my first year of coaching.
While these pursuits provide my life with meaning, they can’t replace my wife, nor help me heal from the sudden change from welcoming Afghans as heroes to treating us like potential villains.
I often hear Americans say they want immigrants to do things the “right way”. Well, I have done everything the ‘right way’. I risked my life and safety to help the US military. I arrived with legal status. I work a good job, pay taxes and even bought a house. I’ve been patient as the process has turned from months into years.
I’ve worked closely with immigration case worker at Congressman Smucker’s office: Kimberli Reed. She has helped so much, checking on my Green Card, moving my wife’s interview to a different city, and so much more.
I appreciate her work so much, but there needs to be more action from folks above her pay grade. Our legislators need to listen to groups like the VFW, the American Legion and other veteran’s groups and pass meaningful legislation that will fulfill American promises to those folks who risked everything because they believed in the promise of a free Afghanistan. Instead, this year has seen setback after setback for just these people. Not only does this mean harming individuals and families, it weakens America’s standing in the world. Who will agree to be our allies when this is the result?
On our anniversary my wife and I discussed next steps. During darker moments, we discuss whether it doesn’t make more sense for me to just go back to Afghanistan and face the Taliban. We know that could mean imprisonment, torture or even death, but sometimes it feels like I’m willing to face that outcome because at least we’ll be together.
I ask that you contact your legislator and urge them to help us avoid that fate. I give you permission to use my story, which I promise is just one in tens of thousand tragedies playing out for Afghans in America.
Pease!
