Four Years Since the Fall: Remembering the Day Kabul Went Dark

Ozra*

August 15, 2025

Exactly four years ago, on this same date ⏳, our Afghanistan 🇦🇫—especially Kabul—fell to the Taliban and witnessed its darkest day 🌑.

On that Black Sunday 🖤, we were all at Kabul University 🎓, exhausted and worn out in spirit 💔. Fear 😨, panic, and dread filled everyone as we heard news of the provinces falling one after another. Just the night before, my hometown, Mazar-e Sharif 🕌, had fallen to the Taliban, and only Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan, remained—a land that for years had witnessed oppression, injustice, poverty 💸, and misery at the hands of its ruthless rulers, until finally it fell into the grip of the earthly calamity called the Taliban.

We were in a daze 😶, not knowing for whom or for what to be more afraid: for our country, our people, our families 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦, our education 📚, our uncertain future, or for the thought that these might be the last moments of our lives. We were getting closer to the fall of Kabul with every moment ⏰, yet we still tried to comfort one another and wipe away each other’s tears 😢. There was a thin thread of hope 🪢 in our hearts, but sadly, that thread had already been cut, and the Taliban were only steps away without us realizing it.

Despite the situation, a few of us went to the computer lab 💻 to study. During the lesson, the phone of one of our classmates (though I am ashamed to mention their name), who was among the Taliban, rang. The ringtone 🎵 was one of the songs the Taliban themselves listen to but forbid others from hearing. Our teacher said, “Please turn it off! Let’s get used to it—soon we will hear such songs often.”

The class ended, and at the end, with some of our classmates who were not just classmates but friends, family, and more, bound by pure sincerity, we decided to take a photo together 📸. We all looked distressed, but outwardly, we were full of energy and smiles 😊. We took a picture as a keepsake of the best period of our lives, unaware that it would be our last picture together 🥲.

Moments later, news reached us that the Taliban had taken Kabul. We saw our friends terrified and panicked, and we too became witnesses to such a day. It felt like the Day of Judgment; everyone was trying to save themselves and their loved ones ❤️. Fear and horror filled every heart.

With a group of friends and classmates, we went to the gate 🚪 of the women’s dormitory to assist our female classmates who were travelers. It was in such moments that the true friends revealed themselves. I am truly grateful 🙏 to those who stayed with us until the last moment and checked on us.

After some time at the dormitory gate and trying to help our friends, I had to leave with my close friend to go home 🏠, as my family was worried—especially fearing that we might not find transportation 🚗 and end up in an even more dangerous situation, since no one knew how the Taliban would treat women in particular.

Our transport could not come. When we left the university, it was hard to even find a vehicle. After much difficulty, moving from one vehicle to another, we finally reached Sarai Shamali. The city was in chaos—people were running, each trying to save their own life and find a safe place. The image of my suffering people will never leave my mind. Oh my people, my fellow countrymen, my friends, my family… how we endured such trials 😔 that we never deserved. The grief and fear on all your faces will forever remain in my memory.

When we arrived at Sarai Shamali, we were told that Taliban forces had also come from the Kotal side and blocked the road 🚧. I went to my uncle’s house, and moments later, my father also came from his office to the same place. It was a tense situation—my family worried, my friends worried, the people worried, the entire nation worried.

Later that afternoon, my father hired a car 🚖 and we set off for home. Everywhere I looked, there were strange people with strange appearances, exploiting the situation. There were also thugs taking advantage of the Taliban’s name to instill even more fear.

Not long after, just a few steps away from me, I heard the sound of a gunshot 🔫 fired from behind at the soldiers of a commander whose house in our alley was being attacked. In short, by the time we reached home, we had experienced countless different incidents and tensions.

In the four years since their arrival, the people have been torn apart 💔, families broken, Afghanistan dismantled. Everyone became unemployed, and we were separated from our loved ones 😢. Many fled to foreign lands in search of a brighter future ✨ and to save their lives. Now, Afghanistan has taken on a different color—the former joy and enthusiasm are gone; perhaps it has taken on the color black ⚫.

On the anniversary of Afghanistan’s four years in captivity ⛓️, my condolences 🕊️ to all.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* it is a pseudonym.