6 July 2025 – On the Road Back from Nimroz Province
By: Sabghatullah Alam, Field Officer at Saifrood Unity and Aid Organization (SUAO)
While returning from a field mission to assess the conditions of Afghan migrants deported from Iran to Nimroz province, I met a fellow traveler whose story will remain etched in my memory. A young man named Ali—dignified, polite, and filled with a strength born from deep suffering. His face showed exhaustion from the road, but his eyes glowed like hidden flames in the heart of darkness. From the very first glance, I could sense there was a storm within him—silent, but full of pain.
As the scorching desert wind blew dust across the sky, Ali began to speak—a story that felt more like a silent scream rising from the depths of endless agony.
With a trembling yet steady voice, he said:
“It was midnight. I was exhausted from work, my body aching, my eyelids heavy with sleep. Suddenly, Iranian officers stormed into the room without warning or question. I didn’t even have time to gather my clothes or belongings. They tied my hands, forced me into a vehicle with verbal abuse, and took me to the migrant detention center… no money, no water, no food.”
A short silence followed, but Ali continued—firmly, without his voice breaking, as if he had relived this story countless times in his mind.
“Halls built for a hundred people were packed with over four hundred. There was no space to breathe. The heat was unbearable. One by one, the weak and sick collapsed. No one listened to our protests. We weren’t even allowed to ask for a sip of water. The only thing we could do was wait and pray—pray to a God who was our only witness.”
He added:
“After 24 hours of detention in that hell, they extorted five million Iranian tomans per person to transfer us to the Islam Qala or Milak borders. If someone didn’t have the money, they had to beg from fellow detainees. Otherwise, they were beaten by the guards. Once the payment was made, we were searched. Mobile phones with photos or videos from inside Iran were smashed, and their owners were brutally beaten.”
Ali paused again, stared into the distance, and murmured:
“When we finally reached the border, they expelled us with degrading words: ‘Afghani, get lost! Don’t come back! Filth…’”
As Ali finished his story, tears welled up in both our eyes. Yet he, like a mountain, stood tall despite all the wounds. He raised his voice in gratitude to God for surviving that nightmare.
I, Sabghatullah Alam, field officer with Saifrood Unity and Aid Organization (SUAO), who had come to Nimroz to assess the conditions of returnees, became a fellow traveler with this young man on my way back to Herat. Ali went on toward Ghazni, and I continued to Herat… but the memory of his eyes, his words, and his resilience will stay in my heart forever.