Afghanistan, Land of Invincible Women Resolute in the Face of Tragedy

If you’re a woman born and raised in Afghanistan, you live in war against nearly everything in life. Too often, even from your very first breath outside the womb, you are not really welcomed by your own family—or if you’re blessed with good parents, society and certain people’s mindsets work to steal the smile from your face.

Afghanistan is the home of so many broken dreams. As a woman, you’re told every step of the way about the things you can’t do. So many things are labeled as forbidden, as bad and evil—but only for girls and women. Your struggles, your dreams, your goals, your plans for life never warrant attention because a woman is only for marriage, they say. This marriage has a huge effect on your life, yet unfortunately, many Afghan women are not blessed with good life partners.

A 34-year-old Afghan woman, Karima Sakhi, was just past her teenage years when she fell madly in love with a man who was different from everyone, a man with a unique personality and who was loyal to his friends. She is among the very few fortunate Afghan women who get to marry by love and by choice.

In nine years of marriage to Aliakbar Sakhi, Karima became a mother of three sons: Adyan (8 years old), Aayan (5 years old), and Rohan (2 years old). A well-known and accomplished Afghan mountaineer and founder of HikeVentures, in 2020 Aliakbar led the first all-Afghan team to climb Noshaq, Afghanistan’s highest mountain.

As two people with lives centered around commitment, dreams, and passions, Karima and Aliakbar made a strong team. While Aliakbar was out setting records, climbing the world’s peaks, and chasing his dreams, in part to build a new, stronger Afghanistan for his sons, Karima was home raising their children.

“It is my duty as [a] mother I believe,” she said. “It was our decision to bring them down from heaven. We invited them here, and it’s our responsibility to serve them expecting nothing in return. If we do our job properly, we will bring up gentlemen to the society.” She is passionate about healthy relationships between parents and children: parents who are committed to their children yet who don’t pressure their children to fulfill the parents’ desires. Instead, she says, parents can live a balanced, healthy, happy life of fully caring for their children while also pursuing their own dreams.

Aliakbar’s adventurous work meant that their children “are very used to having their mother around all the time,” Karima said. “Their father wasn’t home much, so they only feel the presence of their mother.” But Aliakbar didn’t take her work at home for granted, instead holding his wife in high esteem, regularly telling her she was the best decision of his life. The two of them each had someone on whose shoulder they could rest their head.

But in life, nothing is constant. And too many Afghan women know that as an Afghan woman, you’re falling to your face in the game of life all the time.

On June 13, Aliakbar set out on his biggest quest yet. He set out to climb K2, the world’s second highest peak. The family had relocated from Afghanistan to Pakistan so that, among other things, Aliakbar could pursue this big dream, determined not to be held back by the upheaval that followed when the Taliban regained control of Afghanistan the previous August. While he had hoped he would be on this expedition with other HikeVentures members, that was impossible, so he decided to climb anyway—on behalf of his hope for his country and for his sons’ future. He wanted to set a record as the first Afghan to climb K2 and raise the former flag of Afghanistan’s Islamic Republic on the summit.

But not so long after his expedition began, the story took a turn on July 21, and Karima’s life was changed once and for all.

Karima describes receiving the news of her husband’s death on K2.

Afghan women’s bravery is something the world can write books on and still enough will not be written. Eyes filled with tears and voice cracking, Karima said, “I will not be able to give fatherly love to my children, but I’ll make sure to nurture my children the same way my husband, Aliakbar, would’ve wanted. I’ll raise them to love their country as their father did. I’ll become one superwoman for my children and will make sure they never feel hopeless in life.”

One week after Aliakbar’s death, during my very first visit to Karima, she had yet to tell her kids about what had happened to their father. She was still on the verge of figuring things out and accepting the truth that she was now a single parent herself.

When I came to visit them a second time a couple weeks later, she had by then spoken to her eldest—a boy so much like her husband in appearance and personality and interests—about how his father is never returning.

One thing I kept hearing from Karima was, “I’m a strong woman, I’m really strong.” Sometimes it seemed she was trying to convince herself, and other times she was simply a new single mother who didn’t yet have hold of things or know what to do other than to be brave, resilient, and gracefully vulnerable.

I asked Karima where she sees herself and her life with her kids in 10 years. Her response was that she expects to at least get herself out of the situation she’s in now, dealing with the administrative and emotional aftermath of unexpected tragedy. Hope beaming in her eyes, she said, “My husband Aliakbar’s body has not yet been brought down, but if I’m being honest with you, I still have some hope in my heart. I feel like if they bring him down and I grab his hand, it will be warm, he will grab my hand back.” After a few seconds of silence and sobbing, she said, “Whenever I put my hand on Aliakbar’s hand, he used to hold my hand back. He used to say, ‘[As long as] I’m alive, I’m always with you.’”

It takes so much strength and courage for a heart that has been through a lot to keep hope alive. There are millions of Karimas in Afghanistan, not many of them the world will hear of, but they wake up every single day and continue to set the standard for the younger generation. Life will never be kind to Afghan women, but they aren’t soft, bendable, or breakable either.

Afghanistan can be many things, but never the homeland of the weak.

Editor’s Note: While the journalist who wrote this story did not know the Sakhi family before taking on this assignment for Anthrow Circus, Aliakbar Sakhi and his family are friends of our editor. Thus, his loss is a personal grief for the Anthrow Circus family. We regret to report that due to the difficult terrain at such a high elevation, Aliakbar Sakhi’s body was not recovered before the 2022 K2 climbing season closed.

Aliakbar Sakhi Pursued His Dreams for His Country to the End

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