The Afghan refugees interviewed by The Durham Voice requested that only their first names be published to not interfere with their asylum cases.

Five years ago, four Afghan teenagers — Tabasum, Khatera, Emal and Fatima — had nothing in common but a badge and a uniform.

Their stories begin in different parts of Afghanistan, but they converge in Durham, tied together by fear, resilience and an organization that changed their lives.

Afghan Scouts Durham was founded by a former Afghan Scout with one goal: help the girls and boys they left behind. Since then, the group has helped nearly 30 former members of the Afghan Scouts — the Afghanistan branch of the World Organization of the Scout Movement — find safety in the United States. But the mission remains unfinished.

Tabasum, the organization’s 18-year-old founder, is caught in immigration limbo.

While her sister, Khatera, was granted asylum less than six months after arriving in the United States, Tabasum has spent the past two years living on a temporary student visa.

“She’s more safe than I am because of just having an asylum,” said Tabasum, who opted to use her first name only to protect her asylum processing. “I feel like it’s much harder for me because her future is more certain, and then she’s going to get her permanent residency pretty soon.”

Now, as Khatera begins to build a future in America, Tabasum, Emal and Fatima are unsure if the country that saved them will ever become home.

 

Before & After

Tabasum and Khatera live ten minutes apart in a quiet Durham suburb. The distance barely spans over a few miles — a luxury they weren’t granted just a year before.

“I had a really happy life before the Taliban took over,” said Tabasum.

In Afghanistan, the two girls, like Emal and Fatima, spent much of their childhood immersed in Afghan Scouts. Their mother served as a scout leader, often bringing them to the capital where their involvement in the organization placed them in increasingly public spaces.

Tabasum, in particular, had already stepped into the spotlight. An outspoken advocate for women’s rights and a member of the national choir, she once performed in front of Afghanistan’s former president and regularly delivered speeches to activist groups, becoming a recognizable young voice in those circles.

Khatera was beginning her first year of law school – a choice that was not hers, but instead a placement she was given.

But in 2021, the two girls fled Afghanistan after Kabul, the capital, was overtaken by the Taliban.

After the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks, the United States invaded Afghanistan, toppled the Taliban and helped establish a new government backed by international forces. But the Taliban — an extremist Islamic militant organization — strengthened over the next several decades as foreign aid weakened. 

That fragile government collapsed in August 2021, when Taliban forces seized Kabul.

“I had to leave my country because I was facing a lot of stress because I used to be a public figure and do a lot of public speaking before the Taliban,” said Tabasum.

Because of her public profile as a young woman, Tabasum began receiving threats. Her sister, Khatera, was also targeted — slated for a forced marriage at just 21 years old, a tactic the Taliban has used to silence women.

As active members of the Afghan Scouts since they were young, the two girls were eligible for assistance from the Afghan Scouts Relief Fund. With the organization’s help the two girls were granted visas and sought refuge in Pakistan. 

“During that time I was improving my English and applying for schools in the United States until I got a full scholarship from Emerson Waldorf School,” Tabasum said.

Khatera was just 16 when she fled Afghanistan with her 13-year-old sister in tow.

Together, the two girls moved from house to house, staying in crowded homes filled with other female refugees. Tabasum spent two years in Pakistan before her F-1 student visa was approved. Once it was granted, she made her way to the United States, leaving Khatera behind.

A year later, Khatera followed, arriving at Lynchburg University in Virginia after earning a full-ride scholarship and securing her own F-1 student visa.

Six months after landing in America, Khatera was granted asylum status, marking her life as drastically different from Tabasum’s.

Now, Tabasum is the one left behind. 

 

The Value of Asylum

American asylum protects individuals who cannot return to their home country for fear of persecution. It is a step above an F-1 student visa, which is a nonimmigrant visa that allows foreign nationals to study full-time at any accredited school in America.

While both classifications grant foreign individuals the legal right to remain in the United States, the difference can be life and death for Afghan Scouts.

“I can’t go back to Afghanistan because of all the threats that I had been facing,” Tabasum said.

Emal is a former Afghan Scout who attends Guilford Technical Community College to earn skills as an aircraft mechanic. But he dreads the day he will graduate, two years from now, when he may have to return to Afghanistan. He is still eagerly awaiting the day he receives asylum status in America.

If he does not receive Asylum, there is no home for Emal to return to. After the Taliban took over, he spent nearly a year running from brutality before his own mother forced him to flee.

Like Tabasum, his involvement with the Afghan Scouts marked him as a target because he was seen as westernized.

“I used to do some activities with the U.S. Marines during my scouting time in Afghanistan,” Emal said. “Because of that, they thought I had a Western mindset. Anyone who had worked with them for years was considered their enemy.”

Emal was deeply devoted to the Afghan Scouts and his country. He planned to one day join the Afghan Army, just like his parents and his older brother.

“I never thought to leave Afghanistan and go somewhere – to leave my parents and leave my country,” Emal said.

But in Afghanistan he was hunted mercilessly. His brother’s dismembered body was sent back to his family as a warning. His father was beaten to death in a hospital. His friend received the fatal bullet that was meant for Emal.

“My friend got shot and died because of me,” Emal said. “That’s why my mom forced me to leave Afghanistan. She already lost my older brother, she said ‘I don’t want to lose you.’”

Like Emal, Fatima left her entire family behind to find safety, a sacrifice she did not willingly make. The ASRF promised to bring her entire family to Pakistan, but Fatima was the only one who ever made it across the border.

“Two weeks before my flight they said they cannot bring my family now, but as soon as I’m in Pakistan, they will help them to come,” Fatima said. “But when I got to Pakistan, they really did not work on that at all. They said they cannot help me with that.”

At 14 years old, Fatima was on her own, with only the help of the ASRF, which quickly abandoned its beneficiaries.

“I really couldn’t go back to Afghanistan either, because it was not safe at the time,” Fatima said.

She had spent months hiding after the Taliban’s government seizure. She had a warrant out for her arrest because she was an outspoken supporter of Afghan Scouts, and her family had ties to the former government. 

She was trapped in her own house.

“I experienced that for like a year,” Fatima said. “It was really hard staying at home all day without any future, no goals, and no hope. It’s like losing your mind.”

 

Building A Lifeline

For these four refugees, there is no question: they cannot go “home.”

“When I was back in Afghanistan, I thought I would never like any place as much because I didn’t know anywhere else,” Fatima said. “But now that I’m here, I like it more. I like having access to very basic rights like education, healthcare and freedom of speech.”

Without asylum, however, there is no feasible way for them to remain in the United States.

Between Khatera’s nursing classes at Durham Technical Community College, she works in the dining hall at Duke University, unlike F-1 visa students who are typically limited to work-study positions. She drives around in a loaner car from her host parents with a license she is legally permitted to obtain through her asylum status. She is on a direct path to apply for permanent residency, and in the meantime she may qualify for government assistance programs.

None of these luxuries are granted to individuals with F-1 student visas. Not even Khatera’s little sister.

Tabasum has been waiting for asylum for over two years.

In the United States, the most recent asylum applications are processed first. As asylum backlogs increase, the likelihood of receiving it becomes slimmer. 

Due to an influx of requests and a lack of officers, the average asylum status case takes around four years to be processed and approved.

Recent policy changes have added new uncertainty to the U.S. asylum system. On Feb. 20, the Department of Homeland Security proposed requiring asylum seekers to wait 365 days to apply for a work permit, more than doubling the current 150-day waiting period.U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services has paused pending asylum applications. The pause affects applicants from 39 countries, including Afghanistan, as roughly 3.8 million asylum cases remain pending nationwide.

Applying for asylum is a daunting task, especially for Afghan teenagers who recently learned English.

“I founded the organization to raise awareness about the situation of women in Afghanistan and also help my fellow scouts,” Tabsum said.

With the assistance of her host parent, Kevin Sullivan, Tabasum has helped nearly 30 Afghan Scouts apply for asylum. Afghan Scouts Durham has also financially supported 12 students through their college careers.

“It makes me happy,” Tabasum said. “I have been through a lot myself, and I didn’t want other people to feel lost or scared.”

As the host parent for both Tabasum and Fatima, Sullivan registered ASD as a charity after realizing the girls qualified for little financial support.

The organization estimates that each refugee’s living expenses total about $30,000 a year, covering school fees, therapy, tutoring and medical and dental care. That figure does not include food, housing or the everyday costs of raising teenagers, like college application fees and phone bills.

Annually, ASD receives around $60,000 from donors — enough to cover the costs for only two of the roughly 30 students the organization supports.

Still, Sullivan says the effort has been worth it.

“Helping these amazing young people has been the privilege of a lifetime,” Sullivan said. “They’ve truly become our family.”

Despite the financial strain, Sullivan has only one hope for the students his organization supports.

“Hopefully asylum is next for everyone,” he said.

 

What Comes Next

For the four teenagers, the future is still unfolding.

To extend her F-1 student visa, Tabasum will attend Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania on a full-ride scholarship to study neuroscience. While she will once again be separated from her sister, she is grateful for the additional years of promised time together in the same country.

“It’s kind of a little bit bittersweet because now that I’m leaving for college,” Tabasum said. “And it’s a little bit sad, but I’m still happy that she is here.”

Fatima will go on to study political science at Columbia University with a full-ride scholarship. Emal will graduate from Guilford and begin applying to pilot programs. 

The four refugees will one day hold college degrees with their names emblazoned across the front, but the real finish line is being able to call America home.