Homaira

My name is Homaira. I left Afghanistan when I was probably three years old—too young to understand what exile, war, persecution or being a refugee meant.

All I knew were the streams where I played and built tiny mud houses with my hands, the proud mountains, the orchards, and the night sky filled with stars above my village.

I didn't know I was leaving behind more than a home. I was leaving behind a childhood that war and displacement would never let me return to, and memories that would become the roots I would carry across every border.

My journey took me from Afghanistan to Pakistan, from Pakistan to Indonesia, and eventually to Canada, always in search of peace, security and dignity. It took more than twenty years before I finally found a place where I could feel safe enough to call home.

But now I realise that home isn't really a place.

Home lives in the memories I carry, in the people who walked beside me, and in the moments of love and courage that kept me going through every border I crossed.

Growing up with fear

My parents fled Afghanistan because they feared persecution, hoping that Pakistan would be a safe refuge.

But the persecution followed us there.

As Hazaras and Shia Muslims, we were systematically targeted by extremist groups. I remember my education being interrupted by bomb blasts in our area. I remember shattered windows, cracks in the walls, streets covered in blood, and terrified people searching for their loved ones.

I still hear the echoes of mothers screaming their children's names.

And then the silence that followed—the heavy silence, as if life itself had stopped breathing.

Eventually, we fled again, this time to Indonesia.

Indonesia gave us safety from bullets and bombs, but life as a refugee came with another kind of uncertainty. I could not go to school or work, and there was no clear pathway to building the future I wanted.

For years, I lived in a kind of limbo.

Finding my voice

But I refused to see myself as a burden.

I knew I wanted to contribute. I wanted to learn, to give back and to find a way to use my experiences for something meaningful.

That was when my path crossed with Same Skies.

Over the years, I became a volunteer teacher, an interpreter, an advocate and, eventually, a co-founder and project manager of the Jakarta Bersatu Project.

I learned about teamwork, leadership, self-care and community organising. Most importantly, I became more confident in my own ability to take an idea and turn it into action.

The Transformative Leadership in Action programme was particularly important to me. It gave me the opportunity to design and run a grassroots initiative from scratch—something created for and with my own refugee community.

For the first time, I really began to see myself as a leader.

Carrying it with me

Eventually, my journey took me to Canada.

Today, I am in my second year at one of Canada's top universities, pursuing my dream of studying law.

For more than two decades, I was never able to take education for granted. Every time I sit in a classroom and listen to a lecture, I feel a quiet sense of grace and gratitude.

But even as I embrace this new life, I often ask myself:

Am I truly free when so many of my friends remain trapped in limbo?

What does freedom mean when millions of refugees still live without rights, education or dignity? What does it mean when girls and women in Afghanistan are denied the opportunity to study and pursue their dreams?

I carry their voices with me every day.

What comes next

I've learned that change begins when we refuse to stay silent.

My experiences have given me a voice, but they have also given me a responsibility to use it—not only for myself, but for people who are still unheard.

I don't know exactly where my journey will take me next. I know that I want to study law, continue learning and find ways to contribute to a world where people are able to live with freedom and dignity.

I spent much of my life searching for a place to call home.

Now I think home is something I carry with me.

And wherever I go, I want to carry the people and experiences that shaped me too.