There’s so much I wish I could tell people about me, like the fact that my dad doesn’t know how old he is (in Afghanistan they didn’t used to record birthdays), or that every day I am thankful to be living in a democratic state. I was naturalised as a British citizen when I was very young; being a Londoner is all I have ever known since the age of three. But there’s lots of little things that I adore which British-born citizens often overlook.

I’ve been back to Kabul, where I was born, since settling in the UK. There is no sewage system, no waste management systems, no rule of law. People burn their garbage in the middle of the street. If you want to send a letter, you can’t because there’s no postal delivery system. Visiting a friend’s home for the first time? Good luck trying to find a map that helps you navigate locations; homes don’t even have door numbers. As aesthetically pleasing as some places were to visit, travelling to Afghanistan at an early age opened my eyes and gave me perspective. It’s one thing to read about democracy in a textbook, it’s another to experience first-hand how its manifestation can alter the fabric of one’s existence.

Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Show all 20 1 /20 Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Nooria*, 15 in the home her family has lived in for the past two years in Mazar-i Sharif She was forced to flee her home with her family after their town was attacked by armed groups. Nooria describes a rocket hitting her neighbours home killing many inside. They fled on foot with just the clothes on their backs and she now lives in Mazari Shariff where Save the Children have enrolled her in school and provide vocational training Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Nooria* hopes for a future with no war; "When they attacked our village, the rocket hit our neighbour's house and they all died. Our house then caught fire and we ran away. My friends who I used to play with - I still don't know if they are alive or if they are dead.” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict “I'm hoping for a better future, to learn, to support my family and to get them out of this difficult life. And I'm hoping for a future where there is no war.” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Naveed*, 16 at his family home in Mazar-i Sharif Naveed lost his leg when he stepped on a mine aged just 8-years-old. He was herding the family's sheep in the mountains near their home when he triggered a landmine Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict After months of medical treatment his right leg was eventually amputated. He received physiotherapy and a prosthetic leg from the International Committee for the Red Cross in Mazar Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Now enrolled in school, Naveed is being given vocational training by Save the Children. “For around a year I felt and dreamt that I still had my leg. But when I woke up and saw, there was no leg. Sometimes I’d feel with my hand to check and find it wasn't there.” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict “If someone has loses their leg, it does not mean that they have lost their mind." Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict "With the help of our minds we can continue to study, learn, and work to make the future of our families brighter.” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Naveed and Mahboob*, 55 (Naveed's father) Several years ago Neveed's father, Mahboob, was brutally beaten with rifle butts by armed groups after, he says, he failed to provide food for them while they were stationed in the family's village. He suffered brain damage which affected the right side of his body, speech and his brain function Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Habiba*, 14, and Arezo*, 15 in a village outside Kabul Habiba and Arezo were injured with their mother three years ago in a suicide bombing in Kabul. Arezo is still traumatised from what she saw and has become completely withdrawn Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Arezo's younger sister Habiba cares for her, takes her to lessons and anywhere she wants to go. They are both in school through Save the Children's 'Steps towards Afghan girls' education success' (STAGES) programme, which helps the most marginalised girls get access to education, stay in school and learn. Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Habiba says: “When I woke up and I opened my eyes I saw lots of bodies and I thought I was not alive any more. It was horrible. I'll never forget that. Whenever there is a big sound she gets scared because she was traumatised by the sound she heard during the attack. I love my sister, and I help her with her lessons, I take her anywhere." Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict "She's older than me but I feel like the older one because I support her. I hope for a better future for me and my sister.” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Khalida*, 10 in a classroom in a village outside Kabul Two years ago Khalida lost her 18-year old brother when he was killed in an explosion in Kabul. She misses him every day and says the family are still carrying the grief of his loss Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict "Two years ago, my brother was going to Kabul when an explosion happened and he lost his life. We are still carrying the grief and are crying over him. At the time we were happy, everyone was happy. Now no-one is happy in the family. When I remember him, I cry and feel so bad. I hope for peace and that war will stop, and that nobody loses their brother” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict “I want to get education to become a teacher. I want to teach others who have never been to school” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Sema*,11 at her family home in Kabul Sema recalls coming home from her aunt's house and being told that her father had been killed in a suicide attack Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict Sema still thinks about him every second and likes to look at his prayer beads (Tisbeh) to remember him. They hang from the curtain in the family home. She loves school and wants to become a teacher one day. Sema says she wants peace in her country to stop other children losing their fathers. “We still have lots of his belongings, like his car, his clothes, his watch, his shoes. Whenever we see them we cry. He gave us all so much love every moment and he is on our minds. I want for the powerful people around the world to stop the war and bring peace, because I don't want other children to lose their fathers.” Andrew Quilty/Save the Children Afghanistan war: lives of children devastated by the endless conflict “I want to become a teacher to serve the country and I don't want any girls to be illiterate. I want to teach all the girls, so they have access to education.” *Names have been changed to protect identities Andrew Quilty/Save the Children

I’ve had to grapple with a lot of different aspects of myself, at times I find I am still coming to terms with myself. The British side of me is over-polite, loves roast dinner, and frequently engages in banter. Growing up, Afghan culture taught me to become a gift-giver, Afghans have a tradition where they do not visit the home of another person without bringing a gift, whether it’s fruit or clothes. I still find myself giving gifts to people randomly at work for no particular reason, or to my friends, not knowing how to explain to them that it is a programmed response.

There are more sinister parts of my identity. For example, I wouldn’t dare to disclose to another Afghan that I am an atheist. In fact, I would rather say that I am from another country just to avoid the conversation altogether. It is a fear that I have, being attacked for my belief system, or lack thereof. Once I realised at age 17 that I was an atheist, I began to understand my purpose a lot better. I no longer felt lost or at war with the nature of reality. Now when I experience the first few stages of lust, for example, I don’t see it as magic, I know its evolutionary biology prompting a cascade of chemicals. When I centre myself, I don’t feel I am connecting to a higher power, instead I know that neural network integration is at work. Or if I ever experience bad luck, I can take accountability and put it down to my own actions, not superstition. Atheism helps me achieve equanimity amid the flux. More importantly, it has allowed me to seek explanations of the natural world through science, to refine my facilities by learning and debating and it has given me the groundwork to insight into the human condition.

Another factor that can be quite tricky to manoeuvre is coming to terms with the fact that being a child of immigrants makes me extremely vulnerable. There is no safety net if something were to go wrong, no strong family lineage to fall back on, no real support system. This has made me particularly mentally strong.

It’s weird, the things which ought to ostensibly cause disturbance within me have actually spurred me to become more motivated than ever. For example, knowing that I have nobody to fall back on, to rely on or carry me, is probably the reason why I am a self-starter. I got into my master’s program at the age of 21 after graduating with a first-class honours. I had lived in three different continents by the time I was 25. I wonder if any of this would have happened if I was not an outsider, a child of immigrants, a woman; I always felt I had more to prove than others.

Every day I am grateful for encountering science, humanism, reason and the grace of literature. My life would be completely different had my parents chosen to settle in Kabul. I would likely be illiterate, prohibited from working, sadder even – I might never have encountered Bukowski, neuroscience or stoicism.

I can’t begin to describe how much I adore the little parts of living in London. Every time I pick up free newspapers, I think about how much it means to have access to knowledge so readily, it is truly a luxury that we take for granted. I can walk for five minutes and find my local bank, buy a fresh croissant with a contactless card and enter one of London’s many public libraries. We take employment laws for granted too. Having lived and worked in China, I was overworked, mistreated and subjected to gross employment abuses that I couldn’t report, as it is considered disrespectful to dispute orders in China. And this all happened to me while I was working at one of the most prestigious private Universities in Guangzhou. But these experiences remind me of the beauty of rule of law. Upholding democracy is our strength in the west, and we need to stop shying away from being vocal about our triumphs.

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Nonetheless, while British citizens have access to a number of privileges that they often take for granted, challenges to democracy do exist. There is still a crisis in our polity – the norms of our political and electoral culture that has parties at its centre. Many would argue that it is now approaching full-scale collapse in the midst of Brexit. While parliament insists on a bill to stop a no-deal Brexit, there are some who describe our nation as broken.

The overall point here is that we all benefit from democracy, those of us in the western world, and to overlook the little luxuries is the cause of a lot of discontent within most people. One of my favourite Stoic philosophers, Epictetus, once said “Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.’’ I really believe that to be happy means to live in eternal gratitude for everything, even the little stuff. When did it become fashionable to be a cynic? I find nothing noble or admirable about constant complaint and judgement. If only we spent more time rejoicing and celebrating the richness of life.