Esther*, who was born in Afghanistan and raised in the Netherlands after her family fled the country when she was three, speaks to Christian Today about her journey of faith, life between two cultures, and her hopes and fears for Afghanistan’s future. A new Christian, she reflects on the challenges of finding belonging in Europe and the burden of watching her homeland from afar.
*Name has been changed for security reasons.
CT: You were born in Afghanistan but raised in the Netherlands since you were three. What do you know or remember about why your family had to leave, and how has that shaped your sense of identity?
Esther: The country was becoming increasingly dangerous to live in, and there was no more future or hope to be had. It wasn’t for religious reasons; it’s just not a place you want to stay in, especially if the government is transforming into something that you are against. In Afghanistan, it’s dangerous to be against the government – you can’t criticise them and make it out alive.
We came here when I was almost three and we settled in a small town that was mainly white, especially back then. I looked different. We ate different foods, watched different movies, listened to different music.
I never really knew where I belonged, because I didn’t feel 100 per cent as if I belonged. I wasn’t the average Afghan, because I was growing up in the West. But in the West, I also didn’t completely feel like I was Dutch, because I wasn’t and I was constantly reminded of it.
I was never bullied or anything, but you can tell by looking around that you are different. And so, I never really had an identity or somewhere I really belonged – I was always in between places.
CT: Growing up in the Netherlands, do you still feel connected to Afghanistan — its culture, language, or people?
Esther: I definitely do, especially to the women because that could have been me if we didn’t make it out. I could have had that life and even been dead or just trapped in that country. So, I feel for them and I want to help them, even though I don’t know how.
At the same time, because I’m Christian it’s hard to feel part of that country because the religion is not accepted. As an example, one time I was online and I commented on someone’s reel. A Pashtun man from Afghanistan saw the comment and started cursing me, calling me names and accusing me of trading my religion for a passport, because he thought I should be Muslim and not Christian.
It’s hard to feel like you can be part of Afghanistan when they’re not accepting of you and you don’t feel like you can be yourself. So, I am careful with who knows about me being Christian and who doesn’t.
CT: You became a Christian only last year. Can you share what led you to faith in Jesus?
Esther: It’s funny because I never know how to answer that question, because obviously people are curious and they expect me to be Muslim. But I never felt at home in Islam. It felt very distant and like it’s a God to fear, otherwise you’re going to go to hell.
With Christianity, there was a feeling in the very core of my soul that told me to find a church. I became more of a whole person because, like I said, I never had an identity and by the time I finally knew who I was, that feeling of finding Jesus became stronger. The more I became whole, the more I felt like I should be seeking Him and I knew that it should be Christianity.
CT: How did your family and friends respond?
Esther: I’m lucky to have a family that aren’t extremists. Some don’t believe in anything really and the rest of my family is mostly Muslim, but not radical.
At the moment, only some of my family know I am a Christian as I haven’t told everyone yet. It’s not out of fear but more because I don’t want to disappoint them because I know they would prefer me to be Muslim – because my grandfather, who passed away a couple of years ago, was Muslim and it was really important to him; he wouldn’t have wanted me to be Christian.
But my family do accept who I am and they won’t force anything on me; they won’t cut contact with me or be violent or anything like that. And I know if my grandfather would have been alive, he wouldn’t have been hateful. He would have been like, ‘Okay, I don’t like it, but I can’t do anything about it either.’
At the end of the day, it’s my life. You can’t force religion on people. You can’t make them believe something that they don’t. I’ve never actually been Muslim, but I gave it a shot. I tried – I tried to be Muslim. I researched and explored the religion to see if it was something I wanted to pursue but it just didn’t feel right to me at all. It didn’t feel like me and that’s why I didn’t pursue it anymore.
CT: Being from a Middle Eastern background and now living in Europe, have you ever felt isolated — culturally or spiritually — and how have you found belonging as a new believer?
Esther: Yeah, I always felt isolated, I just didn’t know it. Growing up, I knew some of the boundaries being Afghan, but I never knew why, because they don’t talk about that. They just tell you how it is, but they don’t tell you why it is like that. So, I started to rebel against that because if you can’t make sense of something, you don’t want to deal with it, and you start making your own rules.
In terms of spiritual community since coming to faith, well, it’s still growing. The church does evenings for young people and if they notice you not going to church for a while, they send you messages to check in on you, which is nice. When I went through a bad break-up, the church was there for me. I went to talk to the priest about it and that helped me a lot. It was like God speaking to me through him and telling me, “Trust Me, this is for your own good.” That really helped me.
I also joined an online study group to connect with more like-minded people. The world is so secular now, especially in the Netherlands. A lot of women don’t believe – I never noticed this until I became a Christian and it kind of shocks me. I don’t know what happened, like what went wrong? A lot of women are feminists but the West doesn’t need feminists; Afghanistan needs feminists.
CT: Has your new faith changed the way you see your Afghan heritage or your connection to your homeland?
Esther: Islam is so tightly knit to Afghanistan that there is no more space for anything else, but there is a danger of associating with something to such an extent that you start forcing it on other people. Christianity is my identity but that doesn’t mean I should force everyone else to be Christian. It’s not my job to force anyone else to do what I want, but that is how political structures like radical Islam are used in Afghanistan and Iran.
Something I can see now is the danger of an Afghan heritage. You have to be Muslim and if you’re not, even if in the West it’s not safe. Sometimes Islam feels like a cult you can’t get out of safely. People can still – if they find out – be violent or at least have an opinion. It’s so hard for people to think, ‘She made her choice. That’s her choice, that’s her decision. We don’t have a right to do anything against that or say something bad.’
I’m pretty sure if I were to wear traditional Afghan clothing and a cross necklace, that would be a death sentence. It’s as if you can’t be Afghan and Christian at the same time and make it out alive, and there’s just something very wrong about that. I will never understand what makes them think that God would want us to be like that towards anyone.
CT: What are your hopes when you think about Christians and the future of your country?
Esther: I hope that Christians there can someday be safe and practise their religion freely; that they will be free to make their own decisions and not do something that is forced upon them. Because right now, a lot of them say, ‘I’m Muslim because I have to be,’ but I wonder how many of them actually read the Holy Book and actually know what’s in it.
Even speaking about democracy in Afghanistan at the moment seems so utopian, like such an impossibility, but I continue to hope that one day they will be free – especially the women because right now they’re not allowed to do anything and men control everything they do. They can’t even go outside without a man, they have to cover up who they are, and they have little choice but to be married off to someone probably much older that they didn’t even choose, and be a housewife for the rest of their life. That sounds like a horrible life to me and it makes me very sad.
I have cousins there and they’re such sweet girls, but they will never have the opportunities and the freedom and the love for life that was given to me. They do go outside every once in a while, but not to school, and they will be very dependent on who they marry. It’s just sad. In the West I get to choose my husband.
Some people in the West use their freedom to become some kind of Bonnie Blue figure, but we should choose to do something good with that freedom, something godly, something holy.
CT: Is there anything you fear?
Esther: That it won’t change or that it will become even worse than it is now. For a long time, I avoided anything Afghanistan-related in the news because it was just infuriating to me but I’ve come to that point now that I can’t shut my eyes to it anymore, and I can start talking about it.
CT: Finally, what would you like Christians around the world to pray for — both for Afghanistan and for Afghan believers living abroad?
Esther: Pray not only for Afghanistan but for everyone to have a choice as God intended. He gave everyone free will and He did that for a reason, but at the moment half the people on the planet don’t even have free will. I think it’s a basic human right and spiritual right to have free will. So, pray for that – that everyone can have that and choose themselves what they want to do with their soul.
And also pray that there would be the framework in place so that people would know what is right and what is wrong, and then make a choice because right now, no one even knows what’s right or wrong anymore and everyone’s so confused.
What I also noticed in the political field right now is that everyone’s pointing fingers at the other. But even the monsters in Afghanistan think they’re doing the right thing so I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere by yelling at people or condemning them or telling them they’re stupid. That’s why the New Testament says, pray for your enemies and forgive your enemies. If you want to fight, that’s the only way to fight.