Mohammad Ali R was originally from Sang Talht District in Daikundi province, central Afghanistan. In 2024, he was living in the Mahdia neighbourhood of Dast-e-Barchi, west of Kabul, with his parents and two sisters. Mohammad had a job working at a printing shop, and his family was increasingly reliant on him since the Taliban returned to power and his sisters could no longer leave the house freely. He had recently had a job interview with another company and was hopeful that he might get hired.
On the evening of 6 January, Mohammad’s family was waiting for him to get home from work. They began to get worried when he was an hour late and they hadn’t heard from him. His sister, Hajer, finished making some tea and tried to call him, but there was no answer. At this point his other sister, Somaya, checked Telegram and saw that there had been an explosion in the Qalai-e-Nazir area of Dasht-e-Barchi, west of Kabul.
Somaya and her mother covered themselves carefully, as required by the Taliban, and set out to look for Mohammad. They decided to try the hospital first, assuming that if something had happened to Mohammad, he would have been taken there.
They arrived at Jinnah Hospital, which was surrounded by a crowd of people searching for relatives. Somaya pushed her way through and found Mohammad’s name on a list of the injured posted on a wall by the hospital gate.
A Taliban guard refused to let Somaya enter the hospital, but a doctor brought her a photograph of Mohammad inside. The picture showed he had a bruised eye but otherwise looked unharmed. However, the doctor pulled Somaya aside, away from her mother, and told her that both of Mohammad’s legs had been amputated below the knee and he might not survive.
Mohammad’s father, uncle, and younger brother arrived at the hospital, and Somaya took her mother home. Around midnight she received a call from her uncle, telling her that Mohammad had died.
Mohammad was buried the following day. When his younger brother, Murtaza, heard the news, he vomited and collapsed.
Mohammad’s family remembers his smile, recalling:
‘He was cheerful, never bitter, never caused trouble. He had endured so many hardships, never even having had a childhood. We had just begun planning for him to marry, to enjoy some youth finally. But from that night when the green tea sat untouched and we waited for good news about his new job, we never saw him again—except briefly, wrapped in a shroud.’