A Life Rebuilt: my father’s story
May 27, 2026
Young man on horseback, Afghanistan
Aleena Seddighi recounts her father’s journey from war-torn Afghanistan to London
Have you ever been put in a situation where you had to leave everything behind? Your family, your childhood, your education, everything. You were forced to take a big step, a big decision, that completely changed your life, and will forever be a memory etched into your mind.
This my father’s story, who came to London in 2000, as a 26-year-old refugee from Kabul, Afghanistan. It’s a country torn apart by decades of Soviet occupation and Taliban rule, that left its people with little choice but to flee in search of a better life. It’s a story that reminds us why, in a diverse city like London, we need to listen to and understand each other’s histories.
A short history of Afghanistan:
In 1979, the Soviets invaded Afghanistan. They had already taken over the neighbouring countries of Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, which meant Afghanistan now bordered the USSR. Unfortunately, this military takeover led to the rise of an extremist group known as the Mujahideen, who joined forces with the US to fight the USSR. The war continued for 10 years, until the Soviets realised their losses and left the country war torn.
My father was born in Kabul, in an area called Diburi. Originally, his family are from Paghman, a nearby town known for its beautiful mountains, lush gardens and cooler climate. He would often go on trips there, as it was a perfect place for a picnic with the family. Afghan people are known for their hospitality and in his neighbourhood, there was a close-knit community, a sense of belonging, where everyone knew each other and would eat dinner and breakfast together.
My dad described his childhood as “happy times’’; he would play with kites, marbles and other street games with the rest of the children. He came from a large family, of which he was the youngest, with five sisters, two brothers, grandparents, brother-in-laws, nephews, nieces and parents. Everyone lived together and life was good. Suddenly, in 1979, war broke out and his childhood was stripped away from him.
“War changed everything’’ were his words when I asked how had impacted his family life. The family were separated, some of his sisters fled, everyone went to different countries, and different cities. My father mentioned that due to his age, at seven, he was not aware of the toll war had on the family. However, he has now realised “it was a disaster’’. There were many financial problems; at times they ate only bread and potatoes for both dinner and breakfast, as meat was seen as a luxury they could not afford.
One of the happiest, yet most bittersweet times of his life was July 5th 2009, when his first child was born (me)
Fortunately, when my dad came to London twenty-one years later, his cousins had already settled here, so he had a place to stay. However, life in Europe was very different to back home in Afghanistan. The freedoms and opportunities and everyday life were a shock to my father.
He told me language barriers were difficult, as his education had been cut short by the war and he hadn’t had the chance to learn much, let alone other languages.
My dad shared a very close relationship with his parents, and leaving them was one of the hardest parts of starting over. Without them there physically to support him, it was a struggle to find a way to live life again. However, he pushed through and made a living for himself.
Finding work was hard for my father, given that he couldn’t speak English or understand the way life worked in London. His first job was delivering newspapers door to door; there was no need to speak to anyone and he could simple do his rounds. Luckily, reuniting with his extended family, he felt part of a community again.
Leaving Afghanistan all alone was a big decision, but one that transformed his life.
One of the happiest, yet most bittersweet times of his life was July 5th 2009, when his first child was born (me). My dad says this was one of the proudest and happiest days of his life. He held me all day long, playing with my hands and ears, admiring God’s creation. It marked the beginning of parenthood for both my mother and father. However, just days later, on the 26th of July 2009, my grandad unexpectedly passed away. He was a healthy and active 60-year-old man, loved by everyone, especially my father.
My dad recalls those moments as devastating. The second he got that phone call from back home at around 2 am, he knew something was wrong. Screams came through the phone and sadness filled the air. He immediately booked a ticket to Afghanistan that same day. Afghanistan is not a direct flight from London, and the journey was long and distressing.
I asked my dad what he was most proud of. He didn’t hesitate:
“I am most proud of where I have come, of the fact that I provided a better life for my children, that you guys have the chance to study and pursue your dreams. I never had this chance, my life was broken, it was damaged. I had to work extremely hard for where I stand now, for everything that I buy myself and you guys. I am financially stable; I have a job. I am proud of my journey here and what I have become.”
Thanks to my father, I am entitled to a free life, far away from war. I look up to him as my role model every day and am always stunned by the stories he tells me. War is trauma, and something that you will never be able to understand until you experience it first-hand. This is an account of a young boy’s journey, of how war affected his life and shaped his transition into manhood. He is a survivor and a fighter and will always be the greatest man in my eyes.
