My relationship with Peshawar has been hatred on first sight. I was 6 years old when I visited the city for the first time and confronted the heat, the pollution and the tense environment that compelled women to cover each inch of their body and stay indoors. It was 1989 and I vowed never to return. I have repeated and broken the same vow every year ever since. Peshawar always finds an excuse to pull me back – funerals, weddings, and escape from the Taliban capturing my city in Northern Afghanistan...
As time passed I adapted to the heat, pollution and the oppressive environment – I even swapped my scarf with a full on hijab that covers everything except my hands and my feet. But as I grew up another dynamic of the city started to bother me that is it’s deceptive and confusing nature.
