د حقانیانو د صبر کاسه مخ په نسکوریدو ده.! د حقاني شبکې د مشر سراج الدین حقاني له خپګان او وروستیو اختلافونو وروسته د سراج الدین حقاني کشر ورور او د طالبانو د رهبري شورا غړی انس حقاني چې کله ناکله شعرونه هم لیکي په یو وروستي شعر کې یې په په دویم نیم بیتي کې (یاره ناز دې مننه دومره بس دی) او په یو بل بیت کې ازادي له توریالیو څخه واخلي نزاکت هم څه د جبر تنګ قفس دی . په شعر کې یې د حوصله پای ته رسیدلې ښکاري او په یوه اخطاریه شکل یې ځانونه یو بدلون ته چمتو ښودلي دي. دغه بیت یې د طالبانو د بهرنیو چارو وزارت سیاسي معین شیرمحمد عباس ستانکزي د زوی چې د نوموړي سکرتریت او رسمي چارې پرمخ وړي، بدرګه کړی دی.

The United States must stand by the people who supported our troops and their families. We are calling on the Administration to provide answers about the impact of recent actions on our Afghan wartime allies. It is a matter of national interest and national honor.

Breaking News: Officials said they believed no one had survived the midair collision between a plane carrying 64 people and an Army helicopter carrying three. Follow live updates.

Today, once again, I find myself struggling to find the words to express my feelings. For nearly four years, Afghans have been trapped in a relentless limbo, their lives consumed by a crushing uncertainty shaped by U.S. bipartisan politics. To call Afghan lives pawns in a game of electoral chess feels far too small to capture the weight of this reality. Since August 2021, I’ve carried the burden of witnessing and experiencing countless uncertainties—not just for myself but for my friends, family, colleagues, and community. I cannot forget what happened to those stuck at the gates of Kabul airport, clinging desperately to the hope that they might escape to safety. Many never made it—hundreds were killed, countless lost their children in the chaos, and thousands were left behind, losing not only their homes but their dreams of a future. In refugee camps, messages flooded in, pleading for answers I didn’t have—families wondering if their tomorrow might hold even the faintest promise of certainty. Today, some families are still scattered across the globe, stranded in hostile or precarious environments, clinging to the hope that the U.S., once their ally, might fulfill its promises to them. In the past three and a half years, I’ve met U.S. senators who expressed empathy with their words but wielded the Afghan cause as a weapon in their political games, exploiting our suffering to discredit the opposing party. Their concern always felt conditional, their actions fleeting. I’ve filled out countless forms, attended exhausting meetings, and begged lawyers to help families who couldn’t afford the obscene legal fees demanded of them. I’ve knocked on the doors of charities, leaving no stone unturned, desperate to find even a glimmer of hope. Yet despite all the effort, clarity about what comes next has remained out of reach. Even today, I woke up to the same questions and unrelenting uncertainty. I am scared to look at my phone, and I die every day because I don’t know what to tell anyone asking me what will happen to them and they feel I may be able to help. I’ve paid rent for Afghan girls in Pakistan who were sexually harassed by their landlords—knowing it might leave me short for my own rent in this country. I’ve watched the dignity of friends and colleagues crumble in refugee camps and neighboring countries, their lives reduced to waiting in squalor for the faint hope of a secure future for themselves and their children. Why are Afghans considered as illegal immigrants? Thousands of Afghans were put onto planes in August 2021, treated not as people but as problems to be managed. These were allies who served the U.S., people who risked their lives for promises of solidarity and safety. They did not arrive here illegally; they came because they were invited because they were owed. Yet today, they are dehumanized, left in a cruel limbo—floating in a void of fear, uncertainty, and abandonment, victims once again of partisan politics that treat Afghan lives as disposable. Why are Afghan lives so undervalued? Why must their dignity, their humanity, be questioned again and again? I don’t know if I’m more sad, angry, helpless, or hopeless—or if I am all of these at once…