Dr Naimat Zafary, Department of International Development, University of Sussex.
Last week, Kabul was transformed into a landscape of pristine white. The Afghan capital, Kabul, , draped in a heavy blanket of snow, sparked a wave of nostalgia and celebration across social media. Citizens shared vibrant photos and videos, echoing the centuries-old proverb: “Let Kabul be without gold, but not without snow.”
The snowfall was uncharacteristically widespread. It reached into the eastern provinces—regions that rarely witness such a winter spectacle—bringing families out of their homes to marvel at a phenomenon that usually symbolises life, agricultural fertility, and a brief respite from the country’s hardships.
However, beneath this picturesque surface lies a devastating contrast. While families in eastern Afghanistan were celebrating the snow, one of their own was fighting for his life against it.
A Heartbreak on the Border
As the snow fell in the East of Afghanistan, a harrowing video began to circulate among Facebook users, grounding the festive atmosphere in a grim reality. It featured a young boy, barely 12 or 13 years old, who was discovered by a group of Afghan rescuers on the treacherous border between Iran and Turkey.
The footage is difficult to watch. The boy, small and frail, was found half-frozen, his legs turned a bruised, stony black by severe frostbite. He could barely whisper his name or identify the smugglers who had abandoned him. In his innocent, wide-eyed gaze, viewers saw a reflection of the profound humanitarian crisis that continues to push Afghanistan’s youth into the mouth of danger.
For the rescuers—men searching for their own missing relatives—finding the boy was a moment of bittersweet relief. For the boy’s family, the joy of the winter snow likely vanished the moment they saw the images of their son, immobile and broken, thousands of miles from home.
The Anatomy of a Desperate Journey
This teenager’s plight is a vivid illustration of a traumatic journey driven by a volatile cocktail of intersecting issues. At the heart of this struggle is extreme poverty, where families facing the immediate threat of starvation begin to see migration not as a choice, but as a final, desperate investment in survival. This financial despair is further compounded by widespread unemployment, which strips the youth of any tangible future prospects within their own borders. Underlying these economic pressures is a persistent state of political instability, leaving many living in the constant shadow of insecurity and injustice.
These children are sent on paths that would break grown adults. They navigate illegal crossings, rely on smugglers who can be ruthless in their pursuit of profit, and face increasingly hostile anti-migration policies in transit and destination countries. When a child falls in the snow, unable to move, his final thoughts are likely of the parents and siblings he may never see again. Conversely, back home, the silence of a disconnected phone becomes a deafening source of agony for the family left behind.
A Plea for Change
The story of the “frozen boy” is not an isolated incident, but it should be a turning point. While the boy was eventually rescued and shown in a subsequent video receiving shelter, his journey back to health—and potentially back to his hometown—will be marred by the physical and psychological scars of his ordeal.
To the Families: We must speak honestly within our communities: No dream of a better life is worth the sacrifice of a child’s life. The dangers of these journeys are not merely risks; they are often death sentences. We must prioritise local alternatives—such as community-based vocational training or small-scale local cooperatives—that keep our youth rooted and safe. The gamble of the “black road” is a game where the house always wins, and the stake is our children’s lives.
To the International Community: When a refugee finally reaches a new land, the citizens and government of that country must understand the sheer weight of the journey. These are not just “migrants”; they are survivors of a gauntlet of hunger, cold, and injustice.
To prevent children from being pushed into the frozen shadows of our borders, the global community must uphold its fundamental obligation to protect human life. This commitment requires an immediate end to violent border “push-backs,” a practice that callously forces vulnerable groups into even more dangerous and unmonitored mountain terrain during the height of winter. Instead of deterrence through displacement, the world must invest in humanitarian corridors—secure passageways that recognize the inherent dignity of the human person as a priority over the technical legality of their status. Only by prioritising the sanctity of life over the fortification of borders can we ensure that no child is ever forced to navigate the “Death Road” in a desperate search for safety.
We celebrate the snow in Kabul because it promises water for the crops and beauty for the soul. But we must never forget that for many young Afghans, that same snow is a cold shroud. We can only hope that this boy’s story is the last of its kind—that no more children will be buried in the frost in a desperate search for safety.
A life is a heavy price to pay for a chance at a future. It is a price no child should ever have to carry.
The Bitter Duality of Winter: Kabul’s Snow and the Frozen Dreams of an Afghan Child
Dr Naimat Zafary, Department of International Development, University of Sussex.
Last week, Kabul was transformed into a landscape of pristine white. The Afghan capital, Kabul, , draped in a heavy blanket of snow, sparked a wave of nostalgia and celebration across social media. Citizens shared vibrant photos and videos, echoing the centuries-old proverb: “Let Kabul be without gold, but not without snow.”
The snowfall was uncharacteristically widespread. It reached into the eastern provinces—regions that rarely witness such a winter spectacle—bringing families out of their homes to marvel at a phenomenon that usually symbolises life, agricultural fertility, and a brief respite from the country’s hardships.
However, beneath this picturesque surface lies a devastating contrast. While families in eastern Afghanistan were celebrating the snow, one of their own was fighting for his life against it.
A Heartbreak on the Border
As the snow fell in the East of Afghanistan, a harrowing video began to circulate among Facebook users, grounding the festive atmosphere in a grim reality. It featured a young boy, barely 12 or 13 years old, who was discovered by a group of Afghan rescuers on the treacherous border between Iran and Turkey.
The footage is difficult to watch. The boy, small and frail, was found half-frozen, his legs turned a bruised, stony black by severe frostbite. He could barely whisper his name or identify the smugglers who had abandoned him. In his innocent, wide-eyed gaze, viewers saw a reflection of the profound humanitarian crisis that continues to push Afghanistan’s youth into the mouth of danger.
For the rescuers—men searching for their own missing relatives—finding the boy was a moment of bittersweet relief. For the boy’s family, the joy of the winter snow likely vanished the moment they saw the images of their son, immobile and broken, thousands of miles from home.
The Anatomy of a Desperate Journey
This teenager’s plight is a vivid illustration of a traumatic journey driven by a volatile cocktail of intersecting issues. At the heart of this struggle is extreme poverty, where families facing the immediate threat of starvation begin to see migration not as a choice, but as a final, desperate investment in survival. This financial despair is further compounded by widespread unemployment, which strips the youth of any tangible future prospects within their own borders. Underlying these economic pressures is a persistent state of political instability, leaving many living in the constant shadow of insecurity and injustice.
These children are sent on paths that would break grown adults. They navigate illegal crossings, rely on smugglers who can be ruthless in their pursuit of profit, and face increasingly hostile anti-migration policies in transit and destination countries. When a child falls in the snow, unable to move, his final thoughts are likely of the parents and siblings he may never see again. Conversely, back home, the silence of a disconnected phone becomes a deafening source of agony for the family left behind.
A Plea for Change
The story of the “frozen boy” is not an isolated incident, but it should be a turning point. While the boy was eventually rescued and shown in a subsequent video receiving shelter, his journey back to health—and potentially back to his hometown—will be marred by the physical and psychological scars of his ordeal.
To the Families: We must speak honestly within our communities: No dream of a better life is worth the sacrifice of a child’s life. The dangers of these journeys are not merely risks; they are often death sentences. We must prioritise local alternatives—such as community-based vocational training or small-scale local cooperatives—that keep our youth rooted and safe. The gamble of the “black road” is a game where the house always wins, and the stake is our children’s lives.
To the International Community: When a refugee finally reaches a new land, the citizens and government of that country must understand the sheer weight of the journey. These are not just “migrants”; they are survivors of a gauntlet of hunger, cold, and injustice.
To prevent children from being pushed into the frozen shadows of our borders, the global community must uphold its fundamental obligation to protect human life. This commitment requires an immediate end to violent border “push-backs,” a practice that callously forces vulnerable groups into even more dangerous and unmonitored mountain terrain during the height of winter. Instead of deterrence through displacement, the world must invest in humanitarian corridors—secure passageways that recognize the inherent dignity of the human person as a priority over the technical legality of their status. Only by prioritising the sanctity of life over the fortification of borders can we ensure that no child is ever forced to navigate the “Death Road” in a desperate search for safety.
We celebrate the snow in Kabul because it promises water for the crops and beauty for the soul. But we must never forget that for many young Afghans, that same snow is a cold shroud. We can only hope that this boy’s story is the last of its kind—that no more children will be buried in the frost in a desperate search for safety.
A life is a heavy price to pay for a chance at a future. It is a price no child should ever have to carry.