Nasim Fekrat is an Afghan blogger who has also worked as a freelance journalist and photographer. © Nasim Fekrat

First, I fled Taliban brutality. Then I spent time in refugee camps in Iran and Pakistan. Finally, I found myself working in Dubai.

It was while I was in Dubai that I heard one evening BBC Radio announcing the assassination of the Northern Alliance commander Ahmad Shah Massoud by two Arabs.

Two days later, I was watching CNN when I saw a plane crash into the World Trade Center. I thought it was a movie. But then I switched over to Al Jazeera and the BBC. I realised it was real.

Some of my Afghan friends were happy when they heard that the United States planned to attack Al Qaeda and the Taliban, who gave sanctuary to Al Qaeda. Six months after 9/11, I had my ticket booked to return to my country after spending years in refugee camps.

In the plane, I saw people singing and dancing and celebrating; going home after ten or 15 years away from their families was beyond imagination.

I completely forgot all the miseries and destroyed sites which had reminded me of the civil war in unsparing detail. I saw the US and ISAF convoys patrolling in the city, children waving to them as the soldiers distributed pencils and notebooks.

According to Afghanistan's education minister, today, more than 8.5 million students - 37% of whom are female – go to school across Afghanistan. © Nasim Fekrat

We landed back home. Kabul was dusty. All around the city buildings were destroyed, schools and houses were riddled with bullets, and the wreckage of tanks and munitions leftover from the civil war were everywhere.

As soon as I entered the city, I heard music playing in shops. I saw children playing in fields. The Kabul sky was filled with kites flown by children. Life was back.

I completely forgot all the miseries and destroyed sites which had reminded me of the civil war in unsparing detail. I saw the US and ISAF convoys patrolling in the city, children waving to them as the soldiers distributed pencils and notebooks.

In 2002, I went to my village in central Afghanistan to see my parents. Nothing had changed since I was born.

We still had the oil lantern in our house, there weren’t any proper roads, and people still rode donkeys and horses for transportation. There was only one elementary school, an hour’s walk from my village, and a high school which was three hours' walk. There was only one health centre in the entire district. Communication was through couriers, and news from the next valley could not pass through unless someone travelled to that valley.

When I returned to my village in 2009, I saw something different ...

However, when I returned to my village in 2009, I saw something different. My parents had a solar panel installed on the rooftop, and next to it there was a satellite dish. At night we had electricity and everyone was watching TV. Having round-the-clock sustainable green electricity was a dream for me in the city. But there in my village, most houses had solar panels or shared a generator at night. Just two hours away from my village, close to the centre of the district, the entire area had 24 hour electricity through hydroelectric power.

Internet cafés pepper the streets of Kabul, where Afghan youths connect with the rest of the world through social media. © Nasim Fekrat

There were three internet cafes packed with the new generation born in 1990s. They barely remember the Taliban regime. Instead, they represent an educated force skilled in new technologies, far from their illiterate farmer parents. There were young men serving in the army and police, and some families let their daughters go abroad for higher education. Before, in such a traditional and tribal society, this had been unthinkable.

Today, almost everyone has a cell phone. My father loves it because he was exhausted by guests showing up without earlier notice.

According to the Ministry of Information and Communication, there are 17 million mobile phone users and there are five wireless companies covering 80% of Afghanistan. Hundreds of thousands of people have been given jobs. Thousands more are being employed by the booming private sectors.

In 2003, in Kabul, I could hardly find an internet café. Today, at every turn and every street there is an internet café filled with youth using Facebook and Twitter.

Ten years ago, there were only three radio stations broadcasting on shortwave. Today there are hundreds of FM radio stations, broadcasting 24 hours and entertaining their listeners with their varied programmes. There are more than 30 private TV stations and more than 50 newspapers throughout the country. People are more informed than before, more educated and connected to each other than before.

Under the new constitution, freedom of speech is guaranteed, though the Afghan press is still grappling with some problems. But comparing today’s achievements to ten years ago, it is indeed a blessing.

There is some more development, as well. There are five schools in my valley, where there used to be only one. Students from my village walk only 30 minutes to school instead of one hour. In the entire district, there are 62 schools where there used to be around 35 schools. A local census indicates that there are more than 35,000 students in a district with almost 160,000 people. According to the education minister, today, more than 8.5 million students - 37% of which is female – go to school across Afghanistan.

The last time I visited my village, the villagers complained that they couldn’t find a young shepherd that year because every young boy was going to school. There are several public and private libraries and a few private learning centres for men and women.

Today, there are hundreds of private institutions offering a variety of subjects and taught by Afghans who have returned from neighbouring countries. Hundreds of Afghans went abroad through scholarships for higher education. Their influence has been significant in elevating the higher education institutions in Afghanistan.

In 2002, Nasim's home village had no proper roads and people still rode donkeys and horses for transportation. Since then, several hundred kilometres of roads have been built. © Nasim Fekrat

Several hundred kilometres roads have been built, though not yet paved. Ten years ago, it took me 12 to 14 hours to travel from Kabul to my village. Today it takes me only seven hours by car. In my village, there were five vehicles and my dad had one as well, while back in 2003 there was no proper road, let alone cars in the village.

In 2004, the men and women of my village cast their votes to elect their president and representatives for the first time in their lives. It was symbolic but has changed people’s attitude towards government.

In cities, however, life was very different. The pace of development was much faster compared to the rural areas. Today there are more than 5.5 million people living in Kabul - back in 2003, it used to be less than one million.

One of the major changes has been the improvement of health. In 2009, when I was in the village, vaccination was widely campaigned and people were willingly participating. I personally had never received vaccination in my childhood. When I came to the US to study, I was told to get at least 14 kinds of vaccinations; later, my blood test result showed that I was immune and didn’t need those vaccinations.

One of the major changes has been the improvement of healthcare

The level of infant mortality has decreased. The idea of having less children and being prosperous is profoundly widespread among villagers. People have no shame in using birth control. Literacy and public awareness through radio stations has helped the villagers to learn how to live better.

The Taliban have changed their tactics by disrupting security, planting improvised explosive devices and increasing suicide attacks often killing or injuring Afghan civilians. © Nasim Fekrat

However, recounting all these positive developments which have had a significant impact on Afghan people’s lives, should not overshadow some negative issues that have increased in recent years. Unfortunately, lack of security has been a major issue, the level of violence has increased, and opium cultivation has increased.

The scariest part is the increase of numbers of drug addicts in the country. In a country which has roughly 30 million people, almost 2 million are addicts. In southern parts of Afghanistan, the Taliban have influence and the only source of finance has been opium.

In addition, the Taliban have been burning schools and warning parents not to send their children to schools. The reason is obvious: if those children go to school, no one would work in the poppy fields, and when they are educated they become more liberal and Taliban will not have a chance to recruit them.

Nevertheless, Afghans are hopeful and happy. It is hard to explain, but Afghans hold themselves in high esteem. Their lives are intermingled with literature, myth, and legendary figures, and cultures have roots in their languages, history and tribal traditions. They are proud of their past and a country which is a birth place for the great Persian poet Rumi and many other thinkers. Afghan people are very poetic, sarcastic, happy and hospitable.

On the other hand, of course Afghans are worried about their future and what will happen after the US and the international forces leave Afghanistan in 2014. Most Afghans believe that Afghanistan will not fall back into the hands of the Taliban because the Taliban are not the same as they were in 1990s. Now, they are a bunch of insurgents that sporadically disrupt the security through planting improvised explosive devices (IEDs) or suicide attacks against civilians.

There are some societal changes as well. Elders’ grip has gradually loosened their claims to authoritarian wisdom and control over society. Ulama’s (high religious figures) role has increasingly petered out. The Afghan youth, the new force, has replaced elders and clerics with their knowledge and revitalized roles. The new generation wants democracy, human rights and the rule of law to replace the old tribal codes and norms.

As an Afghan blogger and a photographer, I have been closely following the pace of changes. It’s easy to deny all changes under the shadow of violence but to be honest Afghanistan has changed a lot since 2001

Habitually, Afghans complain about everything; for them, nothing is perfect. The accepted wisdom is to not work hard in this world and focus solely on enjoying time with family and friends. However, they now must have learned that they are missing opportunities and without doubt there is only one possibility to change Afghanistan - through its young people.

The US and international community should invest in Afghan youth as the new force if they really want to see changes and a sustainable Afghanistan after 2014. In 2008, the UN announced that 68% of the Afghanistan population is less than 25 years old.

In 2008, in the Beijing Olympic games, Rohullah Nikpai won Afghanistan's first ever Olympic medal when he took bronze in the taekwondo. The news exalted the entire nation and his achievement invigorated Afghan youth to be hopeful and relentless.

As an Afghan blogger and a photographer, I have been closely following the pace of changes. It’s easy to deny all changes under the shadow of violence but to be honest Afghanistan has changed a lot since 2001. Ten years ago, it took a year to send a letter to my brother in Iran and another year to hear back if we were lucky enough to have a traveler passing by our village. Ten years later, I am now sitting in my college dorm in Pennsylvania, talking to my family in the village.

My father is still astounded to hear my voice over the phone from this part of the world and last time he told me, “My son Nasim, it seems you are sitting next to me, I hear your voice that clearly.” My country, my journey, have changed a lot.

Nasim Fekrat is an Afghan blogger who has also worked as a freelance journalist and a photographer (his portfolio). He is the two time award winner from Reporters Without Borders (RWB)) and Information Safety and Freedom. In addition, he is the editor of the Afghan Lord blog and the director of the Association of Afghan Blog Writers (AABW). Nasim’s work has appeared on BBC Persian, CNN, Foreign Policy Magazine, Nieman Watchdog and in publications run by both NATO and the United Nations.