Dozens of Afghan women, dressed in their colorful traditional attire, sat around Dastarkhān, our “traditional dining space,” on an autumn day in a regional park in St. Paul, Minnesota. The strong wind playfully tussled with the plates of food, as the women laughed and struggled to keep them from taking flight. Thousands of miles away from home, Afghanistan, the women were sharing a meal and smiles while celebrating at a community gathering organized by the Center for Victims of Torture Raahat project.
Colleagues encouraged women to try new food and joked about the Minnesota weather. We empathized with their discomfort. A participant cheerfully responded, “Oh, not at all. This is a perfect day. We love being here with other women to chat and share a meal while our children can play and run around freely.”
This is one of the many heartfelt scenes I will certainly remember from my time leading the Raahat project. The people of Afghanistan come from a collective culture; they are accustomed to gatherings to eat, talk and support one another.
Following the sudden collapse of the Republic in Afghanistan in August 2021, many were forced to leave everything behind. Families and individuals arrived in the U.S. – and in Minnesota – in an intense and traumatic process. Upon arrival, they were welcomed by resettlement agencies and dozens of volunteers who helped them figure out the next steps. Learning a new language, finding a job and securing housing and health insurance added to the complexities of their new life.
While newly arrived Afghans were grappling to manage those competing priorities, they have slowly faced a more painful reality. Most of them had lost the sense of community, love, and belonging they had at home.”
-Mahdi Surosh, Raahat project manager
While newly arrived Afghans were grappling to manage those competing priorities, they have slowly faced a more painful reality. Most of them had lost the sense of community, love, and belonging they had at home. People were suddenly cut off from the years-old connections. Despite generous support from the agencies and the community, many felt overstressed and isolated.
In response to these challenges, CVT launched the Raahat project – meaning “comfort and ease” in Farsi/Dari and Pashto – in February 2023. The project’s objective is to offer accessible, interdisciplinary and culturally appropriate mental health and social services in a safe space. It is supported by the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) and will end in February 2026. In this project, I work with my interdisciplinary team of licensed therapists, support staff members and our subgrantee, the Afghan Cultural Society (ACS). We also partner with many other government and nonprofit agencies in the state to serve as many Afghans as we can.
Over the course of three years, we have served more than 410 Afghans, providing them with individual and group therapy, case management and community education. Over 3,500 Afghans participated in our community programming and celebration of special days like Eid and Nowruz. In addition, over 150 individuals and partners received training in trauma-informed care for Afghans and refugees coming from conflict affected countries.
Among many who benefited from our services is Jamila (a pseudonym). She is 30 years old, a survivor of trafficking and has been displaced multiple times. For years, she carried shame and hopelessness. At the initial stage of the project, some people doubted that Afghans would engage in therapy like this. However, Jamila and many others proved otherwise.
Over time, with therapy, Jamila began to see herself differently. She is separating the negative voices from her past, and she is starting to believe that her future could hold real choices.
She told our therapist: “I feel lighter each time we meet . . . Therapy has made me happier, more at peace, and more stable.”
Jamila is discovering a powerful resilience within herself, realizing that her life does not have to be defined by trauma or war.
Jamila is discovering a powerful resilience within herself, realizing that her life does not have to be defined by trauma or war.”
Zahra (a pseudonym) a 48-year-old participant in our therapy sessions, shared her story. When she first came to us, she was experiencing one or two panic attacks every week, and her anxiety was almost unbearable. After months of therapy, things had changed. The panic attacks were almost gone, and her anxiety had dropped from an 8 or 9 out of 10 to about a 5 or 6.
She told us that therapy gave her a safe space to breathe and decompress. At her final session, when our therapist gave her a small card to mark the work with Raahat, she said, “I have nothing to give you back but my tears.”
Group therapy, in particular, emerged as one of the most sought-after services among the community members. Each time I pass our therapy group space, I pause and think about all the moments shared in circles. There were tears of missing loved ones, joyful moments and the laughter that can make a week feel fulfilling.
Sometimes, these moments take me back to Afghanistan, where community members gathered to celebrate or mourn in a similar fashion, yet not quite alike. Here, we organize circles as part of a program; there I was a member and a gatherer. One of our male participants, Fazel (pseudonym), aged 45, observed, “The therapy circles are a first experience of their kind for me. We used to gather in Afghanistan, but we rarely discussed emotions, feelings, or tried to be vulnerable as in the groups here.” He added, “The creation of these groups is helpful for us because we hear from each other and learn.”
Reflecting on this journey, I am profoundly moved by the resilience of Afghans and other refugees, whose courage and determination to rebuild their lives in a new land have taught me invaluable lessons about hope and perseverance.”
Experiencing these moments with the people I care about gives me a sense of purpose and community. The tears, laughter, smell of kebabs, music, dance and games are memories I cherish from the Raahat project.
Reflecting on this journey, I am profoundly moved by the resilience of Afghans and other refugees, whose courage and determination to rebuild their lives in a new land have taught me invaluable lessons about hope and perseverance. They rebuilt their lives, slowly revived a sense of community, belonging and hope in their second home, Minnesota. They also kept their hearts open for their loved ones not present with them.
The Raahat project’s progress has shown me that healing is possible. Through shared meals, laughter and moments of hope, we helped not only to recreate the power of coming together but shared the meaningful journey of healing and connection.
About The Author
Mahdi Surosh
