This “backstory” is a part of a collection of articles that describes some of the obstacles that Seven Days reporters faced while pursuing Vermont news, events and people in 2024.
Sleep can be elusive on the eve of a big story.
Did you double-check the data? Did you reflect all sides of the debate? Does it read like a fourth-grade essay, so bogged down in clichés and jargon that you will suffer career-tanking embarrassment and be forced to enter the witness protection program, move to Minnesota and become a sugar beet farmer?
My own 11th-hour anxieties typically involve my sources. I worry that I didn’t explain the story explicitly enough and that my subjects will be left reeling from the reality of seeing their innermost thoughts exposed in print for all to see.
That was my concern for Rafiqullah, a slim, soft-spoken 30-year-old whom I profiled as part of our cover story on Vermont’s Afghan community.
Rafiqullah was one of thousands of Afghan soldiers who worked on behalf of the U.S., which meant they had to flee their country after the Taliban reclaimed power. These men were told that the U.S. would help reunite them with their wives and children. But most have spent the past three years waiting to see whether those promises would ever be fulfilled.
Rafiqullah was unfortunately a good representation of this agonizing limbo. He had been building a new life in Vermont. But his mind was often stuck in his native country, where his wife and their four children were in hiding.
I met Rafiqullah for the first time at the offices of the Vermont Afghan Alliance, then later at his Essex apartment, where he cooked me a traditional Afghan meal.
His place in my story solidified during this second conversation, so I asked him whether he’d be willing to have his photo taken. When, much to my surprise, he said yes, I explained that our newspaper gets published online for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to read. That includes the Taliban. There would be a risk, I said.
I understand, he replied. He wanted people to know what he and his countrymen had experienced.
Photographer Luke Awtry captured Rafiqullah sitting in front of a large Afghan flag he and his three roommates had pinned against the wall behind their couch. That photo ended up on the cover of Seven Days.
Rafiqullah asked that I text him a link to the story when it published in late September. I did, then waited for his thoughts.
Finally, in mid-October, Molly Gray, executive director of the Vermont Afghan Alliance, texted me a photo. There was Rafiqullah, holding up a copy of the paper, a smile on his face. He had translated the story, Gray wrote, and was very proud of it.
I slept a little easier that night. But in the weeks since, Rafiqullah has been on my mind. His wife and children remain in hiding back in Afghanistan, and with president-elect Donald Trump vowing to reinstate his “Muslim travel ban” upon taking office, there is no telling when Rafiqullah may see his family again.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Most Courageous Source”
This article appears in Dec 25, 2024 – Jan 7, 2025.
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