The escape from Kabul and a life rebuilt

It was the early hours of the morning when Maqsood Rezayee got the call.

The Taliban had seized nearly every province in Afghanistan, and the safe house that had been his family's refuge was no longer safe. It was time to leave.

Maqsood's wife, Raihana Attaee, grabbed what little they had. The pair fled Kabul with their son Arsam, who was barely 18 months old. They had no money and little certainty about what would come next.

A charter plane was waiting to fly them out of Afghanistan. It would be the last time Maqsood and Raihana would set foot in their home country.  

Five years on, life looks very different.

The family has settled in Aotearoa New Zealand, where Maqsood has been studying towards a PhD in urban planning at the University of Auckland.

Raihana, a former judge in Afghanistan, has retrained as a lawyer at the University's Auckland Law School and is preparing for admission to the High Court.

Arsam attends kindy, with little memory of life left behind.

After a harrowing journey to safety, further complicated by Covid-19 disruptions and lockdowns, Maqsood has reached the end of his academic journey.

On 23 September 2026, he crosses the stage at Waipapa Taumata Rau, University of Auckland, to receive his doctorate.  

New Zealand had been on Maqsood's mind since June 2021, when he'd started his PhD journey at the University of Auckland remotely, under the supervision of Drs Deidre Brown and Elham Bahmanteymouri.

Studying from afar meant balancing his research with lecturing at Nangarhar University, while contending with unreliable internet access and no stipend. At the same time, he was navigating life as a first-time father.

The remote arrangement was temporary. Once New Zealand's border restrictions lifted, he planned to continue his studies in person.

That plan lasted just two months. Shortly after his programme began, the Taliban took control of Afghanistan.

"The political situation was not good. The official government was losing a province to the Taliban each day," says Maqsood.

The eastern province of Nangarhar, where the family lived, was the last province to fall to the Taliban. But that didn't make things any safer for Maqsood and Raihana, who belong to the Hazara community, an ethnic and religious minority in Afghanistan.

"I was the only Hazara lecturer at Nangarhar University. My wife was the province's only female Hazara judge," says Maqsood.

"It would've been very easy for the Taliban to recognise us because our faces look different from Pashtun people."

Raihana had an additional target on her back. As a judge in the Court of Elimination of Violence Against Women, she had been responsible for sentencing offenders, including Taliban members, to prison.  

The couple had a home inside the court campus where Raihana worked. Nangarhar University was only a short drive away.

But because it wasn't always safe to travel, Maqsood spent many nights sleeping in his office, making do with a thin mattress on the floor, a hard pillow, and meals from the university cafe.

When the Taliban finally closed in on Nangarhar, the family had to leave for Kabul immediately.

"There was very little time to realise what was happening. We left everything behind in the house just to save our lives," says Maqsood.

His supervisors had become increasingly concerned for his safety. They advised him to suspend his studies and focus on protecting his family while they worked to find a way to get him to New Zealand. Maqsood agreed it had to be done.

"We were worried about our son. He shouldn’t have to pay for our jobs or for our mistake to go to other provinces," he says.

Raihana had been in touch with the International Association of Women Judges, led by New Zealand Justice Dame Susan Glazebrook. She made arrangements for the family to stay in a safe house.

After 20 days of hiding, it was time to leave. In northern Afghanistan, a charter plane was waiting to take them and a group of women judges and their families to safety.

Their eventual destinations spanned several countries. For Maqsood, there was only one place in mind.

In December 2021, the family landed in Aotearoa New Zealand. While the escape was over, life was only just starting again.  

Maqsood arrived in Auckland and started his research from scratch.

His new topic: the city's housing affordability issues, inspired by his family's own search for accommodation after a temporary stay organised by the government.

"It was unacceptable, unimaginable for us to pay $700, $800, nearly a grand for rent each week," he says.

Maqsood’s PhD examines how the growing dominance of housing as a financial asset over its role as a home can drive Auckland’s housing unaffordability.

As he explored the subject of housing, he was building a home of his own: furnishing a new space from the ground up, raising a toddler and navigating an entirely new country through Covid-19 restrictions and lockdowns, all while fearing for the safety of family back in Afghanistan.

Eventually, Maqsood's mother and sister were able to secure visas to join the family in Auckland.  

It’s been almost five years since the family moved to New Zealand. Maqsood feels like they’re finally finding their feet.

"Life is more social now," he says.

Maqsood is chairperson of the United Hazara Association of Auckland, which has a growing community of some 500 members. They meet regularly for Afghan gatherings that include dinners, sports tournaments and Eid and New Years celebrations.

He's grateful for life in New Zealand, but Afghanistan is never far from his mind.

"We left our community, our village, all our relationships and friends, our jobs, our families, everything," he says.

"When something happens in Afghanistan, it still affects us."

Maqsood and Raihana can't visit their home country any time soon, at least not under Taliban rule. But they hope Arsam can.

The small toddler who arrived in 2021 is now learning his mother tongue to maintain some connection with his extended family.

"He’s very happy here because he doesn’t know anything about Afghanistan. He’s very Kiwi, he speaks English better than us," says Maqsood.

"Sometimes we show photos from the court so he knows where we came from. We just want the best future for our son. Humanity is the most important thing."

Maqsood says all things considered, he’s very lucky.

"We managed to overcome our family issues, we’re not native English speakers, and to come here to build a life, find a community, study at the leading university, and to manage all these things and be under pressure because of something happening back in Afghanistan, it’s not easy to manage.

"But having the resilience, I achieved this and I’m proud of it. It's a big year for us."