I logged on, and the faces of those who were lost flooded my Facebook feed. Among them was a bright assistant professor, Naqib Ahmad Khpulwak , who had a double master’s degree and was a PhD candidate . I can only imagine how he achieved all that despite nearly four decades of war, refugee life, and poverty. Sami Sarwari, a musician from a poor family who had received a full scholarship and died that night, had just started the fall semester and spent less than a week at the campus. A classmate shared a screenshot of his Facebook status, which read: "Im in. Looking forward to a beautiful and bright future.”People from many different backgrounds were killed that night, but one theme that knits them together was bravery. Professor Khpulwak had stayed back to help his students escape through his office window when he was finally found and shot. Several surviving students posted online about a police officer who ran in and out of the buildings, guiding hundreds to safety before he was gunned down; he was later identified as Mohammad Akbar Andarabi , commander of a Crisis Response Unit.I believe in all these stories. My country doesn’t have much left, but I am certain it is rich in the bravery of its people. The living students, staff, and security forces will persevere. I assure you that on the reopened campus, AUAF’s students and staff will once again be in their classrooms, their pain still raw, but reading Gandhi, Aristotle, and Descartes as they always have.Whatever armed group thinks they can turn our reality into a mirage is bound to fail. There is a lush green place out there, and like millions of Afghans before them, my people will risk everything to get to it.Wazhma Furmuli is a board member of the Initiative to Educate Afghan Women and former Afghan refugee who worked at the American University of Afghanistan while she pursued her dream of education. The views expressed here are her own.*Editor's note: Furmuli's brother's name has been changed to protect his identity.