Abena Ntoso: Welcome to Backlit, a space for groundbreaking conversations with emerging authors. I'm your host, Abena Ntoso. In each episode, I converse with a contemporary writer and thinker whose work inspires deep and authentic conversation around social issues. Our discussion is not just about the book, or even just about the writer’s life and work; our discussion is a shared space where minds meet to be inspired by one another, explore issues together, and ultimately to generate new ideas and perspectives. 

Today’s thought partners are Diana Arterian and Marina Omar, co-translators of Smoke Drifts, a collection of poetry by the late Afghan poet Nadia Anjuman. Recipient of the 2026 William Carlos Williams Award from the Poetry Society of America and two-time finalist for the National Poetry Series, Diana holds a PhD in Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Southern California. She is the author of two collections Agrippina the Younger and Playing Monster :: Seiche and serves as a poetry editor at Noemi Press. Marina moved to the United States in 2001 from Afghanistan, where she experienced the Taliban's brutal ban on Afghan women's education. In the U.S., Marina earned her PhD in Political Science from the University of Virginia and published a comprehensive article analyzing Afghan constitutional selection, and she frequently works as an interpreter for Afghan refugee families.

Diana and Marina, thank you both for joining me in conversation today.

Diana Arterian: Thanks so much for having us, Abena.

Marina Omar: Thanks so much for the opportunity, Abena.

Abena Ntoso: I have been very excited to have this conversation. It is an honor to be able to talk with folks about work that I think is so incredibly important, and Nadia Anjuman's work definitely falls into that category of work that's incredibly important to folks in Afghanistan and around the world today.

Smoke Drifts opens with, “In Vain,” a poem which captures several themes in Anjuman's work: a recognition of the speaker's silencing, and an acknowledgement of the feeling of hopelessness. Yet the speaker is also determined to assert her voice, despite nearly insurmountable fear and oppression. So, I'd love to have you read the opening poem, and perhaps we can use it as a touchpoint throughout our discussion.

Marina Omar: So, I’ll start. [Persian]

Diana Arterian: In Vain 

I don't want to open my mouth, what can I sing
I am despised these days—so what if I sing or not

What can I say of honey when it tastes like poison on my tongue
I curse the brutal fist that smashed my mouth

There is no one in the world I can rely on

So what if I cry, I laugh, I die, I linger

Alone in this corner with only defeat and regret

I was born in vain—my tongue is sealed shut

I know it is spring, my heart, a time of celebration
But I am a clipped wing, I can't fly

Though I have been silent for some time, I remember the song
I pull the words from my heart in an endless whisper

Celebrate that day when I will break from this miserable cage
and emerge, drunkenly singing

I am not that weak willow tree that trembles in the wind

I am an Afghan girl, and so I howl

Abena Ntoso: Thank you. Thank you so much. The opening lines of the poem are so honest and heart-wrenching in expressing the overwhelming feeling of despair that accompanies the silencing, right, we have those first two lines, "I don't want to open my mouth, what can I sing? / I am despised these days—so what if I sing or not?" Right, there's definitely this despair there and this acknowledgement of the silencing. And yet, by the end of the poem, the speaker has decided not only to speak up, but to howl and to assert that her voice is part of her identity as an Afghan woman, not in spite of it.

And I've been reading several works by Afghan women writers, and this desire to define Afghan identity on her own terms is a theme that comes up over and over again. How was Anjuman able to assert her voice under an oppressive regime, and how are Afghan women writers able to continue to assert their voices, under such oppressive policies?

Marina Omar: Afghan women poetry goes back far, far back. One reason why I think, or I believe Anjuman was able to express herself and express herself so beautifully was because she had a very, I mean, obviously, she's a very talented, young woman, but she also had a very supportive family, who allowed her to think, to imagine to express the things that generally, women are not supposed to express. So, it's not a trivial thing, when you have a supportive family, because I'm pretty sure there were young women who had the same or similar talent, but never found the opportunity to express themselves, and that this is hardly something that is unique to Afghanistan, unfortunately, and so a very supportive family, must have been the key for her to be able to let her thoughts kind of float freely, be able to sit down somewhere quiet, have both the physical and mental space to be able to express herself. 

Now, women in general, have, have been suppressed throughout history. There have been periods of, you know, liberalization, you know, 50s, 60s, 70s, in Afghanistan, 50s, 1960s, and 1970s were, really a period where, where, when women were able to get a good education participate in public life, a very, sort of a vibrant, society in those, in those, decades. It unfortunately kind of went backwards from there, where their rights were taken, taken away from them. So they had to find ways to express themselves, right? Miniature art, for example, is one way women have historically expressed themselves. Poetry is definitely another way. It's very subtle. They use symbols, and they use nuances that is not quite accessible to an average person who would, you know, not want to hear what women had to say.

So they generally cater it to a segment of the population that understands that form of resistance. And so poetry has been, because it's such a subtle art of expressing yourself, has been one way for them to, basically resist, and I'm pretty sure it's still going on. People still get to express themselves, it's just that, you know, as far as, you know, with their work being published, it's obviously a completely different story. But this has been sort of one means available for them to express themselves historically and in contemporary Afghanistan.

Abena Ntoso: Yeah, I've come across several articles and online collections about Afghan women's poetry and the role that Afghan women have played as leaders of socio-political movements. There was an article I came across that spoke of Afghan women writers celebrated as voices of resilience and change, and, in this article, “Daughters of Afghanistan, Literary Voices of Change,” Aria Fani explains that Afghan women writers are at the forefront of socio-political movements to challenge the status quo. And it's so interesting, as you mentioned, that it's the women who—they are the members of the oppressed group, and yet—they are the ones who are leading the resistance movements, leading as voices of change.

I have found several wonderful books, including My Dear Kabul, which I'm currently reading, which is this beautiful, innovative memoir compiled from a WhatsApp group chat by Afghan women writers. And these are women who risk their lives to write fiction, nonfiction, and poetry.

And so I'm just curious, we have Nadia Anjuman's work that you translated in Smoke Drifts, that you and Diana translated, and we have all of these other books and collections of literature by Afghan women, how do we introduce more people to the work of Afghan women, and Afghan writers in particular, including Nadia Anjuman, and contemporary writers who are writing today in the diaspora, and even within the country when they're able to get their writing out.

Diana Arterian: You know, there are so many really beautiful anthologies of work. Like, I think about Dick Davies, I think it's called Mirror of My Heart, which is… it's women writers who write in Persian from the ancient world to now. And so, you know, the borders of Afghanistan, this is more of Marina's knowledge base, but it's, at least in terms of how ancient the literature and the language is relatively recent.

So I think about that anthology, some of the work that we co-translated by Anjuman was in this really excellent short anthology, called Hair on Fire that was specifically Afghan women writers in translation put out by Two Lines Press in their Calico series.

I mean, anthologies aren't always necessarily the answer, but I do think that there has been a concerted effort in trying to get Afghan writers and Afghan diasporic writers out there.

One thing that I was thinking about as you were speaking, Abena, like, about Afghan women kind of being at the forefront of the resistance in their work, what came to mind, and this is only a slight digression, like, so I'm part Armenian and also part Assyrian, and then, you know, like many Americans, kind of a mixture of lots of other things, but I know a lot about the Armenian part of my family and kind of that story. But I realized I didn't really know anything about the Assyrian part, and so I was trying to learn more about Assyria, which is a nation that doesn't exist anymore, and kind of is in what is now modern Iraq and Iran and other parts of that region.

So I was reading about the dissolution of Assyria, and essentially, the genocide that happened there.

But in one of these books that I was reading about the history of Assyria, and kind of the dissolution of the nation, and the genocide that happened there, somebody mentioned how the reason that the story of the Armenian Genocide had more cultural traction was because there were people who were writing. There were writers, there were thinkers, there were people who were able to kind of describe that experience and that narrative and take it out of the borders of the country in a way that Assyria just wasn't able to do.

it was a connection that I hadn't made before, so I'm very heartened to hear and think about the fact that Afghan women who are obviously, bearing this enormous weight of oppression in the nation at this moment, can also be the very people who can express that experience, and bring it outside of the borders of Afghanistan.

I know that a lot of people are publishing even just online, you know, on Instagram, on other social media platforms. This poem that Marina and I read that we co-translated has a very powerful video of these two sisters who, once the Taliban made an edict that women can't sing in public, they were fully covered and made a video of themselves singing this poem. And they started writing poetry and singing poetry, calling themselves the Last Torch, and essentially using the burqa as a means to maintain a sense of anonymity. So I think that they actually ended up leaving the country.

Yeah, I mean, I think, for all the deep flaws of social media, it does have the capacity to some degree depending on people's internet connections and VPNs and other things to potentially get people's words out. But the lineage of poetry in which Anjuman is operating is ancient and rich, and you can just go back forever, basically.

Abena Ntoso: Yeah, I love your comment about how having the work of writers within the culture helps kind of, helps to legitimize almost, like, that culture's existence, or… or not so much… there's a better word I'm looking for, but kind of maintain. 

Diana Arterian: It makes it legible.

Abena Ntoso: Yes. Yes, makes that culture legible.

Diana Arterian: Yeah, and that's also true for Anjuman's story, and like, the reason that people know about her, you know, her death was brought up in the UN, was because her poetry was so powerful and adored regionally, and by Persian readers. I mean, I'm sure that most of your listeners would agree that literature is powerful and there's a reason why we love it and are drawn to it, and it's a way for us to translate some of our most profound existential experiences as, I guess, existential experiences is the same word, but I think it's some of the most profound experiences as people on this planet, and I think one of the things that's very meaningful to me is how much literature and translation is a way to bridge us more and more toward one another, which is a large reason as to why I worked with Marina on this project.

Abena Ntoso: And speaking of working together on this translation project, and the rich history, rich lineage of Persian and Afghan literature, and poetry in particular, I'm curious, Marina, growing up, were you, what was your exposure to poetry, and if it was a part of your day-to-day life, how was it, and were you familiar with Angeman's poetry growing up? When did you first come into contact with Anjuman's poetry?

Marina Omar: Poetry is very integral to Persians. We are exposed to it very early on in school, where we read poems, mostly classical, of classical forms, and we try to understand and unpack it. This happens as early as third grade. But even in, you know, first and second grade, you actually kids memorize poetry. They, we, we have, we have, games that, that, we play amongst, the family, where one team would recite a poem, and the other team would recite another poem that, so whatever letter, the first team's poem ends, and the other team has to come up with a poem that starts with that letter. It's a very, very common game, very endeared, endeared game for Afghans and Iranians, similarly.

So my exposure with poetry came very early on. I was also very naturally drawn to poetry and literature. When I lived in Afghanistan in 1996, that's when the Taliban took Kabul City, where I was living, and that was my, I was in my in 12th grade, I was an accelerated student, had skipped grades to finish school and go to college. And so they take power that year, and they tell women, or they tell girls that they should consider themselves graduated. This is before, you know, final exams and whatnot. But, and they tell us that we have to wait for schools to reopen whenever the conditions are right, and, you know, those conditions were never right for them. So I lived under that rule for five years.

I wouldn't exaggerate if I say, it was poetry and literature that kept me alive. I was fortunate enough to have access to my mother's library. So I went through all of the books that she had. I read… we had a family friend who was a bookseller, so I went to his bookshop, you know, wearing a burqa, and I picked up books, and he actually allowed me to borrow them, read them and then decide if I wanted to buy them. I ended up buying all the books that I borrowed from him. But I had access to, to, books and, you know, literature in general, I mean, I was reading a variety of different topics, philosophy, I was reading novels, poetry. In fact, I—and Diana, I've never really discussed this with you, or I've never told you—I read poems that Ahmad Shamlou, that's a very prominent Iranian poet, had translated from both English and French poetry. He also translated Langston Hughes, poetry which I actually read. I even had tapes of him reciting them, and I was listening.

Diana Arterian: That is so cool, Marina.

Marina Omar: I, I know, right? And just not, not to, also to kind of highlight how Langston Hughes' poetry kind of resonated with me, you know, he's taught… he speaks of oppression and, you know, your rights taken away as a human being, and it really resonated with me. So, as far as as far as, exposure to Angeman is concerned, I, so we came to the U.S. in 2001, and Taliban were still ruling, then September 11 happened, and you know all too well what happened after that. And so there was a, you know, a period of calm and relative peace and security. So I was able to go back because we still had family living there, but also I was doing some research for my undergraduate studies. So I went back in 2006, and she had been killed the year before, so it was in the news. That's when I started to read some of her poetry, but definitely not, like, a complete collection.

And then so when, the next time, I started to, like, really think, long and hard about her poetry was when Diana reached out and wanted to see if I could translate or co-translate with her.

So yeah, that's, that's my introduction to, well, my introduction to poetry goes… way longer than my exposure to Angeman's poetry, but, you know, because she was my contemporary, she had similar experiences as I did, and she was so talented and so brave to express them, I found her poetry very naturally intriguing, as well, and it resonates with me.

Abena Ntoso: Yeah, you, you mentioned, kind of being introduced to… Anjuman's poetry, when you were back in Afghanistan for some time doing some research, and then a space of time, and then Diana reaching out, and so I want to kind of learn from Diana, what your exposure to poetry was when you were growing up, andI know you mentioned you grew up here, but your family has ancestry in Assyria and—or former Assyria—and Armenia, was the literature and poetry of those regions part of your experience growing up? And what was your first introduction to Anjuman's poetry?

Diana Arterian: Sadly, no, in terms of, you know, reading… Assyrian or Armenian poetry. My mother was an incredible lover of literature and infused that into all of us, I mean myself and my siblings, though it wasn't necessarily poetry, just literature in general. I feel like anytime somebody asks me how I became a poet, I don't know what to say. Only because it feels like I sort of stumbled into it. I… you know, probably like many teens, I would scribble bad poems when I was having really big feelings, and then, picked up a poetry class, kind of on a women college, and it just kept going, and was really hooked… and continued to write bad poems for a very long time, and then I wrote less bad poems, and obviously was reading a lot of them at that point. 

I felt like, between being an English major and being a lover of poetry, I was… I felt like I had a lot of catching up to do, and, in terms of Anjuman, I learned about her when I was working on a kind of self-made project during my MFA in poetry, and I was writing about, or creating a chapbook about poets who had been harmed in any way by their oppressive governments because of their work. So, people like Lorca, or Nazam Hitmet, or, you know, people who, because of their poetry, they were considered dangerous to oppressive governments. 

I learned about Anjamun's death while I was researching for that, and it clearly wasn't the same. You know, this is the woman who died not because of her poetry, but just because of domestic violence. It's a far more quotidian death, as tragic as it is. And at the same time, I could tell that her poetry was really special. There were some English translations online to kind of honor her that were not.. they weren't done by literary translators, they were done by people who thought that she was remarkable, but there was clearly something there, and then I wanted to kind of create something… create a little chapbook just about her, and I got a copy of her complete works in Persian, and asked a family friend if he would help me translate just, you know, maybe three or four, and we could work on them together, and he just opened the book randomly and started to read it, and burst into tears right away. And… I… this was… he wasn't a particularly, you know, emotional or tearful person. So I could tell immediately that this was somebody who wrote very, very powerfully about her experience, but also operating within the lineage of Persian poetry. It's not always about her, it can also be about a persona. And I think largely because of that response, and how, you know, the process of working with him was really rewarding, I wanted to try. 

And clearly her poems are amazing, and so I really felt I had gotten bitten by the bug of literary translation, which is depending on the situation, it can often be like, oh my gosh, this feels like a really important person who is perhaps less known than they should be in the English reading and speaking world. I want to do what I can to bring them to a readership, and so I asked a professor of mine who is a translator, and they tapped into the Persian translation network, and I just saw the whole network light up through emails, like, email after email after email, and I eventually was connected with Marina. We were both getting our PhDs at the same time, and kind of whittling away at this in the free hours.

Abena Ntoso: You know, your commitment to this huge undertaking is amazing, both you and Marina. You mention being introduced to it because of, you know, doing this other project that introduced you to Nadia Angeman's work, but then it's a whole other thing for you to embark on this 10 years… 10 years, right?

Diana Arterian: I think it's actually 15.

Abena Ntoso: Oh my gosh!

Diana Arterian: I mean, we're not… we're not working on it every day, you know, it's like… bits and bobs in between writing my dissertation, and same with Marina, so…

Abena Ntoso: Yeah, I mean, but it's incredible, you know, that's… we're talking about a decade and a half of commitment to seeing this through. And It's something that can be difficult to do, and it's the kind of thing that sometimes, you know, we'll get excited about the project, and we'll start on it, and we'll be like, this is so important, and this is so cool, and then, you know, things happen in life, and, you know, it just kind of, like, falls to the wayside, so… How did you and Marina stick with it to see this translation through over the course of that decade and a half of… of work together. How did you… how did you both stick with it and see it to fruition?

Diana Arterian: I mean, I'll say for my part, probably one of the biggest… I mean, there are two things. Perhaps, obviously, because you know, her work is so important, and it feels really important that people who don't read Persian but read English can have access to it.

And, you know, I was in conversation with her brother, who was… one of her brothers who was just this enormous advocate of hers, and he would be understandably impatient, and I… because the publishing industry in the United States is so slow compared to most places, and I was also being really… we were being choosy about where we were wanting it to be published. I mean, I could have easily found a publisher earlier, but they wouldn't have necessarily done it the service that it deserved.

But probably the biggest instigator, aside from that, was I'm a member of the American Literary Translators Association, and it is just this incredible group of people, and there's an annual conference, and I loved going to the conference, and I kept learning more and more about this incredible effort of literary translation, and how important it is, and I think particularly now, you know, we're living in a time in which many governments and people in power across the world are trying to isolate and make people afraid of each other. Translated literature is something that is radically fighting against that. 

And people were so supportive. They were like, oh my gosh, this is, like, these translations that you and Marina have done are really great, and, you know, like, they were… they were like my cheerleaders that I would… it was almost like you're doing… you know, like a marathon, and the person just handing you Gatorade. Like, I feel like I was getting that, like, every year, and I'm like, okay, I just gotta keep, you know… I hit this… I hit this barrier, but, like, I'm gonna figure it out, I gotta work around it,

So, but also it's just, like, such a… I, I, like, it's such a rewarding practice. Like, not only the translation element, but also figuring out issues regarding copyright, and trying to, you know, imagine and dream about potential publishers, and connecting with people to give feedback, all the literature that you can read to learn more about, you know, Persian poetry, all of that stuff, it's… it's kind of hard to just let go of.

But I think, too, for me anyway, at some point it was like, I've put so much time into this if I stop it’d be so demoralizing. So, yeah, and I'm really glad, you know, grateful that World Poetry Books was the publisher, because they did such a beautiful job, and, it's been such a great, great experience to celebrate the book with Marina after his publication and all of that.

Marina Omar: Yeah, and, I cannot stress this enough how important Diana has been to this process of getting the book to the finish line. I did not… I wasn't involved at all in, you know, finding publishers and refining this book over and over, and working so hard on it. So, really, all the credit goes to Diana for, you know, taking this project to the finish line. For me, personally, committing to translating Anjuman's poetry was basically a chance that I got at redeeming myself, because, you know, when you live under an oppressive regime, it's very easy to feel frustrated and feel angry at the world, you know, at the, the sort of this human community, for not doing anything when you're suffering. You know, you think there should be… I should have more allies, I should have people in positions of power for… fighting for me. So, so it's really easy to be frustrated and be angry, and, and then, as a result, not kind of be paralyzed, and not really, do anything to express yourself in a way that could be, that could be very sort of informative, powerful, you know, the way, Anjuman expressed herself, and, and as, as, Diana mentioned earlier, it, it was her, her poetry that, that kind of made her life and eventually her death so significant. And so, for me, this was a chance to redeem myself for not having done something similar, you know, expressing my frustrations in a more fruitful way.

So, you know, I did not want to give that chance away. And, the other thing was, because I had a good command of both languages, I thought I was kind of best positioned to translate her poetry, kind of a… It felt like a responsibility as well, to translate her poetry and make sure that not a whole lot gets lost in translation. But this book is in, this book is published because of Diana's hard work.

Diana Arterian: You're so kind, Marina, thank you.

Abena Ntoso: I was, I was just gonna say, and, and yours, you know, there's something that, that you, you mentioned, that I… Could really relate to this… Sense of frustration and anger… at the oppression itself, but also the… the lack of advocacy that one feels should be there, right? When someone is in a position where they are prevented from being able to live out their full humanity and full dignity, one would think that people around who can do something about it would, right? would advocate, would say something. And so it is very frustrating, and a word that you mentioned a couple of times in redeeming yourself, I actually… it made me think more of finding the language, finding the words, because it's very difficult when you are in this situation to be able to find the words to be able to express what's really in your heart. 

I've been in situations where I've felt like I should say something, I want to say something, I need to say something, but I don't know how to say something without it just coming out as pure anger, or pure sadness, or pure… you know, there's… and I want to… I don't want to misrepresent my thoughts, and so, you know, one ends up not saying anything, right? Not because one is scared, although there is that element of fear in there as well. There's the fear of saying anything, but also because of having difficulty finding the words to be able to put your thoughts and experience accurately. 

And so it makes me think about, you know, this opportunity for translating Anjuman's work coming up, is it possible that with this opportunity to translate her work, there were words there that felt like they resonated, and that kind of maybe served as a combination lock, if, you know, for lack of a better metaphor, a combination lock that kind of opened up this… treasure trove of words that allow you to use your voice now, to be able to, speak on your experiences, and speak up, and advocate on behalf of others and motivate others to be able to support people who are still in those situations.

Marina Omar: Abena, you put it beautifully. Yes, as I mentioned, or make a mention in my translator's note, not only Anjuman had the courage, she also had the talent, right, to express herself so, so beautifully, and so deeply. Yes, I did experiment with writing poetry when I was in Afghanistan. I, in fact, have a few that I have to dig out someday and maybe send to Diana, just for the fun of it.

Diana Arterian: Queen, too. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Marina Omar: But I got discouraged, not by New Reinels, but by myself, because I thought, This is a… an incredible undertaking. I am not, I, I just don't have what it takes to write poetry. So, absolutely, there's… there's that element. You know, Anjuman expresses what I had felt, but was not able to express. You know, when I say courage, again, it wasn't, I mean, there's always fear, you know, but it was more, of, you know, I don't wanna… I don't wanna write and put something out there, and then years later, I come back to it, and I am embarrassed, because…

Diana Arterian: That's just part of… that's just part of it, Marina. That's just part of the game.

Marina Omar: Yeah, right? I guess it goes, for, for everything. You write your first paper, first essay, and then you go back to it, and you're like, what was I writing? What was I thinking? But yeah, there, there's, there's definitely that element of, here, this woman has expressed so deeply, so movingly, what I had felt all those years, and so, let's make this accessible to a much larger audience.

Abena Ntoso: I love that. I love that. And this idea of being able to find one's voice, It's something that stops so many of us, right? As writers and, and in our work, that we, and I think this goes for people the world over, right? All genders and backgrounds and there is a difficulty with finding words when you've been silenced, or you've been in a situation where it was not safe to speak up, or where no one encouraged you to speak up. And I know you mentioned, you had a very supportive family, which actually, I want to come back to that idea of, of the family support, but even when we have that, if we don't have the larger societal ecosystem that supports using and developing one's voice, it can be very difficult to do so. So I'm just kind of now thinking about, like, brainstorming, and I don't know, like, do either of you do any work now with supporting other people in developing their voices as writers or intellectuals or activists? And what ideas do you have for helping others to develop their voices?

Diana Arterian: I mean, I'll say for my part, so I've been an editor at Noemi Press, which is a really incredible small press, and I've been there for, I think over, definitely over a decade. And it's not just that, oh, you know, maybe I just acquire a manuscript, or I just look for typos or whatever. Like, we do really intensive editing with our authors, even those that when we have an annual prize. I think that that is where a lot of my work goes. In… in regards to your question, I have been a professor, Marina and I both are not in academia anymore, but, that certainly… was a very immediate way to work with young people, or people who are just kind of starting, and helping them kind of figure out what they… how to try to express themselves in the way that makes them unique.

I mean, I think probably one of the biggest things that I do as that kind… as an educator, or somebody who's working with somebody in that kind of way, is, like I just think of all the literature that they should read that is somehow connected to their work, whether they know it or not, and I often end up scribbling, lots and lots and lots of titles for people when I'm working with them, just because I think it can be really… I have found it to be really compelling as a writer when I think I'm doing something that feels so new to me, and then someone says, you know, you should really check out this book, and I'm like, oh my god, I… this was part of this lineage, and I just had no idea.

But yeah, mostly reading, and just, you know, Marina, I know you were saying, oh no, I don't want to write something and then be ashamed, but it's just like, yeah, that's what it is, often. But then every now and then, you are surprised. You know, you might look at something that you wrote a long time ago and be like, hey, that was actually, like, I was onto something, maybe even more than I knew.

Marina Omar: Oh, yes, definitely. There's, you know, there's something that I wrote, years ago, in Afghanistan. Another experience that I had was, I worked for an NGO that ran, sort of underground homeschooling for women, for girls, and this was elementary school level, and then also we were providing income-generating projects for women to would do something and we would pay them in return, and we went to their houses. This was all, you know, kind of underground that the Taliban did find out about us. Not, not all, not all our, it, we had, we were educating 3,000 girls. That they never found out about, or I would not be here. But they did find out about some of our income-generating projects for women, and they decided to collectively put all of us—there were 9 women. My mother also worked for the same organization, and the two of us and seven other women—they put us in prison for three, three days, possibly three hardest days of my life.

But there, I thought of a poem, like, three or four lines, but I did not write it, because they were searching through everything that we had. And so when I came out, I wrote it, and then years later, I came back to it, and I was like, well, you know, I was somewhat articulate here, and, you know, it captured some of that anguish and anger and frustration. 

But yeah, like Diana said, I think my sort of activism, if you will, it goes back to when I was mentoring my students. I taught political science—turns out to be a very depressing thing to teach—but I mentored my students, and this was the favorite part about being a university professor, you know, you got to know your students outside the classroom, both inside, but also outside the classroom. And one thing that I always told them was that, you know, I'm gonna tell you about what's wrong with the world, and then you guys will go change the world. Obviously that's, you know, there was some humor packed in that, but, yeah, I did mentoring, but then life happens, and you know, I guess pushing your kid through some of the same things. My daughter, for example, has a sort of a piggy bank that she puts money in regularly to send back to Afghanistan. So kind of raising awareness, for this generation who's very disconnected from, you know, how people live in Afghanistan, she's never visited, she's, I don't know when that time will come for her to visit, but making her aware, making other children, kind of making her the role model for other children in the family, starting them young on building that connection, nourishing their humanity. But yeah, other than that I, ashamedly, am not involved in any other efforts right now.

Diana Arterian: I mean, you helped translate this book, which is a pretty big effort that I was endlessly grateful for.

Marina Omar: Thank you.

Abena Ntoso: Yes, and if I may reflect back to you some of the incredible things that you mentioned, and the ways that you… Are making a huge difference. So, the phrase, nourishing their humanity—especially in these days, where we have AI and technology on the scene as, you know, now that's a whole other topic of discussion, but, you know, for better or for worse, it's here as part of society and as part of our work—in that kind of context—plus all of the oppression and social issues that are persisting in society that have persisted for a very long time—this idea of nourishing their humanity is… it is probably THE thing that education needs to be doing. And it's THE thing that parents need to be doing in this day and age, right? Like, in 2026, if you are not nourishing their humanity, what are you doing?

And so the fact that, you know, I love that you mentioned also this idea of, you know, when you were teaching, saying, you know, I'm gonna tell you what's happened, you know, all the things that have gone wrong in the world, and now it's for you to change the world. And it sounds, you know, I mean, you're right, on one hand, it sounds, like, very kind of naive, like, you're gonna change the world! But I actually say the same thing to my students, and I teach high school, juniors and seniors, and then I also teach college freshmen. And I say something along those lines. I say, we're going to read and write and discuss literature and nonfiction and I am expecting that we are going to come up with some solutions to the world's problems. It sounds kind of audacious to say that, but what I really want them to realize and to feel a sense of agency around is this idea that you can make a difference in the world. What you do and don't do makes a difference. 

And then, to reflect one more thing back to you that you mentioned a little while ago, but this idea that poetry and literature kept you alive during those years when you were prevented from finishing your education to the level that you wanted to, and then eventually had to just leave for the states. This idea that your mother's library and going to the bookstop and borrowing and purchasing books, and reading, and being immersed in literature actually kept you alive. It kept you connected to the idea of humanity and complexity and what's possible in the world.

So I'm putting all of those things together, and I'm gonna add one more thing that Diana mentioned, but this idea of—in trying to help unlock people's unique voices, or help them unlock their voice—you share titles, literature, books, stories, essays, poems that they might like, that might inspire them in many ways, both in content and craft. And I can attest, as someone who has benefited from a lot of different writing mentors over several years, that when folks know what I'm trying to do in my writing, and then they recommend things for me to read, it has opened up my world, my ideas of what's possible with writing and with my voice, and it has helped me immensely to be able to take those kinds of risks that I thought you just couldn't do in your writing. You know, you can't—I'm gonna use punctuation and spacing, right—you know, your paragraph has to be like this, and then it's… you read something, and you're like, wait a minute, this amazing thing that this person, this author, just wrote made me think about all of these new possibilities.

I'm putting all of that together, and so my last question for both of you is kind of around all of that possibility that literature and reading and writing and finding one's voice and connecting to one's humanity. In what ways has translating Anjuman's work transformed you in your life? Is there anything that it opened up for you in terms of possibilities, or perspectives, or ways that you go about the world, or go about your daily life?

Marina Omar: This is, this is, this is a tough question, and, you know, I… it reminded me of, the question that, Aria Auber asked at our, last month's, event, or if we, met, Anjuman, what we would, what did we want to say to her. It's a really wonderful, deep question that you've asked, Abena.

I guess poetry is not something that's been new to me, but Anjuman's poetry obviously has its own place. My relationship to language is kind of interesting. I learned English as a teenager, and then when we moved to the U.S, I started going to college, and for some reason, I've found political science very appealing, and, you know, philosophy, I minored in philosophy.

After being trained as a political scientist, my relationship with language changed a little bit in that, you know, I was using language very kind of rigidly, you conceptualize, you write about your theory, you write about your hypothesis, there's nothing subtle about that.

But after translating Anjuman's poetry, I feel like I have kind of reconnected with that part of me when I was reading poetry when I was growing up, coming back to how fascinating language can be, how fluid and smooth and artistic language can be. 

So, yeah, I'm, you know, I'm… every chance I get, I reread poetry. We read poetry for certain occasions, like Nowruz, which is the Persian New Year. We sort of sort of go around, and we read poetry. But I've also I found myself really reconnecting with that part of me that really enjoyed reading poetry before. So, yeah it kind of rekindled my, my love for literature in general, and poetry, as a form of art in particular.

Diana Arterian: I'll say for my part, I think, I mean, I started this project when I was, like, 24 or 25, and, you know, I was getting my master's, like, I was just kind of getting started as an artist and writer. And I think it really crystallized a lot of my politics, and how to put my politics in action as an artist. 

And with translation, especially with a translation like this, where it's the first English translation, you know, and I hope it's not the last. I truly hope that other people translate Anjuman's work. But it's the first one, and so it's like… and, you know, the way that she died, and, you know, I'm not Persian, I can't read it, like, all of these things that make it a really ethically sticky thing.

And then even having a co-translator, which has a really long and checkered history, where usually the person who knows the language is totally erased, and their name isn't anywhere, and they're… maybe they're paid only a little bit of money, and I realized that there weren't really any models for the kind of co-translation, or at least I wasn't really seeing them that I… how I wanted to operate as a really ethical co-translator with Marina, and so making sure that both of our names are on anything, and I got a grant to pay her, and all these other things. And that's not so much to pat me on the back, but so much of, like, this is something that I had to figure out… And, as somebody in their 20s trying to just muddle their way through.

And that definitely has kind of seeped into the other work that I do, of course. It's not just about, oh, okay, I'm experiencing the kind of solitary work of being at my desk and writing a poem. It's also, who am I writing for? Why do I feel the need to write it? How will it be when it's out there? What is the purpose of this art? Which is a really big question, obviously, but I think that that is really crucial, because I… that was definitely a lesson that I was learning, too, around that same time, of like, oh, I'm writing this thing, I feel so, like energized and, like, excited that I'm writing it, and then people read it and are like, this is devastating. And I'm like, oh man, do I want to be making something painful? You know, like, all these kinds of bigger questions.

As somebody who's creating something for other people to experience and read. But I think, perhaps most obviously, I am just an absolute zealot for literature translation, and the project of that, and what it can do for the world, even if it takes time, you know. I think about Stephen Mitchell's translations of Rilke, which I recently reread, and I'm just, you know, these… these… pieces of literature in translation that really changed the landscape, and it doesn't always have to be so grand, but it can be so potent, and remarkable, and I think that there are a few things that make me feel more pardoned about humanity than how I can feel connected to something that was written a thousand years ago, and feel seen by a person who wrote in a language I can't read, and who lived an amount of time ago, that feels hard for me to fathom. And I… yeah, I'm just constantly advocating for people to try to be translators, because it feels so important.

Abena Ntoso: You are both incredibly amazing. You have brought up so many beautiful aspects of literature and writing that just make it something so special. I just want to thank you both. You are doing incredible work in your writing and in your lives, and I'm just incredibly grateful that you spent this time sharing some of it with me.

Diana Arterian: Thank you so much, Abena. Your questions were so thoughtful and thorough.

Marina Omar: Thank you so much, Abena, for the opportunity for us to talk here, and introducing Anjuman to your listeners, and you're just moving that project forward that Diane and I started.

Abena Ntoso: We’ve been talking today with poet and translators Diana Arterian and Marina Omar. You’ve been listening to Backlit, and I am your host, Abena Ntoso. You can find more of Diana’s work at dianaarterian.com. Diana and Marina’s translation of Nadia Anjuman’s poetry, Smoke Drifts, is available for purchase using the link in the episode details. Today’s episode was produced in my home studio in Houston, Texas, in conjunction with Bricolage Lit, and features the song “Campfire” by Midnight Daydream in the intro and outro. For more information on Backlit, please visit abenantoso.com/podcast/backlit. Thank you for listening, and until next time, be well, read books, and let’s generate some new ideas together!