When I first heard that a growing community of Afghan refugees had taken root here in Utah, I was both intrigued and concerned. Intrigued because, as someone who has spent much of my life navigating the interplay of faith, culture, and identity, I knew their experience would shed light on what it means to maintain one’s heritage in a new land. Concerned because I also understood that any immigrant community—especially one with such a dramatic recent history—faces unique challenges and pressures.
Over the past two decades, Utah has increasingly become a home for people fleeing conflict zones. This includes the approximately 900 families, or around 5,000 individuals, from Afghanistan who have resettled in our state. While their numbers may seem small compared to Utah’s overall population, the impact of their arrival is significant. Many came here after the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, a moment of global attention that left countless Afghan allies and civilians in desperate need of safe havens.
These Afghan families have brought with them rich traditions, from cuisine to craftsmanship, that are now woven into Utah’s cultural tapestry. I’ve seen their small businesses—restaurants serving authentic Afghan kebabs, tailoring shops stitching together pieces of both the old and new world—begin to flourish. They are building lives here, often starting from scratch, with an admirable determination that reminds me of other immigrant groups who have made Utah their home over the centuries.
However, these newcomers face profound challenges. The language barrier remains a major hurdle. Despite Utah’s reputation for welcoming immigrants, many Afghan families struggle to learn English while holding down multiple jobs to make ends meet. Employment itself can be precarious; many refugees find themselves in low-paying roles that don’t reflect the skills they honed back home. Doctors, teachers, and engineers from Afghanistan often must start over, their credentials unrecognized, their expertise undervalued.
Moreover, cultural integration isn’t always smooth. Utah’s dominant culture—shaped by its deep Christian heritage, particularly the LDS Church—may seem foreign and even isolating for some Afghan families who come from a predominantly Islamic society. While I can relate as someone who made the journey from Islam to Christianity, the path is never simple. I imagine that some of these Afghan refugees must grapple with questions of faith, community, and belonging as they adapt to life in a place that is at once welcoming and profoundly different from what they’ve known.
Yet, there is hope in the relationships that have started to form. Local churches, including some LDS congregations, have stepped in to offer assistance—providing food, clothing, and even mentorship. Nonprofits and resettlement agencies have worked tirelessly to help Afghan families find stable housing and enroll their children in school. And the Afghan community itself is growing stronger, finding ways to support one another and create a sense of home away from home.
As someone who has worn many hats—both personally and professionally—I am deeply moved by the resilience I see in this new chapter of Utah’s immigrant story. These Afghan families are not just rebuilding their own lives; they are enriching the broader Utah community. The road ahead will not be easy, but I have faith that, with continued support and understanding, these families will thrive, and Utah will be better for it.
Citations
- Refugee resettlement data, Utah Refugee Services Office, 2025.
- "Afghan Refugees Face Challenges in Utah," Salt Lake Tribune, 2024.
- Utah Refugee Resettlement Coalition annual report, 2023.
- Personal interviews with Afghan refugees, 2024-2025.
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