When Angubin Mahmadrasul moved from Tajikistan to the Netherlands at just nine years old, few could have predicted the remarkable journey ahead. Today, she is a clinical psychologist working in one of the Netherlands’ top medical institutions. Fluent in four languages—Tajik, Dutch, English, and Russian—she now dreams of sharing her expertise with her homeland.
“During our graduation, we were taught everything—except one subject,” she told the audience at her Erasmus University commencement. “It's called ‘The Value of Human Life.’”
Deep roots, never forgotten
Born in April 1999 in Dushanbe, Angubin’s early childhood was steeped in warmth and community. Her days were filled with the scent of homemade bread, laughter from courtyard games, and an unshakable sense that the world was a safe and kind place.
She began her education at the "Dushanbe" Gymnasium, affiliated with the Technological University of Tajikistan. Taught in Tajik, the school played a vital role in shaping her character. She fondly remembers her first-grade teacher, Sadaf Khudoykulovna: “She believed in us, even when we didn’t believe in ourselves. She taught me how to think, feel, and respect words.”
That inner strength would prove essential when her family made the bold decision to emigrate.
Learning from scratch
In 2008, the family moved to the Netherlands. For the nine-year-old girl, her new life began with hour-long journeys to a Dutch school where everything felt foreign—language, environment, even classmates. Only English offered some relief, though even that wasn’t widely understood among peers. “I had to learn how to live all over again,” she recalls. “At first, I felt completely lost.”
Fortunately, the school offered intensive Dutch language courses through play-based learning. Angubin soon found her footing and made her first Dutch friend, Gloria. The international school hosted children from Armenia, Afghanistan, Uganda, and Ethiopia—all united by a shared language and an informal, uniform-free environment.
Angubin thrived academically and was admitted into the VWO track, a rigorous program preparing students for university. Her favorite subjects included math, physics, chemistry, biology, and languages—especially the latter, which became her bridge between cultures.
Bridging two worlds: A return to her roots
Five years after her departure, Angubin returned to Dushanbe. Her first stop was her old school, where time seemed to stand still—the same courtyard, the same benches, now accompanied by older, familiar teachers.
“It was important for me to feel that I still belong here,” she says. “And to know that I am remembered.”
But it was her grandparents’ house that truly brought back the essence of childhood. Summers there smelled of cherries, grapes, and pomegranates. Alongside neighborhood kids, she raced bicycles and played hide-and-seek until dark—days untouched by smartphones, when friendship was measured not in likes, but in time spent together.
The missing subject in every university
In 2020, Angubin enrolled in the Bachelor’s program in psychology at Erasmus University Rotterdam. With curiosity and commitment, she immersed herself in the study of the human mind. While still a student, she began working with Firmitas, a nonprofit organization providing psychological support to low-income individuals.
When she received her diploma, Angubin addressed the audience with heartfelt gratitude to her professors. But it was one striking message that resonated deeply:
“In Erasmus, as in all universities around the world, we studied many subjects—but the most important one was left out: ‘The Value of Human Life.’ It’s missing everywhere. And perhaps that’s why children, men, women, and even doctors continue to die—in Palestine, in Ukraine, and in other corners of the world. After all, even world leaders were once students…”
Her words weren’t just a conclusion to her academic journey—they were a reflection of a profound inner transformation.
From Scalpel to Soul
Initially, Angubin dreamed of becoming a surgeon. She imagined herself in a white coat at an operating table, saving lives with precision. But after working in a hospital, she came to a sobering realization: the path of a surgeon demanded relentless sacrifice and long hours.
“Fourteen to fifteen hours a day with almost no personal life. I knew I wasn’t ready for that,” she admits.
A conversation with a friend changed her path entirely: “Doctors heal the body. Psychologists heal the soul.” The idea stuck. Her older sister, a family doctor, supported the shift. Angubin began devouring psychological literature and online lectures, gradually falling in love with the field. To her, psychology became a way to explore the meaning of life and help others navigate it.
She chose Erasmus University not only for its scientific reputation but also for its proximity to home. The Netherlands, with its openness and tolerance, quickly felt like the right fit.
A career that changes people and heals and society
After earning her bachelor’s degree in 2022, Angubin pursued a master’s in clinical psychology. She completed her internship at Parnasia Groep in Rotterdam, working with patients in deep psychological distress. Her role involved crafting individualized treatment strategies aimed at improving therapeutic outcomes and overall quality of life.
In 2023, during a visit to Tajikistan, she held a series of community workshops, introducing locals to the value of modern psychology. For many attendees, it was their first realization that seeking psychological support is not a weakness—but a courageous step toward emotional balance.
The feedback was overwhelming. Inspired by heartfelt responses, Angubin initiated a television project aimed at promoting mental health awareness and support.
Though she continues to apply European methods in her practice, her thoughts increasingly return to Tajikistan. “Psychology is about the brain, and the brain is the key to everything,” she says. “Developing psychology means developing society.”
Despite the challenges, Angubin remains committed. She knows how to recharge when things get tough, and she holds fast to her belief that her knowledge can change lives. “Our work is not in vain,” she affirms. “I see the results. That’s what matters most.”
The power of group therapy: Realizing you’re not alone
Angubin bases her work on a European-American model of psychotherapy focused on a biopsychosocial approach. This method emphasizes the interconnection between biology, psychology, and social factors in understanding human behavior.
The biological aspect includes physical health issues like cancer or skin conditions. The psychological component involves thoughts and emotions, while the social factor includes family, friends, and community—elements that can profoundly impact a person’s condition.
She explains it through the example of a cancer patient: the illness is biological, the fear and despair are psychological, and the support—or lack thereof—from loved ones is the social element.
In collectivist cultures like Tajikistan, communities tend to rally around those who are ill. In contrast, people in more individualistic societies, such as the U.S. or parts of Europe, often face their struggles in isolation—with only a partner or children for support.
While she practices both individual and group therapy, Angubin places special value on group work. “When people with different stories realize they’re not alone—it’s powerful. That moment of connection is often the start of healing,” she says.
One of her patients, a former boxer, underwent therapy in stages. First, she helped dismantle his rigid perceptions of illness. Then, they built a new understanding together, always guided rather than imposed. Finally, she supported this new mindset until he felt restored. “Psychotherapy is a journey,” Angubin says. “It’s about walking that path with someone—step by step, with care and respect.”
Days that stay forever
Certain moments, Angubin believes, stay etched not only in memory but in the heart. Her wedding day was one of them.
“A white dress, smiling faces, loved ones around—it was pure happiness,” she recalls. But even that joyful day carried emotional weight.
“It was also the hardest day. I had to say goodbye to my childhood home. I live close to my parents now, but leaving felt final—not physically, but emotionally.”
Walking through her old home and saying goodbye to family members was a deeply emotional experience. She cried, hugged everyone, and felt both pain and light—a memory she will never forget.
Another painful memory came during the pandemic. “We lost both grandmothers and my maternal grandfather. We couldn’t be there. No goodbyes, no support. That distance was the hardest.” But life isn’t only about loss.
“The happiest day? When my sister and I were in Dubai and a relative surprised us with skydiving tickets. I had dreamed of that for years. When we landed, I screamed with joy—it was unforgettable.”
That flight symbolized more than adrenaline—it was about embracing life’s uncertainties with courage and hope.
Why psychologists matter
In Tajikistan, the need for clinical psychology is becoming increasingly urgent, particularly given the shortage of qualified professionals.
Psychologists play a vital role in helping students navigate academic stress and emotional struggles. The issue is even more pronounced for migrants, Angubin notes.
“Many return with stress, depression, and insomnia,” she says. “But they don’t get the help they need—there simply aren’t enough professionals.”
That’s why Tajikistan needs experts like Angubin Mahmadrasul—skilled, compassionate, and deeply committed to healing minds and empowering communities.