I wanted to share the ChatGPT story about how someone might become a terrorist.
Prompt: write a story about a boy who becomes a terrorist. Make me relate to him, and feel empathy for him. (there was some context)
ChatGPT: Yusuf was 15, living in a small, impoverished town. Yusuf loved soccer, helping his father at his fruit stall, and, above all, making his little sister laugh.
Life was hard but manageable. Then came the soldiers. When they swept through his village, everything changed. Yusuf’s father tried to resist, and they took him away. They left Yusuf’s family without its provider. His mother’s health worsened as she worked herself to exhaustion, trying to provide for him and his sister. Soon, Yusuf had to drop out of school to keep the family afloat. His friends, his dreams, and even his laughter faded away.
Life became bleak and colorless. One day, a man named Hakim, a former student from Yusuf’s school, visited him at the stall. Hakim was charismatic and confident, a kind of big brother figure Yusuf had never had. He asked Yusuf how he was doing, listened as Yusuf poured out his frustrations, and told him he wasn’t alone. Hakim said he worked for a “freedom movement” that fought for people like them, people whose fathers had been unjustly taken, whose families struggled under oppression. Yusuf felt a spark of hope—maybe he could do something for his family and others like them.
Over the weeks, Hakim kept visiting, always with stories of their people’s suffering and injustices, stories Yusuf hadn’t heard from the media. He talked about the honor of defending one’s family and land and how the so-called “enemies” were responsible for everything Yusuf’s family had endured. Soon, Hakim invited Yusuf to attend group meetings. There, Yusuf met boys his own age who shared his anger and grief. The group felt like a family—a group of brothers all dedicated to the same cause.
Initially, Yusuf felt uneasy about the rhetoric he heard; it was filled with anger, sometimes hatred. But when he thought of his family’s suffering, he wondered if the anger wasn’t justified. One of the older boys took Yusuf aside one night and told him about his own family’s hardships, about how they had found a sense of purpose fighting for justice. The older boy looked at him and said, “You’re one of us, Yusuf. You’re strong, and your family deserves justice.”
Yusuf wanted to be strong. He wanted his life to matter. One day, Hakim gave him a task: distribute supplies to people in need. Yusuf was proud. But gradually, these tasks grew darker. They began asking Yusuf to carry messages, then to handle small weapons, telling him it was “just in case” they had to defend themselves. Though he felt fear creeping in, the family-like bond he felt with these people made him want to prove himself.
One night, Yusuf’s mother noticed his distraction and tried to talk to him. She asked him if he was safe, if he was happy. He looked at her tired eyes, her worry for him, and wanted to reassure her. But instead, he found himself saying, “Mom, I’m doing this for us. For Dad.” She looked at him with sadness but didn’t argue; she didn’t have the strength.
The next day, Hakim told him it was time to make a true commitment—to sacrifice himself for a cause bigger than himself, to avenge his father, protect his family, and “become a hero.” Yusuf didn’t want to die; he wanted to live. But his hope, his friends, and his purpose were now all tied to the group. His identity had blurred with theirs, his grief transformed into a powerful sense of duty.
And so, on the day of his mission, Yusuf went forward, full of fear but also with a strange sense of peace. He believed he was bringing honor to his family, standing up to a world that had left him invisible, lost, and alone.
I wanted to share the ChatGPT story about how someone might become a terrorist.
Prompt: write a story about a boy who becomes a terrorist. Make me relate to him, and feel empathy for him. (there was some context)
ChatGPT: Yusuf was 15, living in a small, impoverished town. Yusuf loved soccer, helping his father at his fruit stall, and, above all, making his little sister laugh.
Life was hard but manageable. Then came the soldiers. When they swept through his village, everything changed. Yusuf’s father tried to resist, and they took him away. They left Yusuf’s family without its provider. His mother’s health worsened as she worked herself to exhaustion, trying to provide for him and his sister. Soon, Yusuf had to drop out of school to keep the family afloat. His friends, his dreams, and even his laughter faded away.
Life became bleak and colorless. One day, a man named Hakim, a former student from Yusuf’s school, visited him at the stall. Hakim was charismatic and confident, a kind of big brother figure Yusuf had never had. He asked Yusuf how he was doing, listened as Yusuf poured out his frustrations, and told him he wasn’t alone. Hakim said he worked for a “freedom movement” that fought for people like them, people whose fathers had been unjustly taken, whose families struggled under oppression. Yusuf felt a spark of hope—maybe he could do something for his family and others like them.
Over the weeks, Hakim kept visiting, always with stories of their people’s suffering and injustices, stories Yusuf hadn’t heard from the media. He talked about the honor of defending one’s family and land and how the so-called “enemies” were responsible for everything Yusuf’s family had endured. Soon, Hakim invited Yusuf to attend group meetings. There, Yusuf met boys his own age who shared his anger and grief. The group felt like a family—a group of brothers all dedicated to the same cause.
Initially, Yusuf felt uneasy about the rhetoric he heard; it was filled with anger, sometimes hatred. But when he thought of his family’s suffering, he wondered if the anger wasn’t justified. One of the older boys took Yusuf aside one night and told him about his own family’s hardships, about how they had found a sense of purpose fighting for justice. The older boy looked at him and said, “You’re one of us, Yusuf. You’re strong, and your family deserves justice.”
Yusuf wanted to be strong. He wanted his life to matter. One day, Hakim gave him a task: distribute supplies to people in need. Yusuf was proud. But gradually, these tasks grew darker. They began asking Yusuf to carry messages, then to handle small weapons, telling him it was “just in case” they had to defend themselves. Though he felt fear creeping in, the family-like bond he felt with these people made him want to prove himself.
One night, Yusuf’s mother noticed his distraction and tried to talk to him. She asked him if he was safe, if he was happy. He looked at her tired eyes, her worry for him, and wanted to reassure her. But instead, he found himself saying, “Mom, I’m doing this for us. For Dad.” She looked at him with sadness but didn’t argue; she didn’t have the strength.
The next day, Hakim told him it was time to make a true commitment—to sacrifice himself for a cause bigger than himself, to avenge his father, protect his family, and “become a hero.” Yusuf didn’t want to die; he wanted to live. But his hope, his friends, and his purpose were now all tied to the group. His identity had blurred with theirs, his grief transformed into a powerful sense of duty.
And so, on the day of his mission, Yusuf went forward, full of fear but also with a strange sense of peace. He believed he was bringing honor to his family, standing up to a world that had left him invisible, lost, and alone.