Afghanistan a Forbidden Country for Women

I journeyed from the East to the West, but I am neither from a specific place nor bound by geography.

It was the hot summer of August 15, 2021, and I was in Kabul, Afghanistan, sitting in the living room, following the news. As I hoped the Taliban would not take over, my brother shattered my optimism with his tearful announcement. “THE TALIBAN ARE HERE.” The world as I knew it had come crashing down.

The cold waves passed through my thoughts, winds roaring into my ears. The earth under me turned into a giant ocean. I was drowning. I could not breathe. I was falling apart. “HELP!” I cried but it seemed as if no one could hear me. My brother grabbed me by the arm and said in a small voice, “Can you believe it? The Taliban are just here in Kabul. There seems to be chaos everywhere.”

I was shivering involuntarily. I could not process what I heard.

“No, you’re mistaken. It’s impossible, they will never be able to enter Kabul,’’ I told him.

I felt terrible and confused. I did not know what to do. I was walking around in search of nothing. I felt weak and powerless. I kept telling myself that I had to leave, otherwise, as a woman I could have a miserable life under the control of a misogynist, oppressive and violent regime.

My mother’s stories of the Taliban’s rule from 1996 to 2001 came to mind, reminding me of the oppression and violence that awaited me if I stayed. I recalled a conversation we had. One day, we were all at the dinner table when my youngest brother asked my mom about her experience during the Taliban regime because it was a part of his history assignment. She looked puzzled and she didn’t know where to start:

“As a woman I had no independence. If I had to leave the house, I had to fully cover my body with a burqa. I could not leave the house alone. I had to be accompanied by your brother or father. And if we disobeyed their laws, we would be punished harshly.”

“Mom, I heard many women were beaten brutally who would walk around without the accompaniment of a male relative. Have you ever encountered such an incident?” I asked her.

“Yes, one day I went to the bazzar to get some groceries and suddenly I heard a woman screaming. I saw a Talib whipping her for showing an inch or two of her skin,” she told us. “I can also recall a story of a woman who eloped with a boy that she loved because her family was forcing her to marry a man who was twice her age. She was stoned to death and found guilty of adultery, despite there being no evidence.”

We were horrified and an air of melancholy filled the room because we lived in a time where women enjoyed many rights. There was a Ministry of Women’s Affairs and in 2009 women pushed the government to pass a law that addresses violence against women. Women served in the army, the police force and as lawyers and judges. Girls attended schools and universities and became members of Parliament.While the situation in Afghanistan had been difficult for women over the past two decades, there was at least a shift in the right direction and support for change.

My mom continued the story — it got worse. She heard from a neighbor of a woman whose thumb was cut off for wearing nail varnish.

“For wearing nail varnish. What kind of policy is that?” my brother cried.

The Taliban’s return to power in Kabul after twenty-one years was a harrowing experience. Every memory of that day is engraved in me and the constant never-ending pain that engulfed my body, almost unbearable to the point of numbness. I was worried for my sister who was an attorney, her life could be in danger, as lawyers were a prime target of the Taliban. I was relieved to hear that she was safe, though I knew that her dreams and hard work would be shattered. After the takeover, women were not allowed to return to their jobs, and the future seemed bleak.

The first night after the Taliban’s arrival was endless, as if darkness had consumed the world. I struggled to get out of bed.

I knew I had to escape this terror and left for Qatar on August 17th, leaving behind my family and homeland.

I cannot imagine the experiences of women who continue to live in this prison of oppression. Nonetheless, Afghan women are putting their lives at risk to fight against the Taliban and subvert their harsh and extreme system. They are at the forefront of protests and are taking tremendous risks to stand up for their rights. On September 3rd, women in Kabul, Badakhshan, and Herat faced the Taliban’s atrocity, and refused to be silenced. The Taliban may try to silence women’s voices, but they cannot extinguish their spirit. Afghan women are resilient and continue to fight for their rights, even when the world is watching in silence. Some of these protesters were women working in different sectors of government and lost their jobs following the Taliban seizure. Protesters introduced resolutions that would allow females to work, ensuring that women are included in the government’s decisions making about women’s affairs, establishing policies to promote women’s rights, and preservation of posts, which were occupied by women, and the formation of a protected environment for women.

However, none of their demands were met. Since August of 2022, most Afghan girls above the sixth grade have been banned from school due to the new policies introduced by the Taliban. There are dozens of pieces of evidence that tell us the Taliban has not changed; they appear to have brought the populations they control the same repressive policies and harsh brand of Islamic justice that were part of their previous rule.

During the Taliban’s previous regime my eldest sister who was only nine years old could not attend school, and my parents had to home-school her. When I asked my mom how she felt about it she replied, “We agonized that our first child could not go to school but we made sure that she was not deprived of getting an education. Nevertheless, I think she was one of the luckiest girls because she had open-minded and well-educated parents. Not all girls at the time were as lucky.”

She told me of her relatives whose daughters could not only get an education but were married off at a very young age and lived miserable lives. She did not want any of this to happen to my sister and me, who lived under Taliban rule for three days. But once again history is repeating itself, and my mom is once again witnessing Taliban barbrity. Though she does not have to worry about her daughter’s education, she still feels terrible when she sees other girls who can no longer pursue their dreams. One of those girls is my cousin, only 13-years-old. She was one of the thousands of jubilant girls who flocked back to schools reopening across the country for the first time since the Taliban seized power in August. But just hours into classes, the education ministry announced a policy reversal. When I talked to her she was outraged, and told me while weeping, “My ambitions and my dreams of becoming a doctor have been burned down to ashes. Though, there is a voice telling me to stay strong and fight for what’s mine.”

I could not believe this was coming from a 13-year-old girl.

As an Afghan woman, I am privileged because I have the opportunity to study in one of the best colleges in the United States. But, for thousands of Afghan girls my reality has become their dream. I am pursuing my education at Middlebury College, majoring in International Relations. The reason I chose to study International Relations is because of the complicated political situation in Afghanistan. I want to learn and study more about the politics of Afghanistan and learn what’s behind consistent war. Fortunately, I am able to communicate with my family and close relatives through Whatsapp and learn about the situation in Afghanistan and women’s treatment by the Taliban. I mostly communicate with my mom, sisters and my cousins. Recently, I heard from my mom that my sister has not returned to her job and my cousins who are from the age of 11–17 are still out of school.

I am obliged to spread the story of Afghan women who are currently living under the suppression of a totalitarian regime once considered terrorists.