While other girls reach for the stars, Afghan girls are denied the basic right to education

Imani White  | 

From becoming a tailor to teaching other girls in secret, Afghan girls share their lives under Taliban rule.

September 15 marks the three-year ban on girls' education in Afghanistan. We asked Erin Hung, an illustrator and storyteller, to depict the lives and wishes of Afghan girls — and the result is one of a kind.

With support from Malala Fund, the Civic Engagement Project (CEP) is working with young Afghan women activists in the diaspora to tackle gender apartheid. Through coalition-building and training workshops, they're developing bold policy ideas and advocacy strategies to drive real change.

"You might find it hard to believe, but after Afghanistan fell to the Taliban, I found myself at the end of a dark tunnel. Before the Taliban took over, I was in the final stages of 11th grade, just one year away from the golden era of my university education. But when Afghanistan fell, I was stripped of my right to education. Believe me, this is the height of misery for me and my generation. If it weren’t for the Taliban, we would be halfway through our university education by now.

It pains me deeply to think that in the 21st century, while women and girls in other countries are reaching for the stars, we Afghan girls have been deprived of the most basic right—education—for three long years. I curse my womanhood and the fact that I was born a girl in this country. What troubles me even more is that for three years, millions of girl students have lived in uncertainty, and the world has remained silent."

— Sima, 20, Kabul Province

"I still remember the last hour of class vividly. Our math teacher shared stories about the dark days of the first Taliban regime, and we all silently wished they would never return to Afghanistan. But our hopes were shattered when our country fell, and everything our teacher had warned us about came true. I was denied my right to education simply because I am a girl.

The day I learned that the Taliban had closed the school gates to girls above the sixth grade, I was so overwhelmed with anxiety that I fainted and had to be taken to the hospital. My family assured me that this decision was temporary and that schools would reopen for girls in the new year, but that day never came.

My mental health has deteriorated so much that I have attempted suicide multiple times. I don’t know how much longer I can endure this situation. I can’t speak for others, but believe me, I fear I will lose my mind." 

— Bahara, 21, Bamyan Province

"In 2021, I was in the eighth grade. When the schools reopened for boys, I dressed up and eagerly headed to school. But when I arrived, the girls’ school gate was closed. An armed Taliban guard, stationed by the gate, coldly informed us that girls were not allowed to enter and ordered us to go back home. My tears flowed freely as a heavy lump formed in my throat. I pleaded, 'Uncle, please let us go to school. What is our crime? Why don’t we have the right to study?' He sternly responded, 'Go, don’t talk too much; you’re a woman. Go learn housework.' His words weighed on me like a mountain. Along with the other girls, I returned home, and that day marked the end of my formal education.

For the past three years, only God knows what I have endured. I’ve lost three academic years. In the beginning, I tried to continue my studies through language and math courses, but the Taliban shut those down as well. Now, I work as an apprentice in tailoring because my mother says that if I don’t have knowledge, I should at least have a skill. I beg anyone with the power to change this, please remove the Taliban from Afghanistan so we can return to school."

— Ayesha, 8th grader in Kabul Province

"I was 16 years old and in the 10th grade when the republic fell. Shortly after, girls were banned from attending school. This decision was not only against Islam and human rights but was also a ridiculous action against girls that, unfortunately, continues to this day. 

The Taliban decreed the wearing of the hijab. I dressed in black, put on a cape and chador, and happily set off for school. Along the way, I joined a few other girls, and together, we felt like we were flying with joy towards school. But when we entered the school and went to our class, the principal and headteacher came in after a few minutes and told us that girls above the 6th grade were not allowed to attend school until further notice. Upon hearing this, all the girls laid their heads on their desks and wept. 

Now, I am 19 years old, but legally I am still a 10th-grade student, and it feels terrible not to have a high school graduation certificate yet. In the early days of the regime change, despair was evident in everyone’s eyes. These conditions were really difficult for me, and I told myself that until these conditions end, I should at least preserve my mental capabilities. But how?"

— Shabahat, Badakhshan Province

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Meet the Author
Meet the Author
Imani White

(she/her) is the managing editor at Malala Fund. She’s a lover of public libraries, film photography, and friendly stray cats.