NEWS CENTER - Journalist Aida, one of the women who continues to fight despite all the pressure and oppression from the Taliban, said, "If we don't tell our stories, others will tell them for us. I believe that our voices can one day lead to meaningful change.”

 

"We may appear restricted on the outside, but within us there are still dreams, determination, and a voice of protest." These words belong to Aida, a journalist in Afghanistan. A voice of resistance against the oppression of the Taliban, who regained power after 20 years (15 August 2021), Aida is just one of many women whose most basic human rights – to work, read and travel – have been taken away, and who are even forbidden from singing, speaking loudly or going out into the street. The journalist, whose name we have changed to Aida for her safety, is a correspondent for the Afghanistan Women's News Agency (AWNA), which voices the concerns of women in the country to the world. 

 

A third-year student at Herat University's Faculty of Journalism when her right to education was denied by the Taliban, Aida later worked for local media organisations and presented the news for a year, but was forced to leave her job due to Taliban practices. On the way to 8 March, International Women's Day, we spoke with Aida about the struggle and lives of women in Afghanistan under Taliban rule, where Pakistan has started a war and masculinity shows its darkest face, and how they continue to sustain solidarity through mutual aid.  

 

Life in Afghanistan has become even more difficult for women since the Taliban came to power. What are you experiencing?

 

I was in my third year at the Faculty of Journalism at Herat University when I was barred from continuing my education by the Taliban. After that, in order to escape depression and isolation at home, I began learning journalism through self-study and online courses and started working with local media outlets. Unfortunately, after one year of working as a news presenter, I was forced to leave my job due to Taliban restrictions. It has now been nearly five years that I have been collaborating with various media organizations, working online from home and spending most of my time writing reports.

 

With the Taliban’s return to power, it felt as if my life fell from the sky to the ground. For years, despite severe economic hardship and having no family provider, I prepared for the university entrance exam (Kankor). I still remember that I could not afford the academy fees, and they would not allow me to enter the classroom, so I stood behind the window taking notes and studying secretly. Even then, I did not give up. I kept striving for a better future, for my dream of becoming a journalist, and to support my family financially. Finally, I was admitted to the Faculty of Journalism with high marks and began learning and dreaming of one day working in a major media outlet. But it did not take long before the Taliban seized power, and I felt as though I, along with all my efforts and big dreams, was thrown into a dark prison. For four years now, it feels as though I have been chained simply for being a woman.

 

With new decrees and laws being issued every day, women's traces in life are being erased.  How are you fighting back?

Although I sometimes manage to work, Taliban restrictions have pushed me into severe economic hardship. I am 23 years old and carry the responsibility of a seven-member family. At times, because of work limitations, I am unable even to pay for electricity, water, or bread. Since the Taliban took power, I feel as though I have not lived my youth. At 20 or 23, I feel like a 70-year-old woman worn down by suffering. What I endure under their rule is difficult and painful to describe. I have struggled with severe depression and, at times, have even thought about suicide. Yet I tell myself that I will not surrender. One day, the sun will shine on my life the way I have always hoped.

 

As I mentioned, I continue to resist by taking online courses, writing reports, preparing raw materials for stories, and editing them. I refuse to bow my head to the Taliban’s restrictions and continue my struggle.

 

New laws concerning crimes against women and children have been passed. How will this affect women in this country?

 

Regarding the Taliban’s penal code, it must be said that by effectively legalizing the beating of women by their husbands, this document creates conditions that increase violence. Such an approach has a deeply negative impact on women’s lives and safety and can have harmful consequences for society as a whole.

 

Women's employment is linked to situations such as there being no one else in the family to work, or there being no men in the family. How do women survive in a place where the economy is so bad?

 

In Afghanistan, many women live in conditions where access to formal employment is restricted or dependent on having a male guardian. Nevertheless, to survive and meet their basic needs, they pursue various alternatives. Some turn to home-based work such as tailoring, making pickles and jam, baking bread, carpet weaving, and handicrafts in order to earn a small income from inside their homes. Others contribute through family farming, livestock care, or selling small products in local markets. In cities, some women provide private tutoring for girls, offer home-based beauty services, or sell products online.

 

In addition to these efforts, many families depend on support from relatives, remittances from migrants, or humanitarian assistance. However, incomes are often insufficient, and women are forced to practice extreme frugality, reduce meals, and prioritize the needs of children in order to manage daily life. Overall, women’s survival in such a fragile economy relies largely on informal labor, family solidarity, and personal resilience—a constant effort to preserve dignity and continue living despite restrictions.

 

 

We have received information that there are families who sell their daughters. Is this true? Why do families do this?

 

In recent years, reports from some parts of Afghanistan have indicated that certain families have sold their young daughters or married them off in exchange for money or to repay debts. This often occurs in the form of forced marriages, child engagements, or giving a girl in settlement of a loan; in practice, however, it resembles an economic transaction. The primary cause of this phenomenon is severe poverty and economic crisis. Many families face unemployment, debt, hunger, and insufficient aid, and when they see no other way to meet basic needs, they resort to harmful decisions. In some cases, traditional pressures, insecurity, or attempts to reduce the number of dependents also play a role.

 

Such practices constitute a clear violation of the rights of women and children and carry serious physical, psychological, and social consequences for girls. The solution lies in economic support for families, access to education, and the creation of sustainable livelihood opportunities—not in forced and early marriages.

 

As a woman and a journalist, how do you survive in Afghanistan? Your work involves high risks. Why do you insist on doing this job?

 

 

As a woman and a journalist in Afghanistan, I work every day under fear and insecurity. I know this profession carries serious risks for me—from threats and pressure to the risk of detention or complete removal from public life. At times, I truly feel as though I am working in the face of death. Yet despite these fears, I refuse to stop.

 

The reason is clear: I am the voice of women whose voices have been silenced. When women in my country are deprived of education, work, and even a simple presence in society, remaining silent would mean accepting that silence. I work to bring their suffering, resilience, and hope to the attention of the international community; to show the world that behind every statistic, there are real lives and suppressed dreams.

 

This path may be dangerous, but I believe the truth is worth the risk. If we do not tell our own stories, others will tell them for us. I have chosen to write despite the fear, because I believe that our voice—however quiet—can one day lead to meaningful change.

 

Do you have a message for International Women's Day? What would you like to say to women in other countries?

 

For me, March 8 is not just a symbolic day; it is a reminder of the true meaning of resistance and hope. At a time when many women in Afghanistan are deprived of their rights to education, work, and participation in society, this day represents endurance. We may appear restricted on the outside, but within us there are still dreams, determination, and a voice of protest.

 

To women in other countries, I say: the freedoms and opportunities you have today are the result of long struggles by the women who came before you. Protect those achievements, and be the voice of women who are denied the chance to speak. Your solidarity can break the walls of silence. When you advocate for the rights of Afghan women, amplify our stories, and raise our names in international forums, you give us hope.

 

I also ask women and international organizations in other countries to help create opportunities for me and for Afghan girls to continue our education by any possible means. Education for us is not just a right; it is a lifeline, a tool for independence, and our only hope for building a better future. Even online learning opportunities, scholarships, support programs, and safe educational pathways can transform our lives.

 

We do not ask for pity; we ask for opportunity. I believe that if we have access to education and work, we can build our own future. March 8 is, for me, a day to renew my commitment: despite all restrictions, I am still standing, still learning, and still hopeful that one day the sun of freedom will shine on the lives of all Afghan women.

 

MA / Berivan Kutlu