As Afghanistan marks two years of Taliban rule, a number of students are expressing concern over being confined to their homes by the closure of school gates. Those who are experiencing emotional and psychological distress assert that their homes have become “prisons.” According to them, following the closure of schools, a majority of female students have either migrated or been coerced into underage and forced marriages. School students emphasize that if girls’ education is prohibited, the country will plunge into “darkness.” Nevertheless, female students are urging the Taliban to swiftly reopen the gates of schools for them.
Two years ago, on August 15, the Taliban regained control over Afghanistan for the second time. With their renewed dominance and the collapse of the republic system, the political, security, social, economic, educational, and cultural structures crumbled. Politicians, military personnel, intellectuals, media figures, and civil activists scattered to the four corners of the world, leaving the country in chaos and instability. Amidst this, however, women have suffered more than others and paid a disproportionate price.
Following their takeover of Kabul, the Taliban have prohibited women from participating in government offices and imposed extensive restrictions against them. They have also closed the doors of schools and universities to girls and women. Now, as the two-year rule of the Taliban has passed, some female student express, “These days are so dark, painful, tragic, and terrifying that they were beyond imagination for us.”
Wahida, Belqis, and Maryam (pseudonyms) are three students in the ninth grade at a girls’ school in northern Kabul. They share painful accounts of the consequences of the closure of schools for girls, ranging from forced marriages and underage marriages to the onset of psychological illnesses. Speaking to the Hasht-e Subh Daily, Wahida mentions that due to the closure of schools for girls, she is experiencing poor mental and emotional well-being. According to her, their homes have turned into “prisons.”
Wahida and her two friends attended school for a brief period out of sheer desperation and sat with younger students in grades five and six, rehashing their past lessons. She adds, “My home has transformed into a narrow and dark prison for me. Seeing school books and uniforms at home torments me every day.”
She recalls fond memories of school and her fellow classmates with a sense of longing, saying, “If the school gates hadn’t been closed to us, I would have been in the eleventh grade this year.”
Belqis, a friend and classmate of Wahida, said: “Our school time used to be after lunch. Now, during the same time, that I should be at school, I go to the garden with my mother. Every time I pass by our school and see its closed gate, my heart sinks, and great sorrow overwhelms me. It’s as if my soul is being pulled out of me.”
She added, “We reminisced about the sweet memories of going to school, our teachers, and our classmates. We went to school for a few days and studied in lower grades. However, once the school principal became aware of this, fearing the strict Taliban rules, he expelled us from school and instructed the school staff not to allow us and other students above the sixth grade inside the school.”
This student emphasized that the closure of schools has turned all of her “hopes” into despair.
Maryam, another classmate of Belqis and Wahida, with tear-filled eyes and a choked voice, states that after the closure of the school, most female students have either migrated or been pushed into underage and forced marriages.
Maryam declared, “Some of our cousins and fellow classmates from the village have moved away, and a few of them have been married off at a young age, perhaps extinguishing the light of their desires forever.”
This is not only the sorrowful story of Wahida, Belqis, and Maryam; they are small examples of the suffering of thousands of girls in the country whose dreams and aspirations have turned into despair with the Taliban’s control over the country.
The resurgence of the Taliban into power is a terrifying nightmare for Afghan girls and women, who saw their two-decade-long dreams of freedom and equality crumble overnight; to the extent that their basic and modest rights, notably education, have transformed into unattainable fantasies.
Now that violence, restrictions, fear, anxiety, and an uncertain future have replaced the ambitions, efforts, and motivations of Belqis and her generation, it remains uncertain how the prevailing situation in Afghan society will shape the future of women and girls in this country.
