I am Suhaila Kaamili, a woman shaped by endless suffering. Ever since I became old enough to tell right from wrong, something deep within me refused to be still. The society I grew up in did not recognize women — myself included — as human beings. Decaying beliefs, blatant and subtle discrimination, and a gaze that saw women not as people but as shadows on the margins, constantly tormented my heart.
From those early years, a dream took root in me. I wanted to enter the Faculty of Law. I longed to reclaim — through knowledge and resilience — what had been denied to women. And in the end, with relentless determination, I made that dream come true. I earned a law degree and began my path advocating for women, raising awareness, and fighting against injustice.
In 2019, I started researching the legal challenges women in Afghanistan face. Each case, each story, each voice that spoke of women’s pain only strengthened my resolve. Alongside my research, I worked as a women’s rights defender, because silence was never an option for me — not then, and not now.
But then came the day darkness consumed us. The Taliban returned to power, and with them came the shadow. Women were stripped of education, employment, and their right to exist in society.
I could not stand by as a mere spectator. That’s why, on September 7, 2021, I took to the streets with my sisters to protest the Taliban. We raised our voices and demanded justice. Our banners, our chants, our tears, and the threats we faced — all became part of the story of women who refused to be broken by tyranny.
Alongside the protests, I joined the Afghanistan Women’s Justice Movement. Sometimes I served as a cultural coordinator, other times I helped coordinate with the leadership committee — but I was always there, standing beside women who fought for freedom with empty hands and hearts full of hope.
When schools were shut to girls, I became a teacher for those whose only crime was seeking knowledge. We held secret classes, hidden from the Taliban, gripped by fear but fueled by a light no wall could extinguish.
Yet the cost of this path was steep. Constant threats, surveillance, fear — and finally, I had to make a heartbreaking decision. I was forced to flee my homeland for the sake of my life and my child’s. Even now, when I think back to those days, something inside my chest burns.
It’s been nearly a year since I entered exile. Despite all the struggles — poverty, displacement, and the loss of identity — I still carry the voices of Afghan women with me. I still write, I speak, I scream — so the world will know that the women of Afghanistan have not fallen silent.
Even if the world has abandoned us, we have not abandoned ourselves. My comrades and I will remain standing until the day a woman in Afghanistan can live freely, pursue an education, and dream without fear.
I am certain that day will come — the day our girls laugh in the streets with books in their hands, not hide their tears in silence. And until that day arrives, I will be their voice.
You can read the Persian version of this Afghan woman’s story here:
