Since the return of the Taliban in 2021, Afghan women correspondents have chronicled the realities faced by women who, after some 20 years of increased freedom and opportunity, have been relegated to veritable house arrest under the oppressive regime. Through a series of interviews with women from across Afghan society, JURIST aims to give these women a voice.*
Our interviewee, who must remain anonymous due to obvious security concerns, devoted her career to advocating for the rights of women and girls through her work in Afghanistan’s family courts. In this conversation, she describes the obstacles she overcame to pursue a legal education after losing both parents as a teenager. She traces her journey from internships with human rights organizations to her role as director of a family court, where she fought daily for women’s rights and witnessed the severe abuse many women endured. She then describes the devastating impact of the Taliban’s return—from the immediate loss of employment and income to the ongoing restrictions that have left her unable to even step outside for fresh air, compounded by personal tragedies including the loss of two babies and serious health problems.
This is the latest in an ongoing series of JURIST interviews exploring the many facets of the lives of Afghanistan’s women and girls under a resurgent Taliban.
JURIST: Tell us about your life before August 2021.
Before August 2021, I was a government employee working full-time in various court departments. I was born into a religiously devout family that also valued science and culture. This meant that education had to proceed within religious restrictions.
I lost my father and then my mother during my teenage years. When my schooling period ended, my time as a university student began. I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in law and political science from the Judicial Department of the Attorney General’s Office.
Because I was deprived of my parents’ guidance and support, the conditions were more difficult for me than for others, and the restrictions were greater—especially given the religious constraints that prevailed in Afghanistan and in different families, but I refused to give up.
During my studies, I completed internships with a number of non-profit organizations specializing in human rights. When I graduated, I began working for the courts. My husband was also a government employee working for the courts.
Most of my time in that position was spent as director of the family court, where I fought for women’s rights. Equality and justice were my daily goals. I saw many women who were oppressed and beaten by their husbands—women whose husbands kept them hungry for weeks, giving them nothing more than the bare minimum food needed to survive. Women who had no support or shelter.
JURIST: How did you learn about the events of August 2021, and what were your initial thoughts or reactions?
Before the events of August 2021, based on news and social media, I was always confused, worried, and afraid that if the regime changed, my husband and I would both become unemployed. At the same time, during our work, we were constantly affected by security warnings. Threatening letters were posted on our door several times. We were on the run for a while and couldn’t even come home during the day. Most of the time, our car became our home.
A few days before the events, we were staying at the home of one of our relatives. I never imagined that with the regime change, both my husband and I would lose our jobs. I had thought that an agreement had been made in the Doha Agreement for an all-inclusive government. In the beginning, I thought that maybe only I would become unemployed.
During those days, I was constantly thinking about the difficulties I had overcome—how I had studied at school and university and earned a job. How could I accept not being able to do my work?
We were at our relatives’ house that evening when the cruel Taliban took over our country. Then their government TV channel made an announcement and announced the new head and staff of the courts. Right there, in the house of our relatives, some of my family members were simply watching my anxiety and discomfort. I cannot fully describe how I felt at that moment. They were happy about my collapse—the downfall of an educated, responsible, and successful woman—but they weren’t showing it openly.
From the perspective of our faith, perhaps my suspicion was a sin. But there is a proverb that says, “The eye that does not recognize its opponent is blind.” It was very difficult. I felt my heart weeping inside me, and only I could see its tears. I began sobbing and asking my husband, “What should we do? What has happened?”
The next day, I left our relatives’ house alone and went to the road that my husband and I used to take to work every day. I saw those oppressive Taliban standing everywhere. I cried alone and went home. When I got inside the house, I screamed and cried heavily. I swear to God, it was unbearable.
I retrieved the old shoes belonging to my husband and child that I had thrown away. I cleaned them so they could be worn again. We were no longer employed and had no income—we had to save every penny.
JURIST: Which of the Taliban’s new policies toward women has had the most significant impact on your life, or on your family or community?
All the Taliban policies are new and unacceptable—not only for women, but for the entire Afghan nation. I must say that when I watch the news or Afghanistan International, when they report that the Taliban have removed women from society or that there is no work for women, I become very emotional. Why are only women being targeted? Where is the international community? Where is the United Nations?
And what about work for the men of this nation—I mean the educated and knowledgeable men? In those moments, I want to shout: “Why does everyone have no eyes to see and no ears to hear?” It really hurts me personally. When I talk to my colleagues and others around me, I find they are in even worse situations than I am.
Imagine a woman who has been studying and then working all her life, who has been outside every day of her life, now denied even what nature grants to every blade of grass—the right to fresh air.
Personally, I became pregnant twice after the events of August 2021. The first time, the baby died in my womb at six months. The second time, my baby was born, but she died at three months old. I couldn’t even go stand on a sidewalk outside to lift my spirits a little, let alone visit a park. Apart from staying inside the house, there was nowhere I could go.
It’s very difficult. I admit that it’s unbearable, but this is a nation without a guardian that continues to endure.
JURIST: Can you share a story that illustrates how life has changed for women in Afghanistan?
The Taliban’s laws have changed the lives of all women. I don’t know where to start—every woman, every colleague, every environment I am part of has been affected.
As an educated and experienced woman, I am surrounded by a large group of women in my family community who cannot read or write. When I see the way those around me treat me and other educated women after these events, it is as if they are mocking our education. We studied despite all the difficulties, but in the end, we ended up staying at home just like other women. So what was the point of education? What was its importance? I see the contemptuous treatment from those around me.
Let me give you an example of the harsh words from relatives and friends. One day, at the beginning of the Taliban’s arrival, someone said to me: “It was great that the Taliban came. You were so proud before. Well, now keep your pride to yourself.”
Doesn’t this affect the soul and spirit of a person—of a woman? This impacts a woman’s social life. Many women like me are now viewed with contempt.
JURIST: Can you describe a moment when you felt the impact of the new rules most strongly?
Although I mentioned it before, I still feel the need to emphasize that in addition to the economic, social, and intellectual impacts we are feeling from the new laws, my mental state is very poor. I feel constantly in danger.
For example, as I mentioned above, I recently lost my three-month-old daughter. When I needed to leave the house to change my mood—to lift my spirits even a little—I discovered there was nowhere for me to go when I went out. I couldn’t even stand on the side of the street for a few moments. It was crushing.
One day, my husband and I went to an entertainment venue. My husband and son approached the gate manager and explained my situation. My husband told him: “My wife is very sad, sick, and depressed. Please let us enter quietly. For God’s sake, allow us in. She is not feeling well.”
My husband begged and pleaded, but they refused to let us in. What was interesting was that when they took a long time to return, I felt a little hopeful, thinking they had been accepted. But my son came back quickly and said sadly, “Father insisted and begged, but the park manager would not allow us.”
Imagine: a couple cast out from their jobs, facing relentless economic hardship, losing a child, being constantly humiliated by those around them—and having no space or place to relax, to get some fresh air, or simply to breathe. It is beyond suffering.
JURIST: What would you like the world to understand about your current situation? Or What do you think is the most misunderstood aspect of your current situation?
First of all, I wish I could speak English and shout for the whole world to hear. I am tired of the world—of its people, of its ignorance, of its indifference, of its disloyalty, of its lack of sympathy. I am tired of the international community’s indifference toward the world’s most suffering women in Afghanistan.
As I mentioned, I faced hardships to get my education, and most of the women around me had similar struggles. The world doesn’t understand that a woman who was educated in such a difficult cultural environment—a woman whose livelihood depended on that education—now finds everything turned upside down. Every moment, she is choked by resentment. She suffers, and her voice cannot be heard. Even in the presence of her own family, she cannot breathe freely.
But the most important thing is that many women desperately need to go to places of entertainment, which they are not allowed to do. When they are prohibited from studying and working, and economic problems prevent them from even going shopping, I wish they could at least go to a park or an entertainment venue to improve their mental and emotional state somewhat.
Working women like myself do not have the financial means to visit a doctor for our mental and emotional well-being. Everyone knows that physical pain often stems from internal worries and mental disorders. I feel completely misunderstood because I carry invisible wounds—physical illnesses that no one can see. For example, my right hand is paralyzed, and all my teeth are broken. My husband is unemployed. And so much more.
This is what makes it so difficult for me—I feel that no one understands. And as if the suffering wasn’t already too much, I lost my baby daughter because of this situation.
JURIST: What gives you hope or strength in these challenging times?
My hope is that the Taliban regime will change—that women and girls will achieve their human rights and freedoms. Or at least that my husband will be able to return to work. I also think that travel could give me some hope or strength, especially a religious pilgrimage.
Additionally, the arrest warrant for Taliban leaders is a source of hope not only for me, but for all the people of Afghanistan. However, if the decision of the International Criminal Court remains just words on paper with no guarantee of enforcement—if the member states of the Court do not take serious action to arrest the leaders of this Taliban terrorist group—then it will not only fail to be a source of hope for anyone, but will actually embolden this horrible group. They will see the Court’s decision as proof of the world’s failure and powerlessness against them.
The most hopeful scenario—not only for the people of Afghanistan but also for neighbouring countries and even the nations of Central Asia and the Gulf region—would be if the countries of the world or NATO forces once again take action to end the Taliban terrorist regime. This would accomplish two things: it would disrupt some terrorist networks operating in Afghanistan, and the countries that champion justice and equality of human rights could serve as a global model and prove themselves
*Due to security concerns, the identities of the correspondent and the interviewee cannot be publicly revealed.