In brief
Five years since the Taliban seized power, Afghan women say their lives have changed beyond recognition, with schools closed, travel limited, and new laws threatening child marriage. Between Kabul and remote countryside, women report losing hope and fear reprisals that force them to hide their identities. Despite the harsh environment, some women like Noori are building businesses to give others a chance and remain hopeful for a future they can still imagine. The stories highlight ongoing challenges to education, health, and freedom under Taliban rule.
Five years after the Taliban returned to power in Afghanistan, women across the country admit their lives are now unrecognisable. The hard‑line Islamist group has systematically eroded rights for 22 million women, from banning secondary schooling for girls above 12 to requiring male escorts for travel.
In an interview with BBC Afghan, women reported hearing the Taliban claim that “women aren’t totally restricted” – a statement that barely masks the reality of daily hardship. Many have never put their real names on record for fear of retribution.
ELA, a dental assistant from Kabul, explains the pressure: “People are so overwhelmed by poverty and daily hardships that many of us have been forced to put our education, dreams, and hopes for the future aside… survival has become the priority.”
Shakiba, 18, a jewellery maker, recounts the trauma of 15 August when the Taliban took over: she was barred from high school, denied a university place, and later forced to learn about college only through online courses, feeling her lifelong dream of becoming a pilot erased.
The Taliban’s foreign minister, Amir Khan Muttaqi, defends the regime’s stance, stating that “three million girls are going to schools and madrassas” but later claims that religious schools can produce doctors, suggesting limited scope for women in professional roles.
Midwife Marzia, a resident of a rural district, shares a chilling anecdote: while travelling to a clinic, she watched a 45‑year‑old mother die in front of her. “We managed to save the baby but not the mother,” Marzia said, echoing the tragic loss that stems from restricted access to female health care.
“If we can’t speak, why live?” cried Zuhal, a former journalist, as she urged the international community to keep focusing on Afghan women’s rights and remain a source of solidarity rather than silence.
Amid the bleak picture, a glimmer persists: Noori, 24, who studied law and political science before the takeover, now runs a jam‑making company employing ten women, aiming to build opportunity and hope for other girls. “I have never lost hope. I decided to become financially independent… I want them to become strong and successful women like me,” she said.
There is a need for global support; the BBC Action Line lists organisations that can assist those who feel the weight of despair or facing unpredictable cruelty.
