“With empty hands and a wounded spirit, I continue to fight for survival”

“I had been working as a beauty makeup artist for four years to earn a living. The day the Taliban announced the closure of beauty salons, I felt so lost that I didn’t know what to do. I sat on a stool holding the closure notice in my hand and reading it over and over, crying every time. As the sole breadwinner of my family, I felt a heavy burden and noticed the worried looks of all my family members. 

I am currently operating a hidden salon in a somewhat dilapidated house, trying to stay discreet and avoid the watchful eyes of the Taliban. I am filled with great anxiety. A few days ago, some women came to have their eyebrows done, they seemed suspicious, and I was afraid they might inform the Taliban, so I told them: ‘this isn’t a beauty salon but I am a woman’s tailor, and anyone who gave you this information, gave you the wrong address’. 

Out of compulsion or fatigue, I must continue to find a way to survive. We’ve endured so much suffering and fear for the sake of our livelihood. As the eyes and ears of my family, I have an urgency to provide the basic necessities of life and continue my work as a makeup artist, facing my fears.  

You don’t know what it’s like to fear the Taliban. Even ordinary people treat us [women] like the Taliban do. We don’t even have credibility among the general public.