“The word ‘freedom’ holds no meaning for me as long as the girls of my land are under the control of the Taliban”

Shabnam

Author, poet and women’s rights activist, Ghazni

With a thin sheet obscuring them through a window, a veiled woman sits with her two young daughters -- one a toddler on her lap

“After an unsuccessful marriage and while struggling to raise my two children alone, I began my fight. Despite all my hardships, I participated in civil and humanitarian activities to defend women’s rights. I used my pen to draw lines to secure the place of my fellow women, hoping that no other girl would walk in the shadow of misfortune. However, on 15 August 2021, with the fall of Kabul, my dreams were shattered for the second time.

Still, I didn’t accept defeat. This time, I, alongside other courageous women, raised our voices to protest the injustices of the Taliban. We went to the streets to protest, despite all the challenges and lack of support, both domestically and internationally. The Taliban hadn’t expected such courage from women. It wasn’t until they realized that we posed a significant threat to their regime, that they attempted to suppress us.

In the demonstrations held near the university, we faced violence and exposed the ugly face of the Taliban. I suffered superficial injuries, and after these intense protests, I was heavily pursued by the Taliban.

Finally, I received information from a neighbour that the Taliban were searching for my exact location, with my picture. So, I left my house without taking my children and went into hiding.

The Taliban intelligence group raided my house in the middle of the night, and on that night, my [husband was beaten in front of my] two young children and my other family members faced the worst possible treatment by the Taliban, leaving eternal trauma etched on their souls and minds. After that night, I had no way to return home, and I was in hiding in my own land, seeking my rights.

My two children, who couldn’t bear the separation from their mother, were brought to me by my family, who risked their lives to reunite a mother and her children. With all my efforts to survive and continue the struggle, we were eventually arrested by the Taliban one cold and dark night, along with some of my fellow fighters and innocent children, and we were transferred to the Ministry of Interior.

After a period of detention, the time came when all the women in the cell were released, but my daughter and I were still there. I leaned against the wall and whispered a lullaby for my little daughter. She had tears in her eyes upon hearing this lullaby.

My daughter asked me: ‘Mother! Why didn’t they let us go too? Are they going to take you and me away? Don’t cry, mother; I won’t go anywhere, and I won’t let the Taliban harm you.’

Finally, after some time, my daughter and I were the last prisoners to be released [from detention]. I won’t say we are ‘free’ because the word ‘freedom’ holds no meaning for me as long as the girls of my land are under the control of the Taliban and their ideologies. Despite all these difficulties, I won’t stop.”

“I firmly believe that, in the end, words will be more powerful than weapons”