Kabul: One by one, quickly, carefully, keeping their heads down, a group of Afghan women step into a small apartment block in Kabul – risking their lives as a nascent resistance Taliban,
They come together to plan their next stance against the radical Islamic regime, which took back power in Afghanistan in August and took away their dreams.
At first, there were no more than 15 workers in this group, mostly women in their 20s who already knew each other.
There is now a network of dozens of women – once students, teachers or NGO workers, as well as housewives – who have worked in secret to organize the protests over the past six months.
A 20-year-old protester, speaking on condition of anonymity, told AFP: “I asked myself why instead of staying at home, feeling sad, not connecting with them, instead of thinking about what we have lost.”
They know that such a challenge to the new executives may cost them everything.
Four of his aides were recently confiscated for weeks, until the United Nations confirmed their release on Sunday.
When the Taliban first ruled Afghanistan between 1996 and 2001, they became notorious for human rights abuses, with women mostly confined to their homes.
Now back in government and despite promising a soft regime, they are cracking down on women’s freedom once again.
There is enforced segregation in most workplaces, which has led many employers to fire female employees and bar women from key public sector jobs.
Many girls’ secondary schools have closed, and university curricula are being revised to reflect their fanatical interpretation of Islam.
Haunted by memories of the previous Taliban regime, some Afghan women are too afraid to step out or are pressured by their families to stay at home.
For Shala, a mother of four, who told AFP to use only her first name, her biggest fear is a return to such female confinement.
A former government employee, her job has already been taken from her, so she now helps organize resistance and sometimes at night graffiti slogans such as “Long Live Equality” on the walls of the nation’s capital Quietly leaves.
“I just want to be an example to young women, to show them that I won’t give up fighting,” she explains.
The Taliban may harm her family, but Shala says her husband supports what she is doing and her children are learning from her disobedience – at home they rehearse mantras demanding education.
AFP journalists attended two meetings of the group in January.
More than 40 women attended an event, despite the risk of being arrested and picked up by the Taliban, or abandoned by their families and society.
At another gathering, some women were preparing for their next protest.
A worker designed a banner demanding justice, a cellphone in one hand and his pen in the other.
“These are our only weapons,” she says.
A 24-year-old, who asked anonymity, helped brainstorm ideas to get the world’s attention.
“It is dangerous but we have no other way. We have to accept that our path is full of challenges,” she insists.
Like the others, she stood by her conservative family, including an uncle who threw her books to prevent her from learning.
“I don’t want to let fear overwhelm me and stop me from telling the truth and telling the truth,” she insists.
Allowing people to join their ranks is a meticulous process.
Hoda Khamosh, a published poet and former NGO activist who organized workshops to help empower women, is tasked with making sure newcomers can be trusted.
A test she determines is to ask them to design banners or slogans in a short amount of time – she may feel obsession with women who deliver quickly.
Other tests give even clearer results.
Hoda remembers the time he gave a potential worker a fake date and time for a performance.
The Taliban succumbed to the alleged protest, and all contact with the woman suspected of passing secret information to the authorities was cut off.
A core group of activists use a dedicated phone number to coordinate the day of the protest. That number is later disconnected to ensure that it is not being tracked.
“We usually carry an extra scarf or an extra outfit. When the performance is over, we change our clothes so that we can’t be identified,” explains Hoda.
She has changed her phone number several times and her husband is getting threats.
“We can still suffer, it’s exhausting. But all we can do is persevere,” she adds.
The activist was one of the few women who traveled to Norway last month to meet face-to-face with the Taliban’s leadership, along with other civil society members, when the first talks on European soil were held between the West and Afghanistan’s new government.
In the 20 years since the Taliban last came to power, a generation of women – in large cities – became business owners, pursued PhDs, and held government positions.
The fight to protect those gains requires defiance.
On days of protest, women wait outside shops for two or three in a row as if they were normal shoppers, then run together at the last minute: some 20 people hoisting their banners raising slogans.
Rapidly and inevitably, armed Taliban fighters surround them – sometimes holding them back, sometimes shouting and pointing guns at the women to intimidate them.
One activist recalls a fighter being slapped in the face, while another led the protest despite a masked gunman pointing his weapon.
But protesting is becoming dangerous as authorities crack down on dissent.
A few days after the planning meeting attended by AFP, Taliban fighters For the first time, the Resistance used pepper spray on protesters, angry because the group had donned a white burqa red for refusing to wear a full-coverage dress.
Two of the women who took part in the protest – Tamana Zarabeek friend and Parwana Ibrahimkhel – were subsequently rounded up in a series of night raids on 19 January.
Shortly before she was taken, pictures of Paryani were shared on social media, showing her in distress, with Taliban fighters at her doorstep warning.
In the video, Tamana calls out: “Please help! The Taliban have come to our house in Parwan 2. My sisters are at home.”
It shows her saying to the men behind the door: “If you want to talk, we’ll talk tomorrow. I can’t meet you at night with these girls. I don’t want (open the door) … please! help Help!”
Several women interviewed by AFP before the raid, who spoke of the “non-stop threats”, later went into hiding.
The United Nations also sought information about two more women activists who were reportedly detained two weeks ago, named by rights advocates as Zahra Mohammadi and. mersal aria,
Taliban government spokesman zabihullah mujahidi Denied any women were apprehended, but said authorities were empowered to “arrest and detain dissenters or law-breakers” after the government banned disapproved protests soon after coming to power. Was.
On Sunday the United Nations said all four women had been released after being held by “real authorities” in Afghanistan.
Women are rapidly learning to adapt.
When they launched the movement last September, the demonstrations would end as soon as one of the participants was pushed or threatened by the Taliban.
Hoda says he has now developed a system where two workers look after the victim, the others – and allow the protest to continue.
As the Taliban block media coverage of the protests, many female activists use their phones to take photos and videos to post on social media.
Content, often featuring them showing their faces, can then reach an international audience.
Human Rights Watch’s Heather Barr says, “These women … had to create something from the beginning.”
She adds, “There are many very experienced women activists who have been working in Afghanistan for many years… but almost all of them left after August 15.”
“The (Talibans) do not tolerate dissent. They have beaten up other protesters, they brutally beat up journalists covering the protests. They have gone and are looking for the protesters and protest organizers afterwards.”
Barr believes it is “almost certain” that those involved in this new resistance will experience losses.
A separate, smaller women’s group is now trying to focus the protest in a way that avoids direct confrontation with the Taliban.
“My heart and body tremble when I am on the streets,” said Waheeda Amiri.
The 33-year-old worked as a librarian. Sharp and forthright, she is accustomed to fighting for justice, has campaigned against corruption in the previous government.
No longer possible, she occasionally meets a small group of friends in the safety of their homes, where they film themselves lighting candles and raising banners demanding the right to education and work.
They write articles and participate in debates on the audio app Clubhouse or on Twitter, hoping social media will show the world their story.
“I’ve never worked as hard as I have in the last five months,” she says.
Hoda’s biggest dream was to become the president of Afghanistan, and it is difficult for him to accept that his political work is now limited.
“If we don’t fight for our future today, Afghan history will repeat itself,” the 26-year-old told AFP from her home.
“If we don’t get our rights, we will be stuck between four walls in the house. This is something we cannot tolerate,” he said.
Kabul’s resistance is not alone. There have been small, scattered protests by women in other Afghan cities, including Bamiyan, Herat and Mazar-i-Sharif.
“The (Taliban) have removed us from society and politics,” says Amiri.
“We can’t succeed. We just want to keep the voice of justice high, and instead of five women, we want thousands to join us.”
They come together to plan their next stance against the radical Islamic regime, which took back power in Afghanistan in August and took away their dreams.
At first, there were no more than 15 workers in this group, mostly women in their 20s who already knew each other.
There is now a network of dozens of women – once students, teachers or NGO workers, as well as housewives – who have worked in secret to organize the protests over the past six months.
A 20-year-old protester, speaking on condition of anonymity, told AFP: “I asked myself why instead of staying at home, feeling sad, not connecting with them, instead of thinking about what we have lost.”
They know that such a challenge to the new executives may cost them everything.
Four of his aides were recently confiscated for weeks, until the United Nations confirmed their release on Sunday.
When the Taliban first ruled Afghanistan between 1996 and 2001, they became notorious for human rights abuses, with women mostly confined to their homes.
Now back in government and despite promising a soft regime, they are cracking down on women’s freedom once again.
There is enforced segregation in most workplaces, which has led many employers to fire female employees and bar women from key public sector jobs.
Many girls’ secondary schools have closed, and university curricula are being revised to reflect their fanatical interpretation of Islam.
Haunted by memories of the previous Taliban regime, some Afghan women are too afraid to step out or are pressured by their families to stay at home.
For Shala, a mother of four, who told AFP to use only her first name, her biggest fear is a return to such female confinement.
A former government employee, her job has already been taken from her, so she now helps organize resistance and sometimes at night graffiti slogans such as “Long Live Equality” on the walls of the nation’s capital Quietly leaves.
“I just want to be an example to young women, to show them that I won’t give up fighting,” she explains.
The Taliban may harm her family, but Shala says her husband supports what she is doing and her children are learning from her disobedience – at home they rehearse mantras demanding education.
AFP journalists attended two meetings of the group in January.
More than 40 women attended an event, despite the risk of being arrested and picked up by the Taliban, or abandoned by their families and society.
At another gathering, some women were preparing for their next protest.
A worker designed a banner demanding justice, a cellphone in one hand and his pen in the other.
“These are our only weapons,” she says.
A 24-year-old, who asked anonymity, helped brainstorm ideas to get the world’s attention.
“It is dangerous but we have no other way. We have to accept that our path is full of challenges,” she insists.
Like the others, she stood by her conservative family, including an uncle who threw her books to prevent her from learning.
“I don’t want to let fear overwhelm me and stop me from telling the truth and telling the truth,” she insists.
Allowing people to join their ranks is a meticulous process.
Hoda Khamosh, a published poet and former NGO activist who organized workshops to help empower women, is tasked with making sure newcomers can be trusted.
A test she determines is to ask them to design banners or slogans in a short amount of time – she may feel obsession with women who deliver quickly.
Other tests give even clearer results.
Hoda remembers the time he gave a potential worker a fake date and time for a performance.
The Taliban succumbed to the alleged protest, and all contact with the woman suspected of passing secret information to the authorities was cut off.
A core group of activists use a dedicated phone number to coordinate the day of the protest. That number is later disconnected to ensure that it is not being tracked.
“We usually carry an extra scarf or an extra outfit. When the performance is over, we change our clothes so that we can’t be identified,” explains Hoda.
She has changed her phone number several times and her husband is getting threats.
“We can still suffer, it’s exhausting. But all we can do is persevere,” she adds.
The activist was one of the few women who traveled to Norway last month to meet face-to-face with the Taliban’s leadership, along with other civil society members, when the first talks on European soil were held between the West and Afghanistan’s new government.
In the 20 years since the Taliban last came to power, a generation of women – in large cities – became business owners, pursued PhDs, and held government positions.
The fight to protect those gains requires defiance.
On days of protest, women wait outside shops for two or three in a row as if they were normal shoppers, then run together at the last minute: some 20 people hoisting their banners raising slogans.
Rapidly and inevitably, armed Taliban fighters surround them – sometimes holding them back, sometimes shouting and pointing guns at the women to intimidate them.
One activist recalls a fighter being slapped in the face, while another led the protest despite a masked gunman pointing his weapon.
But protesting is becoming dangerous as authorities crack down on dissent.
A few days after the planning meeting attended by AFP, Taliban fighters For the first time, the Resistance used pepper spray on protesters, angry because the group had donned a white burqa red for refusing to wear a full-coverage dress.
Two of the women who took part in the protest – Tamana Zarabeek friend and Parwana Ibrahimkhel – were subsequently rounded up in a series of night raids on 19 January.
Shortly before she was taken, pictures of Paryani were shared on social media, showing her in distress, with Taliban fighters at her doorstep warning.
In the video, Tamana calls out: “Please help! The Taliban have come to our house in Parwan 2. My sisters are at home.”
It shows her saying to the men behind the door: “If you want to talk, we’ll talk tomorrow. I can’t meet you at night with these girls. I don’t want (open the door) … please! help Help!”
Several women interviewed by AFP before the raid, who spoke of the “non-stop threats”, later went into hiding.
The United Nations also sought information about two more women activists who were reportedly detained two weeks ago, named by rights advocates as Zahra Mohammadi and. mersal aria,
Taliban government spokesman zabihullah mujahidi Denied any women were apprehended, but said authorities were empowered to “arrest and detain dissenters or law-breakers” after the government banned disapproved protests soon after coming to power. Was.
On Sunday the United Nations said all four women had been released after being held by “real authorities” in Afghanistan.
Women are rapidly learning to adapt.
When they launched the movement last September, the demonstrations would end as soon as one of the participants was pushed or threatened by the Taliban.
Hoda says he has now developed a system where two workers look after the victim, the others – and allow the protest to continue.
As the Taliban block media coverage of the protests, many female activists use their phones to take photos and videos to post on social media.
Content, often featuring them showing their faces, can then reach an international audience.
Human Rights Watch’s Heather Barr says, “These women … had to create something from the beginning.”
She adds, “There are many very experienced women activists who have been working in Afghanistan for many years… but almost all of them left after August 15.”
“The (Talibans) do not tolerate dissent. They have beaten up other protesters, they brutally beat up journalists covering the protests. They have gone and are looking for the protesters and protest organizers afterwards.”
Barr believes it is “almost certain” that those involved in this new resistance will experience losses.
A separate, smaller women’s group is now trying to focus the protest in a way that avoids direct confrontation with the Taliban.
“My heart and body tremble when I am on the streets,” said Waheeda Amiri.
The 33-year-old worked as a librarian. Sharp and forthright, she is accustomed to fighting for justice, has campaigned against corruption in the previous government.
No longer possible, she occasionally meets a small group of friends in the safety of their homes, where they film themselves lighting candles and raising banners demanding the right to education and work.
They write articles and participate in debates on the audio app Clubhouse or on Twitter, hoping social media will show the world their story.
“I’ve never worked as hard as I have in the last five months,” she says.
Hoda’s biggest dream was to become the president of Afghanistan, and it is difficult for him to accept that his political work is now limited.
“If we don’t fight for our future today, Afghan history will repeat itself,” the 26-year-old told AFP from her home.
“If we don’t get our rights, we will be stuck between four walls in the house. This is something we cannot tolerate,” he said.
Kabul’s resistance is not alone. There have been small, scattered protests by women in other Afghan cities, including Bamiyan, Herat and Mazar-i-Sharif.
“The (Taliban) have removed us from society and politics,” says Amiri.
“We can’t succeed. We just want to keep the voice of justice high, and instead of five women, we want thousands to join us.”
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