I’m an Afghan woman who went to school. I wish it was a right instead of luck

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This First Person article was written by Freshta Hemmati, an Afghan women’s rights activist and journalist living in PEI For more information on First Person stories, see FAQ.

My family first fled Afghanistan when the Taliban took over Kabul in 1996. I was only a few months old at the time and spent the first eight years of my life in Iran.

As refugees in Qom, my siblings and I could not go to school.

My father was our teacher. He has worked as principal and dean of Balkh University in the faculty of medicine in Afghanistan. Education is very important to them, and they don’t want us to fall behind. So he created his own lesson plan to help us move forward.

He not only taught me the basics of reading and writing, but also life lessons – like focusing on my goals and how to ignore distractions – that I will never forget.

In 2001, the Taliban government fell and our family returned to our home country in early 2005 when we finally felt safe.

Returning to Afghanistan also meant that my younger siblings and I could go to school. I did well in the school assessment placement test and was allowed to skip the class. I’m so happy to go to school every day, because my dad always makes it a fun place.

A woman with dark hair stands outside in a field of leaves with a camera for her eyes.
Hemmati worked as a journalist in Kabul in 2019. (Posted by Freshta Hemmati)

I was consistently at the top of my class all through the school year. I also do volunteer work at my school and am socially active. Excelling in class became a priority for me, and I decided to pursue a career as a journalist – even though women in the media were looked down upon in Afghanistan.

Afghanistan is a country where men hold the majority of economic and political power, and many women are unable to control their own lives.

But my father has taught me not to compromise my dreams for fear of what others think of me. He is an educated man who believes in equality between men and women. He did not agree with the Taliban regime, and always encouraged me and my brothers to continue our education.

Afghan women were first eligible to vote in 1919 – a full year before women in the United States were granted equal rights. But after the Soviet occupation in the 1970s and the civil conflict of the next two decades, women’s rights in Afghanistan improved.

After the fall of the Taliban in 2001, the situation gradually improved.

I studied journalism at Kabul University and then started working as a journalist when I was still in second grade.

I felt like a beautiful blossom on the verge of all the possibilities of life which opened up. Despite the security concerns, especially for Afghan women who go to school and pursue higher education, I am hopeful that we can finally take control of our future.

Then, suddenly, everything fell apart.

When everything fell apart again

A woman stands in an alley covered in a black robe, headscarf and sunglasses.
Hemmati will have to change his clothes when the Taliban take over in August 2021. (Posted by Freshta Hemmati)

After the fall of Afghanistan for the second time in August 2021, the two months I lived under the second Taliban regime were the most difficult time of my life. Growing up, I had heard stories about the first Taliban regime, but this was far worse. I can’t work or go to school just because I’m a woman. I was not allowed to meet my friends. I literally saw half of Afghan society disappear before my eyes.

Education is a right

I was lucky enough to leave the country and move to Kazakhstan to continue my graduate studies. I am writing a dissertation on the reality of female journalists in Afghanistan under the Taliban regime.

I am grateful to escape from a country where girls are not allowed to continue their education, but I am worried for my loved ones ahead and I mourn the loss of the country where I was raised in the hope of building a future for me.

A woman wearing sunglasses poses in front of a giant red 2022 sign on the Charlottetown waterfront.
Hemmati in her new home in Charlottetown. (Posted by Freshta Hemmati)

In August 2022, I am moving to Canada. In Charlottetown, I feel like I can breathe in peace. I volunteer with a group that helps other newcomers and now work for the provincial government.

But when I read the news about the secret school for girls in Kabul, I felt like dying. The Taliban do not allow young girls to continue their education beyond Grade 6. Some fight against tyranny by teaching girls under the radar, but many of the girls I know who are still alive under the Taliban have nothing.

Afghan women are deprived of their basic human rights such as working, traveling, watching movies, visiting public parks or wearing the clothes they choose. They had no right to an education, but I was one of the few who was given that opportunity – a sandwich generation of women who grew up between two Taliban regimes. I was lucky to have parents who believed in the pursuit of knowledge and education. And I believe all Afghan women should have the same opportunities.


Interested in writing a First Person or Opinion piece for CBC PEI?

We are looking for submissions from Islanders, or those who have a strong connection to the Island, who have a compelling personal narrative or want to share their take on issues affecting society. You don’t have to be a professional writer — first-time contributors are always welcome.

Email us the story pitchpei@cbc.ca. For more information on First Person and Opinion posts see our FAQ.



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