Institute for English Literacy Blog

A Second Chance

Fri, 24 Oct 2025 20:55:35 GMT

The biography of a free woman

Born in 1998, Farida’s life took drastic turns during her childhood, more than the majority of people experience in their entire lives. She was born into a kind and loving family in Kabul, during a time when civil war was tearing throughout the country. When she was a young girl, a stray rocket struck her home, taking the life of her uncle and instantly creating a pile of rubble where her childhood home previously stood. With nowhere else to go, her family was forced to flee the fighting by moving to a small village. Unlike Kabul, life in this village revolved only around farming. Farida described, “there were no schools, no education, just survival”.

As she grew older, Farida listened to the radio to stay connected with the world outside of the village. After the fall of the Taliban regime, she began to hear accounts of girls returning to school in the city. When she heard this news, she said, “my heart ached with longing. I wanted nothing more than to go to school and learn”. Farida knew there was no future for her in the village, and so she pleaded with her father to let live with her older sister in the city so that she could attend school. Her father refused, believing that Farida was too young to live apart from her parents. At that moment, she thought "education was a dream slipping further away”.

But she held tightly onto her dream, and it slowly began to come true. Through relentless persuasion, her father conceded his stance and gave Farida permission to live with her sister. Although she was still very young, she made the difficult move to leave her parents. She described her choice as “chasing the light of education”, knowing that in the war-torn world of Afghanistan, education was the key to having a bright future.

Farida threw herself into her schooling, living with her sister and brother-in-law and facing countless challenges and hardships as she adapted to her new surroundings. But she held on, determined to finish school, find a job, and one day bring her family to the city so that they could live a peaceful life together. Her father was no longer able to farm in the village, so she worked with the hope of restoring their life to how it was before her family had lost their home.

That was her dream.

But unlike her dream to go to school, it remained just a dream. Farida was in eleventh grade when her father passed away from a heart attack. Upon hearing of her father’s death, her heart was shattered. “The world I had just begun to see filled with light through education suddenly turned dark again”, she recounted. She no longer felt that she had the strength to fight through the pain and challenges life kept throwing at her. Yet she did all she could to continue to help her family, who had been left alone in the village. She brought her mother and younger sister to live with her in the city. Every day she cried beside them.

Farida’s mother was heartbroken and overwhelmed by the grief of losing her husband, and fell seriously ill as a result of her pain. Farida had no money for her treatment. As she struggled to continue supporting both her mother and younger sister, she described: “I would look up to the sky with tearful eyes and whisper, ‘God, please help me… I can’t lose my mother too.’”

For a girl who didn’t believe in her own strength, Farida proved to be incredibly resilient through her situation. She continued school during the day, and started teaching literacy classes and doing tailoring work in the evenings. With what little money she earned, she tried to cover her mother’s medical expenses, doing everything she could to keep her alive and ease her pain. She continued in this way for about a year, until she finally graduated from high school and entered university. Soon after, she was offered a job as a math teacher at the very school she had graduated from. She had been the top student in her class, and the school believed in her potential.

Farida’s days were filled with studying and teaching. With money for proper treatment, her mother began to get better, and her life started to feel meaningful again. As she grew older, marriage proposals began to come, one after another. But each time, she turned them down. Most of the families were overly strict and conservative, and would not allow her to continue working or living with the freedom she had fought for her entire life. Any time she was asked why she refused to marry, she responded, by saying, “I couldn’t imagine giving up my education, my job, or my dreams for a life behind closed doors once again.”

Eventually, a proposal came from a family who promised that they wouldn’t stop Farida from working or living freely, and that they would make her happy. She believed them, thinking that her dark days were finally over, that happiness had finally found her.

Instead, accepting the proposal led her to a darker time than she had ever experienced.

The wedding was done in a traditional way, much differently than how Farida wanted. When her groom took her back to his home, the first thing his family did was take away her phone. They said, “In our family, women are not allowed to have phones.” Then they told her she wasn’t allowed to visit any relatives. As for her job, they laughed, “forget about it, in our family, women don’t work outside the home.” As each freedom was taken away, Farida saw her worst fears coming true. No matter how hard she’d fought to prevent it, she had become a prisoner. The wings that had brought her to incredible heights had been broken, leaving her to plummet to the ground. The girl who once dreamed of being in society, of teaching, of fulfilling her childhood dreams was now just a sad, broken woman; living like a hundred-year soul in silence and darkness. Everything she had hoped for was gone.

When she started to experience menstrual health problems, her husband’s family wouldn’t allow her to see a doctor. They told her to take homemade remedies, saying she didn’t need a doctor. But without treatment, her condition quickly got worse. The disease spread, her uterus was infected, and eventually she became infertile. Barren, and unable to have children. Every time Farida saw a woman pregnant or holding her baby, she described, “I would just sigh deeply. My heart would ache, and I’d whisper to herself, ‘I wish I could have that too.’”

On top of losing her physical health, Zuahl was also tortured by the cruel words of her mother-in-law and sister-in-law. They scoffed at her, saying, “you haven’t given us a child, what good are you? Just do the housework, that’s all you’re good for.” She wasn’t allowed to leave the house, and she wasn’t even allowed to choose what to eat. Many nights, she slept with an empty stomach, crying silently until morning. Secretly, however, she never gave up on learning. Whenever she had even five minutes free, she would grab a book and read, because her love for education was stronger than her pain.

One day, her niece found the phone number of Ms. Elke, the founder of the IEL Institute. She gave it to Farida and said, “Try speaking to this woman. Maybe she can help you continue your studies.” Farida used her husband’s phone and sent Ms. Elke a message. She told her that she wanted to study, that she needed a chance. Elke immediately added her to IEL’s class. Although she was enrolled in the class, Farida had no phone of her own to connect to the internet. When Elke heard about this, she sent money, and Farida bought a used second-hand phone. That small act of kindness on Elke’s part lit a spark in her life. It was the beginning of a new chapter, a moment that slowly brought color back to the darkness she had been living in.

Her class time was 4:30 in the morning. She would quietly sneak to a corner of the house under the excuse of praying to join the online class, listening in silence so no one would notice. As soon as she started she began to recall all the lessons she had learned in the past, engaging in the class with a sense of gratefulness like never before. Elke, knowing a bit about Farida’s situation, would often call to check on her. Elke’s manager Wadia Karamkhil also always made time to listen to Farida, to hear her story, and to encourage her. The women rejuvenated her with their words, reminding her of the strength that women can offer. One day, after Farida had been in the class for about a year, they made a life-changing decision: they offered her a position as part of the IEL team, working from home.

When she heard the news, Farida said “it was like a light of hope shining into my dark world.” She started working, and for the first time in a year, she felt free. No more fear, no more stress. She got to know the IEL team better, made amazing friends, and most importantly, had her own salary. She no longer depended on her husband or in-laws for anything.

With that income, Farida could finally visit a doctor. She had gone years being barren, but for the first time in a long time she had hope again. Hope that one day, she too could become a mother. Around the time when she was regaining her freedom, she was introduced to another American woman. Farida shared the woman’s contact with Ms. Elke, who spoke with her and shared Farida’s story, recounting the emotional and physical abuse she had suffered for years. The woman listened, understood, and decided to help by arranging for Farida to move to Brazil.

It has now been two months since she started living in Brazil, and Farida says she is truly happy. In her own words, she says, “I was rescued from that prison-like home, and now I feel like my wings have been restored. I am a free bird again. I go to church, I attend classes, and I’m searching for a job. Step by step, I’m getting closer to the dreams I’ve had since I was a child. With God’s grace and Ms. Elke’s help, I have been given a second chance at life.”

The Impact of Change

Wed, 03 Sep 2025 02:48:33 GMT

A biography of an afghan principal

I’ve often found myself thinking about how different my life would be if certain things had gone differently. It makes me wonder how much each moment has actually shaped who I am. During my meeting with Sahar, this same topic came up: the idea that our experiences and opportunities shape us into the people we become.

Sahar is a principal at the Institute for English Learning, but she never could have imagined that’s where she would be today. Growing up, Sahar was the youngest daughter in a family with six children. All of her older siblings were boys, and in a typical Afghan family that would have meant she would receive very little attention or support. In contrast, however, Sahar describes her family as being “supportive from the moment she was born.” A bright girl, she attended school and got good grades throughout elementary. In addition, her father hired a private tutor from a nearby university to teach her and her siblings other skills, such as languages. Sahar described these opportunities as ones that began to define her.

In Sahar’s ninth grade year, her life changed drastically. Afghanistan had internal conflicts, making the area around her home unsafe. Her family immigrated to Pakistan to escape the conflict, living there for about a year. She continued her education in Pakistan, and was also able to experiment with different skills taught in Pakistani schools. The opportunity to learn new things, as well as the chance to see another culture, widened her view of the world and motivated her to find more opportunities to broaden her horizons.

After returning home from Pakistan during tenth grade, life returned to normal for Sahar. For two years she lived happily with her family, continuing her secondary education and planning for university. However, in 1996, her life was again turned upside down. The Taliban took over Afghanistan for the first time, restricting female education and rights. For Sahar, this meant that she was unable to finish her twelfth year of school. She explained, however, that she got the chance to receive her diploma anyway. “The Taliban made an exception for students in the twelfth grade, allowing us to take our final exams early so that we could graduate. For me, this meant that I took eight exams in the span of two days.” Her early preparation for university paid off, and she passed her exams with high marks. But at the time, that meant very little, as women were no longer allowed to attend university. Rather than continue her education, Sahar and her family immigrated once again to Pakistan.

Living as refugees in Pakistan wasn’t easy for any of Sahar’s family. They had to work very hard in order to support themselves. But despite their difficulties, Sahar’s family continued to look out for her. In this case, it was her brothers who made all the difference. All of them were working, and they combined their extra earnings to purchase Sahar a computer. In my world, I’ve grown up around technology, so a computer wouldn’t make a large impact on my life. But for Sahar, it propelled her on an entirely new track. First, owning a computer required her to learn computer skills, an ability that few people had in Pakistan or Afghanistan. Second, her computer allowed her to learn the English language. These two changes opened up doors that Sahar didn’t even know existed, and for the next four years in Pakistan she focused on improving her skills and educating herself through whatever means possible. She said: “It was a slow process, but step by step I learned a lot.”

After the Taliban lost control of Afghanistan in 2001, Sahar’s family returned to their homeland. Upon arrival, the first decision Sahar made was to apply for university. She took the entrance exams, and was admitted as a student. She received her BA in social sciences, and got accepted as an intern for Afghan Civil Services, a program dedicated to the development of Afghan society. She interned for just six months before being given a position with the program. As an employee, Sahar provided educational opportunities throughout Afghanistan. The opportunities she had as a young girl were so impactful that she wanted to continue spreading education throughout her country. She worked in eight provinces, creating programs and finding donors to fund projects. If you had happened upon Sahar during these years of her life, she would have told you that she had found her calling. And in many ways, she would have been telling the truth. But her future wasn’t finished unfolding.

In August of 2021, after Sahar had been with the Afghan Civil Services for many years, the Taliban retook control of Afghanistan. Once again, they restricted female education and job opportunities. As a result, Sahar lost her job.

For much of her life, Sahar had found her purpose through her work. She was up before four in the morning to begin her tasks, and generally didn’t return home until seven or eight at night. Even during her off days, she worked on her Master’s degree to further her education. But when the Taliban came, all of this ended abruptly.

“I was depressed.” This was the first description Sahar gave me about the months after the Taliban takeover. “I felt I had no purpose, everything had been taken from me.” She said, “I was no longer allowed to travel, to continue my programs, or to earn a salary. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing.” And for months, her life consisted only of the simple daily tasks required to stay alive. It likely would have continued as such for much longer, if it weren’t for Sahar’s neighbor.

In a lucky turn of events, Sahar’S neighbor told her about an online school she had been attending. It was called the Institute for English Learning, and at the time it had only two classes available; both of which taught English. Sensing a new opportunity, Sahar decided to enroll in one of the classes. She had a strong knowledge of English, but had no way of keeping it up until she discovered IEL. In a short time, her class with IEL transformed her life. She said: “I was brought out of my depression. Learning gave me something to do, and allowed me to see people again. It was exactly what I needed.”

In many schools, Sahar’s story probably would’ve dwindled out at about this point with a simple happy ever after. She was no longer depressed, she was learning again, and all was well. However, this was only the beginning for Sahar.

Sahar had only been with IEL for a few weeks when she received a call from an unknown number in the United States. “I had no idea who it was,” she said. “I’d never gotten a call from the US before.” She picked up the phone, and a voice on the other side of the line introduced herself as Elke Damesyn, founder of IEL. Elke had noticed Sahar’S proficiency in English, and offered her a position as a teacher with the school. Sahar accepted, and a new chapter of her life began.

During Sahar’S first few years at IEL, the program slowly expanded from having two classes to having eight. Sahar worked first as an assistant, then as a teacher, and is now a principal, overseeing more than seventy-five classes. She explained, “Some of the classes I see are in Afghanistan itself, but we also support Afghan refugees in Sacramento and Elk Grove. Seeing each of the students reminds me every day how lucky I am to be able to give them the opportunities they deserve.”

Life with IEL isn’t always easy, of course. Sahar wakes up at four in the morning every day to begin her responsibilities, and she says, “Some of our students are up at midnight or three AM to attend classes.” However this dedication is what makes her job so special. “I’ve always thought of IEL as not a school, but a family,” Sahar said. “The dedication and self-sacrifice I see every day from both students and teachers give me so much hope for the future.”

Just as Sahar’s future wasn’t finished when she lost her job, it isn’t finished now. She’s incredibly grateful for that. She says, “I wouldn’t rather be anywhere but where I am right now. And it excites me so much that right now is always changing.”

Everyone experiences a different version of the present, so it’s up to us to use our unique opportunities to create the lives that we want for ourselves. No matter how many obstacles we may encounter, there are always opportunities. We owe it to ourselves to find them.

The Strength of Belief

Tue, 19 Aug 2025 19:42:15 GMT

A Biography of an Afghan Advisor

Arezo is a young woman who was born and raised in Afghanistan. From a young age,

she was exposed to the unfair expectations of the world. In Afghan culture, women and girls

are expected to submit to the men in their lives, putting themselves aside in order to ensure

the men’s comfort. This societal value led to her father mistreating her mother for many

years, creating a volatile childhood for Arezo. Adding to the instability, when Arezo was a

teenager, her mother developed a mental illness. Her father divorced her and began a life

with another woman, leaving Arezo and her siblings with no way of supporting themselves.

For many years, her family struggled with extreme financial difficulties. Her mother was

largely unable to work, and often required care during difficult periods of her illness. Thus

the burden fell on Arezo and her siblings to keep the family buoyant. Through whatever

means they could find, they worked to make ends meet, and came through their trials much

stronger than before. In Arezo’s words, “my family rebuilt our life, and even right now it’s

better than the past.”

Growing up with a single mother, Arezo was taught to study hard. She learned

English, attended school, and was shown that marriage does not make a girl any more

worthy than she already is. Her mother demonstrated a resilience and motivation that

shaped Arezo into the person she is today. Many Afghan girls marry young, starting families

and taking care of their households for nearly their entire life. Arezo, on the other hand, has

had the opportunity to attend school, have a job, and meet hundreds of amazing people from

around the world.

Each one of the people Arezo has gotten to know throughout her years have shaped

her life in a unique way. One example of this is clear through Arezo’s time in high school.

Like all Afghan women, the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan changed the trajectory of her

life. The Taliban re-entered Afghanistan before Arezo graduated high school, and for a period

of time she couldn’t attend school since online programs were competitive and hard to come

by. After searching online for school programs, she met Elke Damesyn, who runs the

Institute for English Literacy. Arezo and Elke quickly bonded, and Arezo began taking classes

through the IEL program. She loved the school, learning so much from it. She said, “being

taught by people with such optimism and hope for the future inspired me to expand my own

dreams.” She began looking for more ways to further her education and widen her horizons.

For months, Arezo spent all of her free time writing essays to apply to an

international high school program. Despite the effort she put into her application, she was

denied entry since she didn’t have a passport. “It was heartbreaking news for me,” she said.

“One of the only things that helped me was talking to Elke. She reminded me not to give up,

and told me to continue striving for other opportunities. She fully believed in me.” That

belief gave Arezo the confidence to continue searching, and in no time at all she was accepted

to the American University of Afghanistan. She finished high school and started her

Bachelor’s Degree, which she is still working on right now.

Going to school and meeting Elke had a monumental impact on Arezo’s life. As she

learned and grew, she realized how lucky she was to have the opportunities and perspective

that she does. Few girls in Afghanistan have strong female role models, making it difficult

for them to see what women are capable of. Arezo wants to change this, to give them

something concrete to endeavor for. After much consideration on the best way to do this, she

applied for an advisory position with IEL.

Arezo’s compassion, understanding, and empathy made her incredibly qualified to be

an advisor, and she was given the job almost immediately after submitting her application.

Since that day, she has touched the lives of nearly all of the people involved with IEL, and

many more outside the program as well. Like her, all of the students and teachers at IEL are

Afghani. Arezo relates to them in a way that few people outside the country ever could. She

explains: “I’m a good advisor since I’ve experienced so much difficulty in my life. I can use

my own experiences to help others make decisions and plan for their futures.” The same way

that her mom encouraged Arezo to learn English, Arezo encourages her students to learn

English. And the same way that Elke encouraged Arezo to find a scholarship, Arezo

encourages students to search for them as well. She says, “most of what I do has nothing to

do with school or learning. I simply believe in the students. I show them that I believe in

them and I create opportunities for them to believe in themselves. Whether it’s by finding

them scholarships or signing them up for the English proficiency test, I do my best to show

them a world where anything is possible, as long as they believe they can do it.”

This outlook on life is one we could all use more of. No matter what we want out of

our lives, knowing that someone believes in us makes it seem a little more possible. Sharing

our lives, our stories, and our dreams can bring so much joy to oneself, and can spread so

much joy to others. Arezo says, “what makes me happiest is not the things in my life that are

successful. It’s when others are happy, and I can join them and celebrate with them.”

Arezo stated at the beginning of her interview saying, “Women in Afghanistan have

no power.” Throughout her life, however, she has proven the opposite. Power does not have

to come through control, or authority. It can be a simple shift in perspective. By encouraging

Afghan girls to believe in themselves, Arezo empowers both herself and those she

encourages. She improves their lives despite the difficulties of the world they live in, creating

unstoppable change through conversations and motivation. Through every aspect of herself,

she has become the role model that she wanted other girls to have.

The importance of believing in others is not to be understated. Arezo is living proof

that such belief can change the lives of many. So for a moment, consider those in your life,

and show them that you believe in them. Big or small, a little belief goes a long way.

The Strength of Hope

Sat, 21 Jun 2025 21:41:47 GMT

A biography of an afghan mother

The word hope is defined as, “the action of cherishing a desire with anticipation.” In a simple sense, this does establish the meaning of the word. However I believe that hope can be so much more. To me, true hope is to desire something without an expectation of fulfillment. And the clearest example I’ve seen of this is through Melika. An Afghan who grew up in Iran, Melika’s story embodies the meaning of hope through a lifelong series of trials and triumphs. As she experienced inequality in school, an early marriage, and the Taliban rule, she never gave up hope for a better future. Melika helped me to truly understand the strength that hope can carry, and I know that her story will continue to inspire others as well.

Born into a large family in Iran, parts of Melika’s childhood parallel mine. Like me, she spent her childhood in a country that was not her own. I grew up in Germany as a military child, and she grew up in Iran as the daughter of an Afghan man. Oftentimes, living outside of a home country can make one feel as if they don't belong, but for Melika, that feeling didn’t last very long. Living in Iran provided her with opportunities to learn and understand the world from a different point of view, and she says, “despite how difficult it sometimes was, I wouldn’t change a thing”.

Melika began school at the age of seven in the first grade. On the first day of school, her brother walked her to the door. She recalls, “All the students were Iranian, I was the only Afghan girl there. I always tried to bring my brother in with me so that I wouldn’t feel so scared, but he could never come.” After about a month of feeling shy, however, Melika found her place. “My fear escaped and I was relaxed and it was really a memorable place for me”. From there on, school became one of her favorite places to be. Melika realized at a young age that she enjoyed learning and growing her knowledge, and so she dedicated herself to her studies. One of her favorite classes was English. Unlike my typical English classes, where we read novels and write essays, Melika’s English classes taught her how to speak and understand the language. “Deciding to take English classes was one of the luckiest things I ever did,” she said. “Since I studied English I could get lots of jobs and talk to people from all over the world.” And she did, in fact, do both of those. Nowadays, Melika is an assistant teacher at an online school providing classes to young girls, and she interacts with people from many other countries. She loves her job and all that comes with it, but she admitted that this life didn’t follow her original plan.

After high school, Melika wanted to attend University. In Iran, however, laws prevented non-Iranian citizens from attending post-secondary education. Despite her high test scores and grades, Melika had no way of moving on with her schooling. Instead, her path took a very different turn. At the age of seventeen, her father arranged her marriage to the son of a family he knew. She explained, “It was not possible for me or other Afghan people to go to University, so I decided it was better to get married.”

In Afghan culture, arranged marriages are very common. Melika’s father coordinated the marriage, partnering her with one of the few other Afghan families in Iran. “It was my father’s decision but I was okay with it,” she said. Melika only met her husband a few times before their marriage, but quickly got to know him. Growing up as Afghans in Iran, they had many things in common, and connected really well. When I asked what life was like after her marriage, she said, “I moved in with my husband and his family, and I never had any problems. I got so lucky. I love my husband, and he loves and respects me as well. Not everyone gets that.”

Shortly after being married, Melika got pregnant with her first child. “I was a young mother,” she said on our call, laughing. “My children are my favorite part of my life. I wouldn’t want it any other way.” After having her first son, Melika went on to have three more sons and a daughter. When her oldest son was about twenty years old, their family made the decision to move back to Afghanistan to find better jobs and be closer to extended family. Melika states that this decision was one of the best she ever made. “In Afghanistan our children can be around their culture all the time,” she said. “Along with that, I’ve had amazing opportunities to teach in many different schools, as well as being headmaster at a school for a few years.” Although she never got to attend University, Melika found ways to put her education to good use, and make sure that other young women can have every opportunity possible.

In Taliban-occupied Afghanistan, however, it’s rare for women to have the opportunities they want. Especially where education is involved. This fact affects Melika in two prominent ways: through her job, and through her daughter.

Firstly, it’s important to note how the laws of the Taliban affect women holding jobs. Since the Taliban retook power in Afghanistan in 2021, they have implemented a long series of laws restricting the freedom of women. Among these are rules preventing women from holding jobs with nonprofit organizations, jobs in the public service sector, and jobs which involve caring for boys and men. Luckily for Melika, teachers were still very much needed, so she could keep her job. However, she continued teaching in a much less conventional way. When restrictions were put into place, she joined an organization called Institute for English Literacy. This organization set up online schools throughout Afghanistan to provide education to girls. Since girls above the age of sixth grade are no longer allowed to attend school, one of the only ways for them to continue their education is through organizations like this, with the help of teachers like Melika. This organization goes against the laws of the Taliban, making it illegal to work for and attend, but Melika firmly believes that girls should be able to achieve any level of education. When I asked about her goals as a teacher, she said, “I do my best to encourage my students that there are opportunities available for them, no matter how difficult the world may seem,” and later added, “Through this school, we can teach girls skills that will allow them to go out into the world and make the lives they want.” It will always be difficult for girls to grow up in Afghanistan, but with a strong education, they can have a greater hope for the future.

Beyond helping other girls receive an education, Melika’s job as a teacher allows her to focus on the future of her daughter as well. To give some background information, it’s important to share about Melika’s experience mothering a daughter.

The birth of Melika’s daughter was a bittersweet occasion. During her pregnancy, Melika chose to wait to find out if she had a girl or a boy until the child was born. Upon discovering that she had a daughter, Melika shared that, “I looked at my daughter Kushaaneh and became sad; not because she was a girl, but because she would have to endure certain challenges, as I have. In our society, there are restrictions not rooted in our religion. Islam grants certain rights, but local tradition and customs often conflict with them. This discrepancy leads to women being deprived of some of their rights, such as suitable working conditions, safe environments, educational opportunities, and most importantly, the ability to travel abroad alone.” Due to the difficulties she had experienced in society, Melika understood the hardships that her daughter would undoubtedly face. It was hard for her to know that she could not protect Kushaaneh from this, but Melika promised to give her the best life she could. Although her birth initially brought sadness, it also gave Melika strong hope for the future. Exemplifying this hope, she spoke of the joy that came with her daughter’s arrival, “I was very happy because girls are more emotional than boys and closer to their mothers. Kushaaneh also makes me think about the world in different ways, and I try my best to be an example of a strong woman so that she can see firsthand the power that women can have.”

As her daughter has grown older, Melika believes that she has exhibited this strength and power in ways that cannot be taught. She shared with me many examples of Kushaaneh’s smart and caring nature, but one story stuck with me specifically. About eleven years after her daughter’s birth, Melika felt bad for a long period of time, and went to the doctor to ensure that nothing was wrong. There she discovered that she was once again pregnant. This came as a shock to her, since she had been on birth control pills since having her last child. After four children, Melika had no desire to go through another pregnancy and childbirth, and she was in a very poor mental state by the time she came to term. She said: “At the very least I hoped that I could have a daughter so that Kushaaneh wouldn’t be alone. When I gave birth to a son, I grew very disheartened and was unhappy for a long time.” She went on to explain that one of the only things that kept her going and made her happy again was her daughter. “She came to talk to me and comforted me to get me out of that state. I owe her so much, and she made me realize what a great blessing a daughter is.”

A common Afghan parable says that, “A son is a blessing, and a daughter is both a blessing and a curse.” Through this experience, Melika was able to recognize the truth of this statement. Despite the difficulty of seeing Kushaaneh grow up in an unjust society, she understood that her daughter was a gift that was unparalleled. Kushaaneh brought joy, compassion, and empathy into Melika’s life. She helped to care for her younger brother when Melika was overrun with work, and provided opportunities for fun outings and conversations that her teenage brothers had no interest in. At such a young age, Kushaaneh has already made an incredible difference in the lives she has touched. It is both my hope and Melika’s that she will be able to continue to do so as she matures into womanhood.

Outside of the life Melika has made with her family and her teaching, she has many other interests and aspirations. During our first meeting, she spoke of her love of travel. Although Iran and Afghanistan have many beautiful places, she wants to experience other cultures and expand her knowledge of the world. Travel bans make it difficult to leave the country, so she has made the most of it by traveling inside Afghanistan. As part of her description of the country, she shared about the historic art that she’s visited. One of her favorite pieces was the sculpture of Buddha in Bamiyan Province. To her, this sculpture symbolized what Afghanistan should be. She said, “Buddha represents peace, wisdom, and freedom from struggles. Seeing this sculpture carved permanently into our land gives me hope that those values will return to lead our society.” Although Afghanistan struggles with poverty, unjust laws, and violence, Melika believes that the future can still hold beauty and hope for her and her fellow citizens. Tangible art pieces such as the Buddha help exemplify this hope, but it is best shown through the words of those who live through these hard times. To experience the difficulties that Melika has been through and still maintain resilience and dedication is the sign of true strength. Throughout her life, Melika has faced incredible difficulties that I cannot begin to imagine. She bears them with stride, looking to the future instead of dwelling on the past.

Melika’s life and the impact she has on this world are far from over. She will continue to fight for opportunities for women, and will not stop until equality is achieved. In her own words, “I have endured these hardships because I know that the more we strive, the better we can live.” She models this through her daily life, and through her dreams for the future. At the end of our conversation, she expressed her deepest dreams, connecting them to her strongest beliefs. “I believe that all people in the world are connected, and we should support and help each other. Spreading love and understanding can lead to a better life for everyone. Let’s work towards unity and peace, avoiding conflicts and striving for a harmonious future. I dream for an equal education for our youth, so that they can be prepared for their responsibilities in society. I dream that all our girls and women can live the way they want, enjoying a comfortable and peaceful life. I dream for permanent peace in Afghanistan, so that no one feels the need to wish for peace anymore - because peace will already be everywhere. That is my dream.”

Those who are in the middle of challenging situations yet still hold onto hope are proof that change can come. With dedication, strength, and perseverance, dreams will become reality.

https://www.amnesty.org/en/location/asia-and-the-pacific/south-asia/afghanistan/report-afghanistan/

Historical Context

Sat, 21 Jun 2025 21:40:53 GMT

As many people may know, one of the first things a baby does when they are born is scream. This scream is a protest of the pain they’ve been made to endure. It is also a sign of health, opening up a newborn’s airways so they can breathe. In fact, if a baby doesn’t cry, they are made to by a doctor. Crying out is the first lesson one is ever taught. It is ironic, therefore, that shouting out and protesting are actions that are often frowned upon and forbidden once babies become adults.

This irony is very evident in the country of Afghanistan. Laws prohibit women from talking outside of their homes, and require them to cover their bodies and hair. Women cannot attend in-person school beyond sixth grade, and may not own businesses or hold certain jobs. These rules, as well as many more, are implemented by the Taliban.

Beginning in 1990, the Taliban initially started as a group of farmers, store-workers, and laborers. These people, all of whom were men, banded together during the Afghan Civil War. They gained power and followers as the years progressed, and in 1996 they took over the Afghan government. Once in control, they put in place a series of strict laws based on the Quran, or the religious text of Islam. Despite protests and pushback from citizens, these laws were brutally enforced during the Taliban’s first period of control. Government soldiers surveilled the streets of towns, and anyone found to be breaking a law was punished through verbal or physical means. Although the group lost authority in 2001, in August of 2021 they regained full power over the government. The same laws and restrictions were put back in place, and continue to be implemented to this day.

These laws have vastly changed the lives of all Afghan people, especially women and minorities. With such strict rules, citizens have learned to appreciate every small freedom. For example, many online schools provide classes to Afghan girls beyond sixth grade. This allows them to continue their education and create a future for themselves. Underground therapy and mental health services have also been created to help treat the anxiety and depression that have unfortunately become common during these last few years.

Although many of the women of Afghanistan have been cast down and forced to leave their jobs and schools, they continue to dream. Hopefully, change will come and their dreams can come true. Until that occurs, however, sharing the stories of these women serves as a reminder to them that their dreams have significance in the eyes of others.

HOPES AND DREAMS - THE WOMEN OF AFGHANISTAN SHARE THEIR STORIES

Sun, 07 May 2023 09:17:06 GMT

Often, being asked the question “what are your hopes and dreams?” can seem commonplace in our world. At one point, we’ve all had dreams, aspirations, and goals. For the women of Afghanistan, however, hopes and dreams are something they’ve rarely had the chance to share with others. The Taliban government has placed strong restrictions on freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and even social media, making it very difficult for women to connect with people outside of their country.

The goal of this blog is to serve as a connection point between the women of Afghanistan and the rest of the world. Thanks to the Institute for English Literacy, an online school that provides classes to women and girls in Afghanistan, I have had the incredible experience of meeting with many women in Afghanistan. Over the course of several WhatsApp calls, we have had the privilege of getting to know these women - their stories, daily lives, and hopes for the future. We then share their experiences in blog posts, offering them a platform to tell their stories and to be seen and heard in a country where those freedoms are often not granted. Getting to know these women and giving voice to their experiences has been one of the most meaningful opportunities of my life. I sincerely hope that their hopes and dreams will inspire others as well.

-Norah Feldt

Norah Feldt Bio

My name is Norah, I am sixteen years old and in the 10th grade. Ever since I was young, I’ve loved to travel, be in nature, and run. I’ve been to more than thirty countries across three continents, and thanks to my father’s job in the Air Force I also had the amazing experience of living in Germany for several years. This gave me perspectives into many cultures that differ from my own, and sparked my interest in learning about others. Along with this, for seven months when I was young, my father was deployed to Afghanistan. Hearing about his time there, the people he met, and the stories that were shared with him inspired me to find a way to raise awareness for the people of Afghanistan. I believe every story deserves to be told, and I’m so blessed to have the opportunity to share about the lives of the incredible women of Afghanistan.