Lives Interrupted

Freshta Nasimi had aspirations of becoming an engineer, a job that would bring her a steady income and the freedom young people yearn for.

But for the past couple of years, Nasimi, 20, hasn’t gone to school. In 2022, the Taliban government barred women in Afghanistan from attending universities, a few months after closing schools to girls beyond the sixth grade. It was just one of a series of prohibitions that the ruling Taliban, a radical Islamic faction, had issued to banish Afghan women and girls from public life.

Nasimi had hoped the government would at the very least broadcast girls’ schooling over television, but authorities banned such programs from the airwaves in February 2024. Now Nasimi says her dreams of a professional life have vanished.

“My future?” she asks. “I don’t have a future except being a housewife and raising children.”

Blocking access to education is part of the Taliban’s broader crackdown
on the rights of women since they retook control of the country in 2021 (see timeline, below). The militant group upholds an extreme version of Sharia law—principles derived from the Quran that shape all aspects of Muslim society, including the role of women. Taliban leaders have banned women from most professions and from appearing in public spaces, such as parks, gyms, and salons. Women can’t travel far unless accompanied by a male relative or leave home without covering themselves from head to toe in a burqa or other loose clothing. The law even prohibits women from speaking aloud in public.

Freshta Nasimi once dreamed of becoming an engineer. The job would bring her a steady income and the freedom young people desire.

But for the past couple of years, Nasimi, 20, hasn’t been able to go to school. In 2022, the Taliban government barred women in Afghanistan from attending universities. Schools were also closed to girls beyond the sixth grade. These were part of a series of prohibitions that the Taliban, a radical Islamic faction, had issued to hide Afghan women and girls from public life.

Nasimi had hoped the government would at the very least broadcast girls’ schooling over television. But in February 2024, authorities banned such programs. Now Nasimi says her dreams of a professional life have disappeared.

“My future?” she asks. “I don’t have a future except being a housewife and raising children.”

Blocking access to education is part of the Taliban’s broader crackdown on the rights of women since they retook control of the country in 2021 (see timeline, below). The militant group upholds an extreme version of Sharia law—principles derived from the Quran that guide Muslim society, including the role of women. Taliban leaders have banned women from most professions. Women also can no longer appear in public spaces, such as parks, gyms, and salons. They can’t travel far unless accompanied by a male relative. They also must cover themselves from head to toe in a burqa or other loose clothing when they leave home. The law even prohibits women from speaking aloud in public.

It’s a return to a past that Afghan women hoped never to see again. During their previous reign from 1996 to 2001, the Taliban had enforced the same restrictions until they were driven from power by war. In 2001, the United States, linking the Taliban to Al Qaeda, the terrorist group that carried out the September 11 attacks, led an invasion that toppled the regime and replaced it with a more Western-style democracy.

During the two decades American troops occupied the country—and battled Taliban forces that retreated to the countryside to wage a guerrilla war—the U.S. spent more than $780 million to promote women’s emancipation. It was a period of hope. Women found jobs. The government built health facilities and enshrined women’s rights in the constitution, including laws protecting them against violence and provisions requiring that women account for half of all presidential appointments.

It’s a return to a past that Afghan women hoped never to see again. From 1996 to 2001, the Taliban had enforced the same restrictions until they were driven from power by war. In 2001, the United States linked the Taliban to Al Qaeda, the terrorist group that carried out the September 11 attacks. The U.S. then led an invasion that ended the rule of the Taliban, replacing it with a more Western-style democracy.

For twenty years American troops occupied the country and battled Taliban forces that had retreated to the countryside. During this time, the U.S. spent more than $780 million to promote women’s rights and freedoms. It was a period of hope. Women found jobs. The government built health facilities and added women’s rights to the constitution. New laws protected women against violence and required that women account for half of all presidential appointments.

From 2003 to 2017, according to the World Bank, the number of girls attending primary schools rose from 10 percent to 33 percent, and one-quarter of university students were women.

But when a war-weary U.S. pulled its forces out of Afghanistan in 2021, after a peace deal with the Taliban, the democratic government collapsed and the Taliban swept back into power and erased the gains women had made (see “The Doha Agreement,” below).

Last August, the Taliban issued a 114-page document enforcing the regime’s laws. Among other things, it further empowers so-called vice and virtue police—government officials who stand on street corners in white robes issuing warnings about women’s clothing and behavior. They can now detain people for up to three days for repeated violations.

Taliban officials argue that the laws are rooted in Islamic teachings.

“Afghanistan is an Islamic nation,” says Zabiullah Mujahid, a government spokesman. “Islamic laws are inherently applicable within its society.”

But to women, the document spells the end of their aspirations.

“We are going back to the first reign of the Taliban, when women did not have the right to leave the house,” says Musarat Faramarz, 23, a woman in Baghlan Province, in northern Afghanistan. “We are experiencing the previous dark times again.”

From 2003 to 2017, according to the World Bank, the number of girls attending primary schools rose from 10 percent to 33 percent, and one-quarter of university students were women.

But a war-weary U.S. pulled its forces out of Afghanistan after making a peace deal with the Taliban in 2021. The democratic government soon collapsed, and the Taliban came back into power and erased the gains women had made (see “The Doha Agreement,” below).

Last August, the Taliban issued a 114-page document enforcing the regime’s laws. Among other things, it further empowers so-called vice and virtue police. These are government officials who stand on street corners in white robes issuing warnings about women’s clothing and behavior. They can now detain people for up to three days for repeated violations.

Taliban officials argue that the laws are rooted in Islamic teachings.

“Afghanistan is an Islamic nation,” says Zabiullah Mujahid, a government spokesman. “Islamic laws are inherently applicable within its society.”

But to women, the document spells the end of their hopes and dreams.

“We are going back to the first reign of the Taliban, when women did not have the right to leave the house,” says Musarat Faramarz, 23, a woman in Baghlan Province, in northern Afghanistan. “We are experiencing the previous dark times again.”

The deterioration of women’s rights has come amid a worsening humanitarian crisis for the nation. The Taliban’s return prompted foreign investors to take their money out of Afghanistan—money it needed to rebuild from decades of war—causing the economy to collapse. A record two-thirds of the population—or 23 million people—will need some form of humanitarian assistance this year as a hunger crisis looms, the United Nations says.

But local and international aid groups are having a much more difficult time aiding women. They once relied on female workers to reach women and their families, who are often prohibited from contact with outside men. But the Taliban have blocked women from working with these groups.

“This is not a political decision,” says Adam Combs, regional director at the Norwegian Refugee Council, of his group’s inability to reach women in need. “It’s actually reality. We cannot do our job if we do not have a female staff in place to work.”

Even inside the Taliban regime, some argue that the new crackdown on women’s rights has been too harsh. A majority of influential Taliban leaders, experts say, disagree with the harshest policies set by the supreme leader, Sheik Haibatullah. Some have privately lobbied for girls to be allowed to return to school and for women to resume work in government offices, several Taliban and foreign officials say.

The decline of women’s rights has come during a worsening humanitarian crisis for the nation. The Taliban’s return prompted foreign investors to take their money out of Afghanistan. That money is necessary to rebuild  the country after decades of war. Without it, the economy has collapsed. A record two-thirds of the population—or 23 million people—will need some form of humanitarian assistance this year as a hunger crisis looms, the United Nations says.

But local and international aid groups are having a much more difficult time aiding women. They once relied on female workers to reach women and their families, who are often prohibited from contact with outside men. But the Taliban have blocked women from working with these groups.

“This is not a political decision,” says Adam Combs, regional director at the Norwegian Refugee Council, of his group’s inability to reach women in need. “It’s actually reality. We cannot do our job if we do not have a female staff in place to work.”

Even inside the Taliban regime, some argue that the new crackdown on women’s rights has been too harsh. Experts say a majority of influential Taliban leaders disagree with the harshest policies set by the supreme leader, Sheik Haibatullah. Some have privately pushed for girls to be allowed to return to school and for women to resume work in government offices, several Taliban and foreign officials say.

Still, while no other nation officially recognizes the Taliban government, many countries, including ones in Europe, have accepted that the regime is here to stay. Mainly out of fear that terrorist groups could again take root in Afghanistan, these countries have begun talks with the Taliban, even without a promise to ease restrictions on women.

The U.S. remains one of the few nations that have continued to press the Taliban on women’s rights. American officials have blocked the Taliban’s access to money in American banks and prohibit Taliban officials from traveling to the U.S.

Sirajuddin Haqqani, one of Haibatullah’s more vocal critics within the Taliban, seems to recognize that even an authoritarian government needs public support to last.

The current situation “does not mean that girls are forever denied from going to schools and receiving an education,” he says, arguing that the harsh measures might be a necessary tactic for helping his country transition from the war.

“Unity is important for Afghanistan currently,” he adds, “so we can have a peaceful country.”

No other nation officially recognizes the Taliban government. However, many countries, including ones in Europe, have accepted that the regime is here to stay. Some of these countries have begun talks with the Taliban, even without a promise to ease restrictions on women. These countries fear that terrorist groups could again take root in Afghanistan.

The U.S. remains one of the few nations that have continued to press the Taliban on women’s rights. American officials have blocked the Taliban’s access to money in American banks. Taliban officials are banned from traveling to the U.S.

Sirajuddin Haqqani, one of Haibatullah’s more vocal critics within the Taliban, seems to recognize that even an authoritarian government needs public support to last.

The current situation “does not mean that girls are forever denied from going to schools and receiving an education,” he says, arguing that the harsh measures might be a necessary tactic for helping his country transition from the war.

“Unity is important for Afghanistan currently,” he adds, “so we can have a peaceful country.”

The reversal of rights may be the hardest for the young women who came of age in an era of opportunity for women during the U.S. occupation. Once, it seemed possible that they could become politicians, athletes, surgeons, or C.E.O.s.

Some girls vow to plow ahead with their education. Underground schools, often little more than a few dozen students and a tutor tucked away in people’s private homes, have cropped up across Afghanistan. Other girls have turned to online classes, even as the internet cuts in and out.

Mohadisa Hasani, 18, began studying again about a year after the Taliban seized power. She had talked to two former classmates who were evacuated to the U.S. and Canada. Hearing about what they were studying in school stoked jealousy in her at first.

But then she saw an opportunity. She asked those friends to spend an hour each week teaching her the lessons they were learning in physics and chemistry. She woke up for the calls at 6 a.m. and spent the days in between poring over photos they sent of their textbooks.

“Some of my friends are painting, they are writing, they are doing underground tae kwon do classes,” Hasani says. “Our depression is always there, but we have to be brave.”

“I love Afghanistan, I love my country. I just don’t love the government and people forcing their beliefs onto others,” she adds.

The reversal of rights may be the hardest for the young women who came of age during the U.S. occupation, when women had more opportunities. Then, it seemed possible that they could become politicians, athletes, surgeons, or C.E.O.s.

Some girls vow to plow ahead with their education. Underground schools have cropped up across Afghanistan. These often consist of a few dozen students and a tutor tucked away in people’s private homes. Other girls have turned to online classes, even with unreliable internet.

Mohadisa Hasani, 18, began studying again about a year after the Taliban took power. She had talked to two former classmates who were evacuated to the U.S. and Canada. Hearing about what they were studying in school made her jealous at first.

But then she saw an opportunity. She asked those friends to spend an hour each week teaching her what they were learning in physics and chemistry. She woke up for the calls at 6 a.m. and spent the days in between studying photos they sent of their textbooks.

“Some of my friends are painting, they are writing, they are doing underground tae kwon do classes,” Hasani says. “Our depression is always there, but we have to be brave.”

“I love Afghanistan, I love my country. I just don’t love the government and people forcing their beliefs onto others,” she adds.

Afghan women and girls are pushing back in other ways too. Some have protested in the streets to demand the restoration of their rights, risking arrest, detention, and violence. But like the secret classes, these protests can get women only so far.

Rahmani, 43, who goes by only her last name for fear of retribution, says she hasn’t been able to provide for her four children since she lost her job with a nonprofit group. She’s also lost her sense of self, she says.

“I miss the days when I used to be somebody, when I could work and earn a living and serve my country,” she explains. “They have erased our presence from society.”

Afghan women and girls are pushing back in other ways too. Some have protested in the streets to demand the restoration of their rights. They risk arrest, detention, and violence. But like the secret classes, these protests can get women only so far.

Rahmani, 43, who goes by only her last name for fear of retribution, says she hasn’t been able to provide for her four children since she lost her job with a nonprofit group. She’s also lost her sense of self, she says.

“I miss the days when I used to be somebody, when I could work and earn a living and serve my country,” she explains. “They have erased our presence from society.”

With reporting by Christina Goldbaum of The New York Times.

With reporting by Christina Goldbaum of The New York Times.