My Voice! My choice!
Sada e Maan! Intekhab e Maan!
In mid 2007, I joined UNICEF-Herat in Western Afghanistan to head the field-office. Three sub-offices in the far-flung provinces reported to me as well. The security situation was alarming. We operated with extreme caution. I received an abduction threat in the first year.
Herat was a famous city, it borders Iran and Turkmenistan. It had always been a thriving center of art, culture, music and education, in the past. Years of conflict, and the Taliban regime had left behind a legacy of fear––people were nervous, extra careful about pursuing girls’ education, art and music.
UNICEF was the main sponsor for girls’ education in Afghanistan. We had garnered strong partnerships with the Departments of education across the country. We funded school constructions, provided training of teachers, learning materials, furniture and water and sanitation in schools. Girls dropped out in higher classes when they began menstruating unless they had access to toilets.
We also paid for high boundary walls surrounding the girls’ schools as the community demanded. They wanted their girls to observe purdah while in school. As a result, the cost of building one high school was around USD $200-$500 thousand.
Almost every morning, the road at the entrance of the city used to be jammed with girls hurrying to their schools. They came in different shapes, sizes and ages… In groups, with siblings… All covered in polka dotted black chador -a large shawl to cover up. Burqa wasn’t trendy among school girls and educated women of Herat. Blue and black jeans clad legs stuck out under the chador and their happy voices could be heard from a distance. Some hurried with their friends on foot, some arrived on the back of motor bikes driven by their fathers.
For many girls, school was the only outdoor venture for socializing. The strict Afghani custom prevented most girls to undertake any activities on their own––without the controlling eyes of their families, usually the fathers, uncles or older brothers.
Among the girls’ schools we supported, I would always remember the Haitifi high school (grades I to XII). Over 10,000 children were enrolled in Haitifi out of which maximum were girls who attended classes in two shifts.
The school was crowded beyond its capacity. There weren’t enough classrooms to accommodate all students. About 600 girls sat under the sun in torn tents for hours, to learn.
On the first day of school in 2008, I visited Haitifi. The girls mobbed me, demanded for additional class rooms.
“The sun is too hot in summer and the wind is freezing in winter,” they said.
They wanted to become scientists, playwrights… Journalists… Artists or octors… Like many other girls in South Asia. In unison they said Sada e maan! Intekhab e maan! - “It’s my voice, my choice to become what I want to be!”
They promised me that they would negotiate with their parents so that they were allowed to attend the Herat University after school completion.
As an interim response, we provided 8 tents, and tarpaulins to mend the torn tents. Later, we funded the construction of extra 5 class rooms and rehabilitated the toilets and water points.
We also supported Community-Based Schools -CBS-. These were based in mosques or a room of a residence, donated by a community member. Up to 35-50 children were taught in one class by one teacher. Supporting CBS was one of our approaches to encourage girls’ attendance.
Nafissa* was nine when she began attending the nearby CBS with her playmates, eager to learn new things. We found out that she learned a lot about Afghanistan, and could even point out Herat on the map. Her father was non-literate but when he discovered that Nafissa could read the tag lines in Dari -Persian- on a local TV broadcast that they watched at a neighbor’s house, he was proud of his daughter. He promised to continue to support her studies even if she had to go to a formal school for higher education.
“My father is proud -maghroor- of me because I can read!” chanted an excited Nafissa whenever she got a chance to share her story with others. And in UNICEF we loved her story!
According to UNESCO, globally 132 million girls, approximately, are out of school right at this moment. As of January 2023, 2.5 million (80%) Afghan girls and young women are out of school, 1.2 million of whom were banned from accessing secondary schools and universities after the Taliban took over in August, 2021.
However, in November 2021, about 26 girls’ schools from grades 7-12 have reopened in Herat, the 3rd largest City in Afghanistan, but none in the Herat province, as confirmed by the families of girls (AP, Islamabad). It appears to be a localized change allowed by the Taliban.
* Name changed