REFUGEES TEACHING REFUGEES
Calgary-based charity helping to connect Afghan girls in Pakistan with online resources
Tucked away on a small side street in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, among the hustle and bustle of colourful rickshaws and people peddling oranges on carts, is a narrow stairwell leading to classrooms that are reigniting dreams.
There are no big signs for the school out front. It's unmarked for safety reasons. That's because this basic, concrete structure provides a rare chance for Afghan girls to go to school, something they're not allowed to do in their own country.
“I love my classmates, I love my teachers,” says Motahera Sultani, a Grade 7 student at My TOEFL House. She attends class six days a week, but wishes she could go everyday. Sultani is now learning three languages — English, Russian and Urdu, on top of her native language, Pashto.
“How would you describe your love for school?” I ask.
“About 100 per cent, or even 1,000 per cent,” the beaming girl says.
Sultani's dream of returning to the classroom was made possible by two Afghan teachers who found themselves in the same rocky boat as their students. Murtaza Ahmadi and Dawood Hussaini both fled Afghanistan after the Taliban takeover, becoming refugees themselves. They didn't know each other when they first reached Pakistan, but went through the same emotions in those early months. Both were depressed and frustrated at not being able to instruct young minds anymore — the two educators had more than 30 years of teaching experience between them.
But a chance encounter in 2022 changed everything.
“Our meeting was like a coincidence,” Ahmadi says with a laugh. “We met each other at a party, and that's where we started talking.”
That brainstorming led to a focus on girls' education. As the Taliban restricted girls beyond Grade 6 from going to school, they set up their classes to start in Grade 7. Right now, 70 per cent of their pupils are female.
“Anyone who steps into the office, boys or girls, these are our children,” says Hussaini. “But if this is a girl, we should not let them go without any purpose.”
Afghanistan is the only country in the world that bans women and girls from the classroom. According to UNESCO, 80 per cent of school-aged women and girls — a staggering 2.5 million people — can't go to school. Islamic schools or Madrassas are the only educational centres open to females.
So Ahmadi and Hussaini piled their life savings together and figured they could financially make it work for three months. One year later, the school continues to flourish, with 270 students, 10 classrooms and a Canadian partnership that involves a digital learning centre.
The two teachers are quick to point out, it's not all about homework.
“Besides teaching English, we had to teach them some life skills like how to get rid of depression, how to get rid of stress and how to cope with life,” Ahmadi says.
They take the students to museums and parks to drive creativity. They also host a video club with stories of overcoming hardship to inspire those that are depressed about their circumstances.
Hussaini also tries to motivate the girls by celebrating the small wins. “Every time they have the tiniest success in class, we make it bolder and bolder … we try to change their mindsets from their past to their future,” he says.
Another challenge for the founders is adapting to a constant fluctuation of people in and out of class. New Pakistani policies have driven many students away. The recent rules crack down on Afghans living without visas, many of whom can't afford to renew their papers and are at serious risk if they return to Afghanistan.
With so many Afghan families on the move, digital learning has become a core part of this school's structure. That's where Canada comes in.
A Calgary-based charity and notfor-profit called Canadian Women for Women in Afghanistan, or Cw4wafghan, has been building that technology for years.
Now, every student at My TOEFL House is part of the Darakht-e Danesh or DD Academy. That includes an interactive digital library with more than 7,000 resources, an online classroom with pre-recorded lessons, and even live classes with teachers who hand out daily homework, complete with midterms and final exams. It's a full nine-month online program.
The goal is to prepare these girls for Grade 10, where a Canadian curriculum — including Canadian teachers — kicks in. In the meantime, a few educators from Alberta, B.C. and the Northwest Territories are volunteering their time to help get everyone's English up to par.
“Their contribution is so invaluable,” says Murwarid Zayid, the senior director at Cw4wafghan.
“You know, the time difference between Afghanistan and here in Canada is really late for them. They are already working full time during the day, so that means a lot to us.”
The online program allows Afghan students not only in Pakistan, but those stuck in Afghanistan or refugees on the move in Iran or Turkey, critical access to these online resources. Four hundred girls are now enrolled with a goal of expanding the digital classroom to 1,000 by the end of 2025.
But Zayid says they need more resources to do that. “We need more teachers, more data packages for students if they are inside Afghanistan … the digital learning centre will need more devices.”
It has become a personal life mission for Zayid to help these girls learn in any way possible. In 1996, she was about to write her final university exam in Kabul when her life drastically changed.
“Afghan women are going through the toughest time in their life,” she says. “This is hard and I know that because I am one of them. I was once banned from accessing education. I was at the university when the Taliban came the first time.”
She waited five years for that ban to come to an end, so she could write that final test and graduate. Many of her classmates missed that opportunity because they were forced into marriages, migrated to other countries or were killed in the war.
Cw4wafghan was formed in Canada in response to the Taliban's first ban on girls' education. Twenty-eight years later, it's happening again.
“Without education, I have seen where my classmates are now in their life,” Zayid says. “Sometimes you feel lucky, but at the same time you feel very upset about the people you were sharing the same chair with and sitting beside to get a lecture … and you see them so behind in life.”
That's what Zayid and the founders of My TOEFL House hope can be prevented in countries such as Pakistan — through teaching and technology, they want Afghan girls to expand their imaginations and dream big again.
That doesn't seem to be a problem for 13-year-old Sultani. She likes the online platform better than her first school back in Afghanistan.
She excitedly tells me she wants to be an oceanographer when she grows up, and knows exactly where she wants to study.
“I like Oxford University,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “Mostly because it's Harry Potter's school.”
I was once banned from accessing education. I was at the university when the Taliban came the first time.