I feel like a criminal, says Afghan girl forced to sneak into school
THE ping of a Whatsapp message on Zahra’s mother’s phone is the signal she has been waiting for – the coast is clear to go to school.
As Zahra*, 14, navigates the winding streets of western Kabul, she nervously looks around for signs of the Taliban.
Today is a good day, no one is around and she arrives without any issues at a nondescript building, where she slips inside a makeshift classroom to join other girls for a science lesson.
“I feel like a thief committing a robbery when all I am doing is trying to continue my education and attend school,” said Zahra, who dreams of becoming a doctor. It is one year since the Taliban swept back to power in Afghanistan and banned girls from attending secondary school.
But a network of hidden schools is now springing up across the country.
Farzadeh Amanullah*, 45, runs one in western Kabul for poor girls from Afghanistan’s Hazara minority. She was inspired after losing her own job as chancellor in one of Kabul’s leading universities after the Taliban also banned women from the workplace.
“It is my responsibility as both a feminist and an Afghan,” Ms Amanullah explains, “I want to assist the next generation of women so that they can rebuild our country.”
In February, she told trusted family and friends she would be giving lessons in Western subjects including mathematics and English for around 20 girls.
Each student is given a copy of the Quran at their desk in case the Taliban suddenly burst in so that she can pretend she is teaching Islamic studies, which is permitted. Lessons mirror those her students would have received this year if schooling had not been cancelled by the militant group, in the hope schools will again reopen and girls will be up to speed with the syllabus.
Despite earlier promises to reopen classrooms on March 23, the Taliban announced a last-minute U-turn.
So, one year on, secondary schooling for girls remains banned across Afghanistan, save a couple of northern provinces, including Balkh, where more moderate Taliban officials are in charge.
Out of 1.1million girls eligible for secondary schooling, 850,000 have been barred from their classrooms over the last year, according to Unicef.
Hidden, secret schools are slowly emerging to fill the gap. Given their clandestine nature, it is hard to monitor exact numbers but activists say there are up to 300, serving thousands of Afghan girls.
Although they only cater to a fraction of those who should be in school and are mainly in large cities like Kabul, activists say they are an important show of defiance.
“It shows a determination among many girls to educate themselves,” said Nicolette Waldman, a researcher with Amnesty International’s crisis response programme.
“One girl told me that even if going to school has become a crime, she was prepared to commit that crime. It is an incredible attitude and it gives me some hope for the future.”
Still, even if secondary schools are suddenly reopened for girls, new challenges have emerged.
The Taliban are likely to demand same-sex teachers and at least a third of Afghan districts do not have a female teacher, according to Enayat Nasir, the leader of an education non-profit organisation in Afghanistan.
A prior shortage has been exacerbated by many professionals quitting over a failure by the Taliban to pay salaries.
But, these previous hard-fought gains are what drive Afghanistan’s education activists on, despite the risks.
Women running secret schools have been detained and held in gruesome conditions, subject to electric shocks and denied food for weeks.
Others report the Taliban stripped them naked and threatened to release the photos if they attended another protest. At a protest in support of women’s education in April, Ms Amanullah was beaten so badly by a Kalashnikov-wielding Taliban official she had to travel to Pakistan for surgery. But, she refuses to halt her schools.
“It is my duty as an Afghan to be helping these children under these circumstances,” she said.
“Their parents don’t want to force a future on their children but they want them to have options.”