By Zahra Joya
This story was published in partnership with Rukhshana Media and The Fuller Project.
When the Taliban imposed a ban on women studying nursing and midwifery last week, they shut down the last remaining avenue for them to train for a profession. Many of the young women now barred from their classrooms had switched from other subjects, seeing this as their only opportunity to remain in school.
In western Afghanistan’s Herat province, one group protested in front of a government building carrying placards and chanting slogans like “education is our right” and “seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave”. Female students at a medical institute in the northeastern province of Badakhshan protested by singing – another proscribed activity for women in Afghanistan.
The move also has dire implications for maternal and infant health in Afghanistan, which already has one of the world’s highest rates of maternal mortality. Men are prohibited from treating women unless one of their male relatives is present, and a shortage of female healthcare workers means many pregnant women already don’t get prenatal check-ups.
Responding to the latest ban, UNICEF’s Executive Director Catherine Russell said preventing women from studying at healthcare institutes would “not only further limit the ability of women to contribute to society and earn an income but would also have far-reaching consequences for the health of the entire Afghan population. Lives would be lost.”
We spoke to three female students in the capital Kabul and in Badakhshan about what the move means for them, and for Afghan women. Their names have been changed for their protection.
Lima, 26, Kabul:
When the Taliban came in, I was in the third year of my English Literature degree at Kabul University. I had always thought that after graduating, I would go on to study midwifery and help pregnant women. But under the Taliban, I had no other choice, I couldn’t finish my degree so I enrolled in the health institute.
My plan was to work in a hospital when I finished. The first year [of a three-year course] was entirely theoretical, but from the second year, we had practical training. Every second week we went to hospitals for practical work and many women’s lives were saved with our limited help. One day this summer, when the obstetrician at the hospital where we were training was on leave, a 45-year-old pregnant woman came in who was bleeding heavily and in great pain. If our hospital had not accepted her, she would have had to go to another hospital. Her condition was critical, and if she had been sent elsewhere, she might not have survived the journey. My classmates and I did what we could, and thankfully we were able to save her and her baby.
This ban, and all the other bans, mean one thing to me and my fellow women: that the Taliban are seeking to completely eliminate women from society. The Taliban cannot tolerate the presence of women outside their homes.
Roya, 23, Badakhshan:
“When I entered the institute on Monday morning, the atmosphere was utterly terrifying. It was strange and frightening. I walked faster and approached my classmates to ask what was happening. One of the girls, visibly upset and distressed, said, ‘It’s closed. The Taliban have shut this place down too.’
I had already experienced the same when I was a third-year agriculture student. The Taliban closed the universities to us and these health institutes were the last hope. Now, even that hope has been destroyed.
After the universities were closed, my mental health deteriorated significantly. When I found out that health institutes were still open, I became hopeful again and decided to resume studying. My mother and other family members encouraged me to join this institute, hoping it would help me recover from my poor mental state.
During these three semesters, we worked in hospitals, assisting women and doctors during childbirth. It’s such a natural and fundamental part of society—medical care is a basic necessity. Yet here we are, denied even this right.
Lateefa, 24, Badakhshan:
The Taliban have always had a problem with women. They do not see us as humans and have always viewed us through a sexualized lens. The day they closed the health institutes, they shattered the hopes of Afghan women and girls for the thousandth time. These bans feel like an insult and a form of humiliation. It’s deeply shameful and horrifying that the Taliban see women only as tools for their sexual needs—nothing more.
Since the Taliban announced this decree, I haven’t stopped crying. My mother and the rest of my family are just as worried as I am. I was in my final year of university, studying journalism when they shut that down. Despite all my sadness, I sought refuge in this institute. Now they’ve closed this too. All I can think about now is leaving this country. I hope to find a way to migrate and escape. As women, we’ve never seen a day of happiness in this country. This cursed, anti-woman group won’t rest until they bury us alive.
