Fayezah Mohammadi

The word "زن" (woman) in Persian is made up of two letters: "ز," which signifies life, and "ن," which represents a blessing. This beautiful and delicate being is, first and foremost, a wife, a mother, a sister, and a daughter.

A mother selflessly serves her children, sacrifices her own hunger for their fullness, and uses her own warmth to protect them from the cold. She offers her heart to a child who often brings her nothing but ingratitude.

A woman is a wife, one who, in my country, is expected to enter her husband's home in a white dress and leave in a white shroud. When she takes on the title of a wife, she is expected to give up everything, to sacrifice herself for her husband and children. Being a wife here means living like a servant, forsaking all dreams and desires, dedicating her life to her family, lest she be labeled unworthy.

A woman is a sister who must endure not only her father's strictness but also her brothers' protectiveness, ensuring she never steps out of line and obeys their commands. She is a daughter with rosy dreams and colorful fantasies, with long wings to fly. She sees the world in vibrant hues, and her biggest dream is to wear a doll-like dress, high heels, colorful nail polish, and let her long hair flow.

But why are we, Afghan girls and women, deprived of these things? Why are we seen as worthless objects in this society?

A mother devotes her life to raising her children, forgetting day and night, graying her hair with worry, yet why is she not valued? A mother who, if she makes a single mistake, is harshly judged. In this society, a mother must endure all hardships and cruelty for her children's sake, never standing up to injustice for fear of losing her children, her husband, and her home.

In the courts of this country, no one considers how difficult it is for a mother to raise a child. Her efforts are disregarded, and since the law favors men, she loses everything she protected if she dares to resist injustice. If her husband dies, she is left to beg to raise her children, as no family or community supports her. Yet, if she wishes to remarry, countless so-called guardians appear to take her children away and make her life miserable.

When a woman loses her husband or divorces, many see her as prey, others as a home-wrecker. But what about the woman who never cheated in her marriage, who protected her husband and home with all her heart?

This woman, who is a wife, must not raise her voice against her husband's words and actions. She endures violence, emotional, psychological, or physical and must bear it all. Yes, this is my land, where a woman, upon marriage, does not become a wife but a servant, with no right to defend herself. She must tolerate her husband's second or third marriage, be content with her situation because she has nowhere to go and no one to support her. When she is beaten, she must accept it because she has been made to believe she has no rights.

This beautiful being is a sister whose life is dictated by her father and brothers, who impose their will on her. These brothers, who inherit only a sense of control, become iron walls against their sister’s dreams. This sister carries only the title, without receiving the love and kindness of her brothers.

In this society, men are taught that a woman is merely land for cultivation, a servant for service. They forget that she is a blessing, a mother with her lullabies, a wife with boundless love, a sister with sisterly affection, and a daughter with floral dresses, high heels, colorful nail polish, and untouched, beautiful long hair, whose dreams are painted in vibrant colors.

The daughters of this land ask for nothing more than a little color to brighten their world, a bit of freedom, love, and attention to illuminate life with joy. These girls need companionship. People ask why girls should talk to unrelated men, why they should have friendships. I say: because they need a support system, a pillar called father, whose duty is not just fatherhood, and a friend called brother, whose duty is not just brotherhood.

Why is it that when a girl and a boy become friends, only the girl bears the blame for any consequences? Why is it that in a romantic relationship, it is always the girl's emotions that are played with?

In Afghan society, a girl's value is measured only by her virginity, her quiet voice, and her silence in the face of oppression. She cannot wear red nail polish, laugh out loud, dress in bright colors, or wear short clothes, because she will be labeled a bad woman.

This is my society, where a girl must imprison the child within her and clip her wings. No one considers that a woman seeks love and affection, not for physical reasons, as assumed by society, but for shoulders to cry on, for a little peace.

Women hide their loneliness and sorrow behind red lipstick, thin eyeliner, and colorful nail polish. Every morning, they put on a mask of indifference to face the world again. And they smile, to overcome their anxieties.

About the Author:
Fayezah Mohammadi is an Afghan writer who began writing a year ago, inspired by her country’s struggles and her love for storytelling. She writes poetry and real-life stories in Persian, exploring themes of sorrow, nostalgia, and the hardships of Afghan women. While her work is deeply personal, it also serves as a quiet act of resistance against oppression. She seeks opportunities to publish, collaborate, and grow as a writer, hoping to give voice to the unheard and create connections across cultures.