Laila Nouri

Being a woman in Afghanistan has always carried a different meaning; one of invisibility, unfamiliarity, and struggle. In a country where society limps toward an aristocratic future, the shadows of its darkest realities remain ignored.

God created humans, but humanity created gender. In Afghan society, being a woman has always been a challenge. Despite their relentless calls for justice, gender equality, and basic rights, women have fought tirelessly to make their presence felt. They make up half of society, the backbone of warm family homes, yet they are treated as if they belong to the margins of existence.

When I think of the struggle to be recognized as a girl in Afghan society, I am reminded of a scene from the film Nafas (Breath) by Narges Abyar (2015). In it, a father asks his children what they want to be when they grow up. His sons dream of becoming a baker and a doctor. But when it’s Fatima’s turn, she looks at her father with tearful eyes and says, "I want to be a boy in the future." That moment reflects an unsettling reality; sometimes, to attain the simplest freedoms, one must wish to be someone else.

That bare minimum freedom is echoed in the words of Iranian artist Shirvin Hajipour:

"For you, dancing in the alley,
For being afraid when kissing,
For my sister, your sister, our sisters,
For changing minds that have rotted,
For feeling peace,
For the sun after long nights,
For the girl who wished she was a boy,
For woman, life, freedom."

Or in the voice of a little Afghan girl who recites a poem on Instagram, her tone innocent yet haunting:

"I wish I were a boy,
I’d be the king of the street,
But since I’m a girl,
I’m worth a hundred dollars."

A host pats her head and reassures her, "Sweetheart, you’re worth more than a hundred dollars." But she looks at him in confusion, perhaps wondering what value he speaks of. In a country where women are deprived of even their most basic rights, what worth can be measured?

In Afghanistan, women have a paradoxical kind of freedom, they are free to thirst for everything. I once heard a beautiful saying:

"God created the delicate yet graceful existence of women from His own laughter. He made them the pinnacle of creation and strengthened the warmth of families through their presence."

Yet, in this patriarchal society, women are seen as less than human, placed at the lowest level, regarded as weak and inferior.

My story is the story of girls living in a world without destiny. It is the story of grieving mothers who remain unseen, of women forever pushed from one margin to another. In 2025, March 8th in Afghanistan is not a day to celebrate women’s achievements, it is a day to renew our strength, to continue the fight against oppression, tyranny, injustice, and gender discrimination.

We, the daughters of the decade of freedom, celebrated March 8th, 2025, as it should be celebrated. We stood hand in hand, strong as mountains, flowing like rivers, until we reached the shores of freedom. In unveiling the new role of women in Afghan society, we are not pushing men to the margins; we are planting the seeds of humanity in a society that has forgotten its humanity.

Even in the heart of darkness, there is always a light of hope.
Afghan women, despite all their pain and suffering, still dream of a better future.
They know the road is long, but every step forward brings them closer to justice and freedom.
And so, the seeds of change slowly sprout, building the foundations of a new society.

About the Author:
Laila Noori is a writer who transforms personal struggles into powerful narratives, drawing inspiration from the challenges she faces as a girl. Writing for nearly three years in both Persian and English, she specializes in essays and storytelling, publishing on Shisha Media. Her work explores overlooked societal truths, focusing on injustice, gender discrimination, and the silent struggles. Through her words, Laila aims to expose inequalities, foster solidarity, and inspire social responsibility.