I was born in 1987, two years before Afghanistan got engulfed in the flames of a fierce war between the Soviet-backed government led by President Najibullah Ahmadzai and the Mujahideen and the ensuing and rather devastating civil war that broke out among the many factions of the Mujahideen in 1992, which yielded to the birth of the Taliban in 1994. I grew up in the shadow of a violent conflict, so my early years intertwined with the strife that meant missed schooling and illiteracy for me and millions of other children. By the time the Taliban seized power in 1996, I was just eight years old, in the second grade, and had already known more chaos than many people experience in a lifetime. Little did I know more significant challenges were yet to come.
When the Taliban seized power in 1996, my family was forced to relocate from Kabul to Ghazni. Though our new home brought its own share of difficulties, none were more devastating than watching my two sisters getting denied their right to an education. The Taliban’s decision to bar girls from attending school stunned me. How could something as vital as education be stripped from my sisters and millions like them while I was allowed to continue? This injustice lingered in my heart, spurring me to take action. So, I became their teacher, sharing my books and helping with their lessons, our small, makeshift classroom born out of necessity and love. That moment kindled a fire within me—a passion for education that would shape my destiny.
In 2004, after graduating high school, I began my teaching journey. By 2007, when I entered Kabul Education University to pursue my Bachelor of Arts in English Language and Literature, I had already founded the Payam Kateb Educational Center (AKA Kateb English House), an Accelerated Learning Center in Kabul for girls who, like my sisters, were denied their right to education under the Taliban. Despite those disadvantaged circumstances, these young women carried immense hope and determination that inspired me deeply. Therefore, my role as an educator became a mission to ensure access to education for all, regardless of any social markers. Over the past 15+ years, from founding Kateb to working in different policy positions at USAID and UNESCO, I have fiercely and fearlessly pursued and stretched this mission to the Taliban’s motherland in Kandahar and their stronghold in Urozgan and Helmand and the Haqqanis’ birthplace in Eastern Nangarhar, while simultaneously continued to educate myself to delve into the nuances of the field up until where I stand now as a Ph.D. candidate in Education Policy at Arizona State University. Not to mention the time I volunteered for the Afghan Girls Financial Assistance Fund (AGFAF), where I led the establishment and operations of six libraries across Afghanistan that primarily served girls and women.
However, my path has never been easy. As a Hazara, I faced ethnic prejudice that almost matched the barriers girls and women encountered in my country. These experiences only deepened my empathy for those fighting for their right to learn and fueled my resolve to champion equality and opportunity.
When the Taliban reinstated their ban on women’s education in Afghanistan for the second time in 2021, I knew I had to act. Although I continued to volunteer my time at AGFAF and worked with a dozen other students on an individual basis, I always thought it was too little compared to the enormous need. I, therefore, established the Alekain Foundation, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization dedicated to defying the Taliban’s ban on education for women and girls in Afghanistan. The name Alekain comes from the Farsi/Dari word for an oil-based lamp, which is still used today to illuminate homes in rural Afghanistan; and my coterie at the Foundation, it symbolizes more than just light in the darkness; it represents education as a beacon of hope that guides individuals and communities toward a brighter, more prosperous future. My determination to make a difference in the face of adversity is a testament to the power of one person’s actions.
Through Alekain, our goal is not only to resist the Taliban’s attempt to darken the lives of women and girls in Afghanistan but also to nurture bright minds that will shape the future of my country. Education is not just a means of learning, but a powerful tool for empowerment. By supporting these future leaders, we aim to light the way for generations to come. This mission would not be possible without the unwavering support of friends of Afghanistan and a collective of like-minded individuals who share our vision: to defy the Taliban ban on the education of girls and women.
