For International Women’s Day on March 8, Zan Times is publishing eight narratives of eight women activists who defied the Taliban. Telling their stories humanizes the struggles of so many women against the Taliban’s misogynist regime and also records their bravery in the face of imprisonment and torture chambers. (Note: names have been changed to protect their identities.)
Roqia Saee
Our protests were always met with insults, arrests, repression, and torture. I was arrested twice. The first time was on December 22, 2022. We organized a protest after the Taliban banned women from going to university and work. We wanted to hold the demonstration in front of Kabul University, where we had previously demonstrated against the expulsion of female students from that institution, but the Taliban severely suppressed it from the start.
So we changed the location of the protest and started our march from Dehburi intersection. That’s where some of the girls were arrested. They were first taken to a police station and then apparently released. But when I wanted to leave Dehburi intersection, the Taliban stopped the taxi I was in and took me down. They searched my mobile phone and bag and found out that I am a member of several activist WhatsApp groups and saw many photos and videos of our previous protests.
When I was detained, my first thoughts were about my children and what would happen to them. That’s when a Talib slapped me and then forced me into the Ranger [pickup truck]. When I resisted, I was beaten more. They put a black bag over my head and tightly tied my hands. I had a terrible feeling – I didn’t understand what fate awaited me – but, more than anything, I was worried about my children and my reputation.
They took me to Kabul Police District 3. It was there that they asked about how much money I received, who I am working for, and who was giving me orders. I answered that I am not working for anyone and I had not received any money from anyone. I said that I had borrowed 500 afghani from a neighbour so that I could come and protest as a woman and a citizen and say that the Taliban have no right to deprive women from university and work. I said, “You made thousands of women widows and thousands of children orphans, and I am one of them. I have two children and if I don’t have permission to work, we will starve to death.” In response they insulted me and beat me.
After a few hours, they put a black bag on my head and moved me to another place. There, they repeated the same questions, insults, humiliation, and mental and physical torture. I still have nightmares.
Four days passed as if they were four years. I thought of my children every second, worrying about what happened to them, what they ate, and where they went? Every time I went to the demonstration, I thought that I might not come back alive, and I hugged my children tightly and cried my heart out. When my children asked where I was going and when I would be back, I didn’t know what to say, and I would hug them and say, I’m going to see my friends to talk, but I’ll call you and try to get back to you sooner.
Every time I was interrogated, they asked about who gave us orders and how much money we received. I kept answering that our protests were spontaneous, and no protesting woman has received any money from anyone. Our protests are not related to any political party. Women just want justice – we are half of society and the Taliban cannot eliminate them. These women were not the women of 20 years ago. Naturally, my answers were not pleasing to them and caused them to continue to torture me.
My father came, along with elders from the community. They guaranteed that I would not participate in any protest and would not say anything against the Taliban. They let me go. When I got home, my children were not well. My son had faded from crying and sadness. They looked weak, thin, and terrified. They threw themselves into my arms and followed me everywhere, even when I went to the bathroom. My parents looked older and more depressed. During my detention, my mother’s blood pressure increased several times and was hospitalized.
After my release, I remained silent for a while, but the plight of girls and women and the crimes against them would not leave me. I once again decided to go to the streets and shout for freedom and justice. I hugged my children and left the house, but then I returned to kiss and hug them again. I cried, thinking of what would happen to these innocent children if something happened to me.
I called my sister to say that I am going to the demonstration and she should care for the children. I had a terrible feeling. When I picked up the loudspeaker, I remembered the torture, the dark prison, and the terrible nights of my previous arrest. But I said to myself, “If I keep silent today, and if I accept defeat, I will lose and the people of Afghanistan will lose.” I encouraged myself to shout louder for freedom and justice. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side, and I was arrested again. I was imprisoned for 24 hours, tortured, and was to be transferred to the Directorate of Intelligence. I though I might not come out alive as I’d previously promised not to participate in protests.
I was set free with the intervention of my family and the elders of Dasht-e-barchi, as well as many guarantees and excuses. They had my home address, contact number, and my father’s identification cards, and those of the people who vouched for me. Although silence was painful for me, I chose it after seeing the tears of my children, the worry of my mother, and learning that my father had been slapped. I thought of suicide several times, but gave up when I looked at my children. So I suffer.
Roqia Saee is 29 years old women’s right activist.
