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No documents, no education: Afghan girls in Iran

Recently during a first-class class, the Iranian principal in a Tehran school summoned all Afghan students to the office. For students whose documentation was incomplete, she instructed them to visit the Department of Education to resolve those issues. Then, she issued a warning: they would not be allowed back into school until their documents were corrected. The Afghan students exchanged worried glances. It was midterm exam season and they knew that days of chasing paperwork would set them back in their studies and exams. When they left school, they didn’t realize that some would never return. Out of 10 Afghan ninth grade students at this school, four have been expelled due to paperwork issues. 

‘You Stand on My Land’

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One Afghan student who had to fix her documentation is a ninth grade student named Soraya. She  and her family migrated to Iran six years ago and settled in a village near Tehran. A year later, Soraya got permission to enrol in school, where she’s been for the past four years. It hasn’t been easy. “In the early years, we were constantly insulted, cursed at, and even beaten by them,” Soraya recounts. “But this year, we sat down and talked with them. They finally realized that there’s no difference between us and them — we’re all human. The kids’ bad behaviour toward us stemmed from the misguided beliefs of people like our principal, who has always been prejudiced against us.”

When she went to the Department of Education, an official informed her that her problems stemmed from incomplete paperwork for her mother. Soraya and her mother followed the officer’s advice and paid two million tomans to renew her mother’s passport at the Afghan Embassy. When they returned with the up-to-date passport, they were informed that the Department of Education considered it a tourist passport – it was not acceptable. 

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over Soraya’s head. “If we had known this tourist passport was useless, we wouldn’t have wasted two million tomans. To get a residency passport, we either have to pay 120 million tomans to brokers for a five-year passport or my mother has to return to Afghanistan and go through the interview and visa process. That alone costs at least 60 or 70million tomans, which we simply cannot afford. Even if we manage to gather the money and my mother goes, there’s no guarantee she’ll be able to return, at least not for a long time. My aunt, grandfather, and grandmother went to Afghanistan two years ago to get residency passports and haven’t returned yet — my grandfather even passed away there,” Soraya tells Zan Times. 

According to Soraya, the principal seemed pleased about the expulsion of her and other Afghan students. For years, her discriminatory behaviour had made Soraya despise the learning environment. “Whenever a debate arose over racist remarks, the principal would always blame us and treat us poorly. Twice, she even made me sign a commitment letter, saying, ‘You stand on my land; even the clothes you wear belong to me. How dare you argue with Iranian students?’ I endured those three years only because education was important to me and I had a clear goal. Alongside school, I attended private art and painting classes. Now, just when I had finally made peace with my classmates and could sit beside them without worry, the Iranian authorities’ discriminatory laws disrupted our peace and led to our expulsion.”

For Soraya, studying was also a reason for her family to stay in Iran. Now that she has been barred from continuing her education, she worries that her family might decide to return to Afghanistan. “I prefer to stay in Iran; here, the chance of going to school is higher than in Afghanistan. Even if school doesn’t work out, at least I can pursue my passion and goal—painting—in private classes.”

The ruler and the ruled

One of Soraya’s classmates, Farshteh, also had to fix her documentation issues at the Department of Education: “The official there didn’t let us speak. We could truly feel the dynamic of ruler and ruled. That’s why I have this rigid, cold image of that person in my mind — someone who could, for any reason, make me stay home, too.” 

In the end, Farshteh was able to complete her documentation and return to school. But she misses Soraya’s presence in school: “The whole class and even the teachers are upset about what happened and constantly ask me about Soraya’s situation. Soraya had built a really good relationship with everyone this year, and because she’s so playful and full of energy, her absence has left our class quiet and empty.”

Farshteh updates her friend on the lessons so Soraya won’t fall behind in her lessons. That effort is helped because recently, schools have been operating online due to pollution and power shortages, meaning that Soraya can keep up with lessons via the school’s online platform. 

A hollow display

In early 1994, the Islamic Republic of Iran joined the International Convention on the Rights of the Child, a treaty that stipulates no child should face discrimination or be deprived of education, growth, or life. Yet, in Iran, minority children have continuously suffered from discrimination through the enrollment guidelines for foreign students. Its second chapter details the admission of Afghan students in Iranian schools, which depends on registering their identity information in the Sahma system. To register in this system, children must have valid residency permits and a unique 10-digit code, which is difficult to obtain by Afghans. Even migrants who have managed to obtain those 10-digit codes find that they don’t always work properly, thus preventing their children from attending schools. 

In addition, the Ministry of Education issued guidelines that schools in designated areas where foreign nationals are allowed to reside can allocate only 20 percent of their capacity to Afghan students, whether they have valid residency documents or not.

No hope, but I won’t accept it

One of those expelled from school due to her family’s incomplete documentation is Monas, who is in the eighth grade. She feels lost. For Monas, who moved to Iran with her family four years ago, school was a path to freedom and independence. Now, all that vanished into thin air. 

“In Iran, my only solace was studying, but now they’ve taken that away too. If the Taliban leave, I’ll definitely return to Afghanistan. But as long as they’re in power, I’d rather stay in Iran — I don’t want to witness the oppression of women and children in Afghanistan up close,” she tells Zan Times. To fix their documentation problems, Monas’s parents need to return to Afghanistan to reapply for passports and visas, a process that will cost around 150 to 170 million tomans. 

She feels hurt by the indifference of her school’s principal and officials in Iran regarding her expulsion: “After they told me I couldn’t return to school until my documents were complete, I had a science exam. I went to school just to take the test so I wouldn’t fall behind in case things got resolved. But the principal spoke to me so harshly. She stood in front of the classroom door to make sure I wouldn’t enter. It was as if she no longer saw or heard me. I don’t want to stand in front of these people for even a moment, begging them to let me study.”

Only the air is on our side

Another Afghan girl no longer able to attend school is Sarah, who was born in Iran but doesn’t have a passport and so has no clear path back to school. “I’ve been going to school all these years with an educational support letter, but now they say that since I don’t have census registration, a passport, or a smart card, that letter is no longer valid,” she explains. “Years ago, my father went to get the census registration, but the Department of Education official told him that the support letter was enough. Now, the same official says there’s nothing he can do; the relevant sites are shut down.”

Sara’s father has said he can’t afford the costs of traveling to Afghanistan to get the needed documents. If it comes to that, he plans to take the entire family with him, and they won’t return to Iran .

The Leader’s decree

Zahra is a mentor at an NGO that supports out-of-school children in Soraya’s area. The day after Soraya was denied re-entry to her school, Zahra and Soraya went to the Department of Education. Zahra wanted to investigate the expulsions, which go against a 2015 decree by the Supreme Leader of Iran that states, “No Afghan child, even those residing illegally and without documentation, should be deprived of education. All must be enrolled in Iranian schools.”

Zahra told an official that Soraya’s expulsion goes against this decree. The employee responded, “First, your presence in Iran with these documents is illegal, and you should go back to your country. So don’t talk to me about the Leader’s decree. Second, this decree has been revoked, and the Ministry of Interior has ordered that foreigners without valid documents can no longer be enrolled.” When Soraya asked how she could have been enrolled in the first place and why she was charged tuition, the employee said it was a violation and said it should be refunded. 

When Soraya went to her school to collect her tuition refund, the principal said Soraya needed a letter from the provincial department. Even with that letter, she’ll only receive three-quarters of her tuition. 

Names have been changed to protect the identity of the interviewees and writer. Homa Majid is the pseudonym of a journalist in Iran.

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