Mazda Mehregan: A poet’s fight against sexual violence in Afghanistan’s literary circles
Mazda Mehregan is a poet and social activist. In recent years, she began publicly sharing stories of sexual harassment, assault, exploitation, and the ways by which men make women feel indebted to them. Before the fall of Kabul the Taliban, Mazda was active in Afghanistan’s literary circles. She says that the men in many of those spaces called themselves poets or literary while exploiting their positions to lure women into harm under the guise of offering help, guidance, or recognition. Mazda describes how she left Kabul with psychological wounds and withdrew to Panjshir, where she avoided contact with anyone in the cultural community for three years. Today, she uses social media to tell stories of sexual abuse. Through these narratives, Mazda hopes to raise awareness among teenage girls and women and to confront those men who continue to treat women as sexual objects to be used and discarded. She is 26 years old, a mother of two, and currently lives in Germany.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Zan Times: Let me start here – Who is Mazda Mehregan?
Mazda Mehregan: I see myself as a poet, a mother, a student, and a social activist.
ZT: When did you first start paying attention to the harassment and abuse of women in Afghanistan’s literary circles? What made you decide to speak out?
Mehregan: I was 15 when I first got to know Afghanistan’s literary world. Back then, I had a sacred image of poetry and poets. I had just started using social media, and I wanted to read contemporary poetry from Afghanistan and Iran.
At that time, I followed a poet online. One day he sent me a message and it was very inappropriate and disrespectful. It really shook me because I was someone who loved poetry.
Later, I got to know various literary associations, and honestly, except for one or two reputable groups, everywhere I went I witnessed harassment, anti-woman behaviour, mocking of women, labeling. All of it was so common that it felt normal.
ZT: Were there specific incidents that led you to speak out more directly?
Mehregan: Yes. I can’t go into too much detail out of respect for the victims’ identities, but I know many women who were harmed by men in Afghanistan’s cultural spaces. Instead of creating art, they’re now left to deal with the scars of rape, assault, sexual blackmail, threats, and humiliation. They’ve been harmed socially. Many have been rejected and are living with a lot of pain.
ZT: How has the literary community responded to you speaking out?
Mehregan: Sometimes they ignore it and pretend nothing happened. Other times, they try to discredit me. One of the most common things they say is, “That woman’s poetry isn’t hers; some man writes it for her.” I’ve heard that a lot, especially since I started exposing things on social media. And because my husband is also a poet, it makes it easier for them to say that.
In some cases, they’ve insulted me directly. They’ve mocked me.
ZT: In your view, what drives this kind of violence and abuse by male poets?
Mehregan: A lot of male poets in Afghanistan live in a moral vacuum. They’ve let go of religious ethics but haven’t built any new ethical system in its place.
Zan Times: I wonder how much of your activism has been shaped by your own experiences or by the stories others have shared with you. Have these played a role in the kind of work you do today?
Mazda Mehregan: My personal experiences and the stories others have told me have influenced my activism. I’ll speak about them in more detail when the time is right. But what has always pushed me to write is the situation of girls inside Afghanistan. These abuses still happen, both in person and online. Some of the girls who’ve been harmed reach out to me. I just wish we didn’t have to worry about the safety of vulnerable people. If we didn’t, there’s so much more I could say.
ZT: What impact do you believe these stories of abuse and sexual violence can have on the lives of women?
Mehregan: I’ve written extensively about this, both in my own name and through other platforms. But I’ll share the core points here:
- Activism instead of passivity: this is one of the most important things women need in order to claim their rights.
- Shattering the mental comfort zones of abusers: confronting them with the truth.
- Building stronger solidarity among women.
- Helping the narrator or victim heal mentally: move beyond the role of just being a victim.
- Raising awareness for other survivors: encouraging them to speak up.
ZT: You’ve talked before about the need for women to find safe spaces and support each other. Do you want women to find safe, women-only spaces?
Mehregan: No. I don’t want women to need a special address just to feel safe. I want them to live in a world where their gender isn’t a reason to be harmed, where being a woman doesn’t mean being less or more than anyone else.
I want us to build a society where women who are aware of their rights can live alongside men who don’t hold misogynistic beliefs and who don’t see women as property or objects.
ZT: In your view, what are some practical ways to reduce sexual harassment and violence against women and teenage girls?
Mehregan: Storytelling. Creating online and in-person educational spaces. Speaking from personal experience. Building solidarity. Fostering deeper mutual understanding among women.
Zan Times: What do you think about the role of social media and independent media outlets in raising awareness about sexual violence and harassment?
Mazda Mehregan: Most media serve the system and the system is anti-woman. There are only a few outlets that honestly work to defend women’s rights and that also have the necessary awareness and literacy to do so. In general, I find the media more destructive than helpful.
ZT: Do you think poetry and literature can be tools for resistance against sexual violence?
Mehregan: In general, art helps push a society’s thinking forward. But most male poets in Afghanistan carry a misogynistic mindset and reproduce misogyny in their poetry. If poetry isn’t in service of patriarchal thinking, then yes, it can become a tool of resistance. In that case, stereotypes can be broken, the cycle of misogyny disrupted, feminine identity redefined, and more trust and solidarity can be created among people in society.
ZT: You once wrote that the power relationship makes men superior and women inferior, so that women are made to feel indebted and therefore unable to say no. Can you talk more about that?
Mehregan: In patriarchal societies, women are pushed to the margins. Half of society is sidelined because of their gender. Independent women are not nurtured. One of the biggest reasons women remain passive in the face of violence is financial dependence.
A woman who works and is financially independent becomes stronger over time. She grows. Financial independence gives women protection from many kinds of harm.
Let me put it this way: among the lowest classes in society is the working class. And lower than the working class is the female worker.
ZT: You also wrote about the link between indebtedness and sex — how men make women feel indebted to gain access to their bodies. Can you explain that?
Mehregan: I’ve heard these sentences many times from friends: “He was so good to me. I never expected he was after sex.” And what usually follows are sentences like: “When he tried to touch me, or said something sexual, I was in shock. I couldn’t say anything. I don’t know why.”
These sentences are all too familiar.
Women must learn to say no. And society must recognize the value of that no. No means no. Sexual harassment, assault, and rape must not be confused with or justified as consensual sex.
But why does a woman find herself in a position where saying no becomes difficult? It’s a hard question, and there isn’t a simple answer. Afghan women grow up with “man fear.” The father has authority and hits. The sister has to wash her brother’s socks, and if she doesn’t, she gets punished.
Male dominance is normalized in traditional, backward societies and casts its shadow over everything.
For example, a woman who works still has to take care of the house. But a man who is unemployed doesn’t contribute to housework. A working woman, even after years of living in the West, even when she earns more and has a higher social status than her husband, still feels she must hand over her money to him.
Even an educated working woman raised in a misogynistic environment might not feel entitled to say to her husband, “Right now I don’t want sex,” or “Now I do.”
All of this is rooted in a culture of repression that has become normal for women in patriarchal environments.
When a woman is in a situation where she needs to say no but doesn’t dare to, has she given the man consent? No. In those situations, when a man proceeds, it is harassment or assault.
There’s a long road ahead of us to reduce these “justified” assaults. What matters most is for women to understand the power of the word no.
That word matters for two reasons: first, it takes women out of passivity and turns them into agents. A woman who says no takes control of her body. Second, it leaves no room for men to justify their actions.
As for the process of “indebting,” it often begins right after a man hears a no, or after a woman shows discomfort.
A man might appear as the kind, safe person in your life. He’ll be patient with your anger, take you out for strolls, maybe even pay for a few meals. Sometimes, he’ll do much more — but all with the aim that you won’t say no when he wants access to your body.
In this setup, the woman feels indebted. After all the kindness she received — kindness she thought was genuine — when the assault happens, she can’t even criticize the man in her own mind. It can take years for her to understand what happened. For years, she may blame herself for accepting his help, his money, his patience.
If we want to reduce these normalized assaults, we must recognize and respect the word no. This applies to men, women, and queer people.
To the men: if the only way you can access someone’s body is by indebting them, then you are an abuser. A woman who went to a café with you, smiled with you, didn’t protest your words, hasn’t said yes. Consent only happens when a woman clearly and freely says she wants sex. Only then is it real.
