After the Taliban returned to power in 2021, Afghan women were among the first to take to the streets in protest demanding the right to work and education. Hamasa, who uses this name as a pseudonym for her safety, was one of them. A former government employee and gender officer with nearly two decades of experience, she joined some of the earliest demonstrations in Kabul despite being pregnant at the time. During one protest, Taliban fighters beat her so severely that she lost her unborn child. Since then, she has endured threats, arrest, and months of displacement inside Afghanistan, moving from house to house while secretly teaching girls who were banned from school.
In this interview with Zan Times, Hamasa recounts her journey from protesting in Kabul’s streets to hiding in villages, and ultimately fleeing Afghanistan while remaining committed to resisting the Taliban. It has been edited for length and style.
Zan Times: May I ask you to introduce yourself.
Hamasa: I am a protesting woman and a mother. I worked for 18 years in a ministry as a professional staff member and gender officer. I hold a bachelor’s degree in natural sciences from Kabul University of Education, and I had completed three semesters of a master’s program before universities were closed to women. I also worked for two years at Radio Solh–Jabal al-Saraj as a presenter and instructor for an educational English-language program.
One of the achievements I am most proud of is teaching literacy to 60 women. I personally taught them how to read and write.
ZT: Where were you on the day Kabul fell, and were you already thinking about street protests from that day?
Hamasa: That day I was at work, and like every other woman in the office, I was completely taken by surprise. My thoughts immediately went to the women who were the heads of their households — women who were widows and had no male breadwinner. I kept thinking about what would happen to them. How would they pay their rent?
Like everyone else, I was terrified.
ZT: When did you become a protester, and what first awakened this sense of protest in you?
Hamasa: I was in the fifth grade when we migrated to Pakistan during the first Taliban regime. At that time, I gave an interview to the BBC and spoke as a school student, expressing my concern about the Taliban’s arrival and the closing of schools. That moment from my childhood always stayed with me. From that time, I found myself opposing the closure of schools.
When the Taliban returned to power for the second time in 2021, engineer Noria Haqnigar called me and informed me about the protests. Unfortunately, when I reached the place where women were protesting for the first time against the Taliban, the Taliban had already crushed the protest and dispersed the lines of women.
From my childhood I understood how devastating the Taliban’s return could be for women. Many girls my age and my classmates had been harmed and left illiterate during the first Taliban regime. I knew that the same tragedy would be repeated this time. That is why I joined the protest on the second day.
On September 4,Engineer Noria Haqnigar told me to wear sneakers so I could walk side-by-side with the other girls, because I was pregnant. I bought a pair of sneakers so that I could run or walk more easily.
ZT: Tell us about the protest on September 4, 2021.
Hamasa: That day the Taliban surrounded us near the fountain and behaved brutally. We were chanting that we wanted education and the right to work when they began beating us with electric batons. They fired tear gas. They struck Narges Saadat with the butt of a rifle; her head plit open and started bleeding. The girls scattered.
In the chaos, I was pregnant and all my attention was on my stomach. A Taliban soldier struck my shoulder with the butt of his rifle and I fell. I screamed that I was pregnant and begged them not to hit me, but he kicked me in the back. Another protesting woman helped me get up. When they fired tear gas, I had a severe reaction. I was in very bad condition and, running with great difficulty, I managed to reach the Ministry of Communications. From there I took a taxi and went to my cousin’s house.
A doctor was called to examine me, and they told me that the baby was dead.
ZT: So a Taliban fighter caused you to lose your child?
Hamasa: Honestly, because of that incident, I still cannot forgive myself. I wanted to have a daughter, but the Taliban took my daughter from me. After that, I kept dreaming that two small hands were reaching toward me, saying, “Mother, help me.” I was nearly four months pregnant and had so much hope that I would bring the baby into the world, but they took that from me.
ZT: After this happened, you must have become even angrier and intensified your protests?
Hamasa: Yes, I have been angry ever since that day. I joined groups of protesting girls. Together, we formed the Afghanistan Women’s Unity and Solidarity team during those same days. For nearly four years I participated in protests and meetings, saying that the women of Afghanistan must not remain silent in the face of the Taliban.
ZT: Were you ever arrested?
Hamasa: Yes. On August 20, 2023, they arrested me along with five other protesting women in the Khair Khana area. That night we had gathered for what was both a friendly meeting and a form of protest when they entered the courtyard. They beat us with the butts of their rifles. Each of us kept saying that we were only there for a gathering, but they arrested us anyway.
They put a black hood over my head and took all of us to an unknown place. One person said it was a police district, another said we had been taken to the Kabul governor’s office. I was imprisoned there for one night and one day. After that, they released me near the Payin-Foroshgah area.
ZT: You must have been threatened even before that.
Hamasa: Yes. In January 2022, after the first group of protesting women had been arrested, they also came to our house. We were living in Kabul’s District 10. When I heard the sound of their Ranger vehicle, I quickly left the house and ran into a neighbour’s home while they went inside and confronted the men in our family.
My neighbours were a kind family. They found a burqa for me and gave me comfortable shoes so I could escape. That day my feet were injured, but I walked until I reached Sarai Shomali. From there I climbed into the back of a truck heading toward Kapisa to the house of one of my relatives. I had no money and kept apologizing to the driver, asking him to take me there. The driver complained that women climb into trucks like this and then do not even pay the fare.
ZT: How did the Taliban treat the men in your family that day?
Hamasa: That day they gave a warning and left. But in late 2023, Taliban intelligence summoned my father-in-law for questioning and surveillance. For several days he had to go and give statements. Eventually, with guarantees from local people, he managed to free himself from Taliban intelligence.
ZT: Tell us about what happened after you travelled in the back of that truck toward Kapisa.
Hamasa: Yes, that day I reached the house of one of my relatives in Kapisa. I stayed there for nine months. During that time, I started a small class in their tandoor room and taught mathematics and English to girls who had been deprived of school.
During those nine months of teaching, when the girls came to the class, all of us felt better. The girls told me they had stopped thinking about suicide. Coming to my class — which was held in a dark, blackened room with only a white board — gave them hope.
The Taliban searched that house several times. Even though those relatives were part of my husband’s extended family, they eventually apologized to me and asked me to leave their home. After that I went to Sayyid Khel and Jabal al-Saraj in Parwan province.
ZT: How long did you stay in Jabal al-Saraj?
Hamasa: I first went to Sayyid Khel and lived there for eight months. I moved back and forth between Jabal al-Saraj and Sayyid Khel. One of my former students had a house in Sayyid Khel, and I took refuge there. They were a poor family, but they gave me shelter.
During the day I did not even drink water so that I would not need to leave the room to go to the bathroom. I ate only one meal in 24 hours. I became sick there and developed kidney pain. My student thought I had become weak, so she brought a piece of dried meat and cooked soup for me. But the meat was infested with worms, and after eating it my condition became very bad.
After that I left and, despite being ill, managed to reach my brother’s house in Kabul.
ZT: During the time you were moving from place to place in the provinces, where were your son and your husband?
Hamasa: My son was with my mother-in-law, and my husband, like me, had become displaced and was moving between the homes of relatives.
ZT: Were the Taliban pursuing you again when you returned to Kabul?
Hamasa: Yes, I was still being pursued in Kabul. In December 2024, I received a phone call. When I answered, the person on the line said, “Wretch! Say goodbye to your life. You won’t be able to deceive us this time.”
I was near Mariam High School when I immediately removed the SIM card and threw it away. I also handed my phone to a shopkeeper. From Mariam High School I went toward Darul Aman and called my husband. Soon after, with the help and coordination of friends who had already left the country, we obtained visas for Pakistan. On January 6, 2025, we arrived in Pakistan. We stayed there for three months and then sought asylum in the Netherlands.
ZT: Were you connected with any male political movements?
Hamasa: No, not at all. I had no connection with any male-led movements.
ZT: Why did the Taliban take your protests so seriously?
Hamasa: Because the Taliban are afraid of aware and protesting women.
ZT: How long will you continue your struggle?
Hamasa: Until freedom — and for as long as I am alive, I will remain in this struggle. The pain of losing the child I believed was my daughter will never leave me. I am a protesting woman, and my only wish was to have a brave daughter. Sometimes I feel that in this cruel world, my daughter has left me alone.
