Afghanistan: “I Have Learned to Never Give Up”
What helps me keep going is my belief in our mission to empower women journalists to report on what is happening under the Taleban.
I really miss Kabul. From Aref Shahid middle school to Iqra bookstore, from the Babur gardens to Razawi bakery and its Zaffron ice-creams - Kabul was the first city that I truly felt was mine.
I spent part of my childhood in Iran, where we fled the Taleban takeover when I was six years old. There, as an Afghan refugee I was subjected to racial slurs, cursed in the street, denied the right to education. I was humiliated and made to feel that I was unworthy of respect because of my country of origin. Some nights, I wished for a miracle that would turn me into an Iranian. But I learned miracles don't exist.
My life changed when I returned to Kabul in 2003. On the dusty streets of Kabul, I always held my head up with pride, for having a claim on the soil I was walking on. I was never afraid to speak up in Afghanistan, because this country belonged to me as much as it belonged to anyone else. It was in Afghanistan that I found my worth as a human being and learned to be an active player in the future I had imagined for myself and for my country. That gave me the confidence I needed to fight back.
"It was in Afghanistan that I found my worth as a human being."
And you can only imagine how many fights I had at home, at school, at university and in my workplaces. I learned to have a right, to have a voice, I must fight for my rights.
It started by trying to prove that my sex and gender had nothing to do with my ability as a human to perform and participate in society. I wanted to prove to that being born female had no connection to what I could achieve professionally. I wanted to be treated equally and enjoy all the privileges my brothers, male relatives, colleagues and friends enjoyed. And of course, it wasn’t easy to challenge the accepted gender norms.
A passion for writing and journalism was my way to prove myself. In high school, this helped me land an internship at a newsweekly in 2010. In 2016, when I joined The New York Times bureau in Kabul, I became the first Afghan woman to work for a major English-language news outlet in the country.
But in 2017, I made a difficult choice to leave Afghanistan. The security situation was getting worse and I had a school age son. I moved to Canada to give my son the childhood I had been denied. I completed a master’s degree in communications and culture and a diploma in Asian studies. By 2021, I was a second-year PhD student at York University in Canada, dreaming of becoming a professor at Kabul University’s Department of Gender and Women’s Studies. I wanted to write the history of women in Afghanistan. Perhaps, for the first time I was comfortable in my life, living in peace and doing what I loved.
But then, August 2021 came and everything changed.
On a personal level, I was a mess. My family, my colleagues, my friends, and my future were in Afghanistan, and with the Taleban takeover I felt I had lost everything. As an Afghan woman who had a right to education and became a journalist in Afghanistan, I felt a sense of responsibility to support women report about their lives under the Taleban.
In 2022 I decided to join forces with a group of women journalists and establish Zan Times, an Afghan women-led media in exile. Our goal was to report on human rights violations in Afghanistan with a focus on women and the LGBTQI+ community. Until this point, I had only worked as a journalist and editor who had never managed a team before and had zero knowledge of fundraising.
I used my meagre student savings to pay for the basic necessities to start our work, such as the website and salaries of our team in Afghanistan. Most of our exiled team were volunteers.
When we started, there were times when I would wake up at 2am, worrying what would happen if God forbid one of my colleagues were arrested by the Taleban.
"Our team continues to shine a light on the human rights abuses and struggles faced by Afghan women."
“It’s on me,” I would tell myself out loud and then, my heart would beat faster and I would feel sick to my stomach. I used to wake up with nausea, experiencing intense anxiety and panic attacks.
What helped me get through those days was my belief in our mission to support women journalists in Afghanistan and empower them to report on what is happening under the Taleban. If I was still a woman journalist in Afghanistan, I would have needed this help to continue my work and to support my family.
That is what gives me hope to continue spotlighting the situation in Afghanistan, hoping that each story contributes to documenting and exposing the Taliban’s gender apartheid. Amidst the Taliban's oppressive policies targeting women and LGBTQI individuals, Zan Times journalists have fearlessly stepped forward to document and amplify the voices of the most marginalised. Despite operating in an environment fraught with danger, where speaking out can lead to severe repercussions especially for women, our team continues to shine a light on the human rights abuses and struggles faced by Afghan women and minorities.
What sets Zan Times apart is not just its reporting, but the innovative and adaptive methods it employs to circumvent censorship and safeguard its journalists. Many of our team members, predominantly women, work under pen names and operate remotely, navigating a landscape of constant trauma, fear, and uncertainty with both resilience and determination.
Zan Times distinguishes itself by covering underreported issues and conducting groundbreaking investigations, driven by a team of professional journalists both in Afghanistan and in exile. It serves as a vital lifeline for those whose stories would otherwise go untold, like LGBTQI individuals. My colleagues not only report on human rights violations in Afghanistan, they are agents of change, challenging societal norms and advocating for a more inclusive and just future for all, regardless of their identity and background.
Throughout my experience from a child refugee in Iran to leading a newsroom that works for human rights, I have learned not to give up on what I believe in and what I want to build to change and transform my society. Journalism and writing is my way of fighting for equality and justice in Afghanistan.
Zahra Nader is the founder and editor-in-chief of Zan Times. She started her career as a journalist in 2011 in Kabul and joined the New York Times bureau in 2016. She has been bylined in publications ranging from Time and Foreign Policy to the Guardian and DW.