Looks like you're in the UK! 🇬🇧

This is our US website. If you'd like to make a donation or sign-up for email updates please visit our UK website.

Stay in the US | Continue to the UK

Looks like you're in Germany! 🇩🇪

This is our US website. If you'd like to make a donation or sign-up for email updates please visit our Germany website.

Stay in the US | Continue to Germany

My Name Is Harir: I Dare To Keep Learning Despite Being Banned from Education 

My name is Harir, and want to become a doctor, not just for myself but for my Afghan sisters. Growing up in a family that struggled economically, I faced many challenges just to stay in school. There were times when we couldn’t afford school supplies, but my parents always made sure I attended my classes. My father would say, "My daughter will become a doctor." For a long time, I didn’t believe in myself the way he did.  

But then once I started seeing the results of my hard work and getting top marks in school, I began to believe in myself and gain confidence. I was more determined than ever to study to become a doctor. Little did I know how it all would soon change when the Taliban took control of my country in 2021.  

I’ll never forget the moment they closed the doors to our school - I stood there, frozen, for what felt like an eternity. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel anything. I walked back home in tears, hugged my mother, and cried with all my heart. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t give up. 

Since I couldn’t go to school, my sister, who is a year older than me, and I tried to enroll in midwifery course  - I was so desperate to learn that I lied about my age to be able to enroll. For two weeks, we studied, full of hope and excitement. We even bought white dresses, dreaming of our future as healthcare workers. But then the truth came out—we hadn’t finished school, and we were forced to leave. 

That rejection broke me. I fell into depression, lost my appetite, and felt like the weight of all my struggles was too much to bear. I am still receiving medical treatment, and I take medicine to help me cope with this anxiety.  

Life wasn’t perfect before, but at least I had the freedom to go to school, attend educational courses, and even visit parks without being questioned. I miss the freedom I once had and the memories I made with my friends. Many of them have left Afghanistan or moved to other provinces, but I still see some of them, especially on Eid. We often talk about school memories, like the time I was supposed to recite a poem in front of the whole class. I practiced all night, memorizing every word, but when I stood on the stage and saw all the eyes on me, I forgot everything! My friends and I still laugh about that day. These good moments help me to keep my strength.   

Now, I secretly study English at the home of one of my teachers. I help my neighbors’ daughters with their lessons, and I read medical books during the day. I’ve joined online medical guidance groups and try to learn as best as I can under these circumstances. I want to join Women for Women International’s adolescent girls program as a way to meet other girls my age and be able to learn a vocational skill to build enough resources for me to get one step closer to my dream of becoming a doctor. I dare to dream of building a hospital one day where poor people, especially women in remote areas, can receive the care they need. I cannot give up now.