On a recent Friday evening, a virtual classroom flickered to life across Google Meet. Nearly a dozen young women from different corners of Afghanistan logged in, their screens illuminating faces filled with determination. They had gathered for a literature class hosted by Hazrat Wahriz, a Toronto-based poet and educator whose non-profit organisation is quietly challenging one of the world’s most oppressive regimes.
The Taliban seized Kabul five years ago, stripping millions of Afghan girls of their right to education. What followed was a systematic exclusion of women from public life that international human rights groups have labelled “gender apartheid.” Yet in basements and bedrooms across Afghanistan, a clandestine network of schools has emerged, sustained by diaspora communities and unwavering resolve.
Underground Classrooms: A Lifeline for Afghan Women
Wahriz’s Network of Community Schools for Girls in Afghanistan operates both virtual and physical classrooms. More than 1,600 girls now attend secret schools where female teachers transform their own homes into learning centres. The risks are severe: under Taliban rules, girls may only attend school up to Grade 6, meaning those pursuing secondary education violate the regime’s strict religious code. If discovered, they face punishment ranging from physical violence to imprisonment.
Despite these dangers, Wahriz insists the classrooms remain full. “We are challenging that darkness just by our existence,” he said. The curriculum spans mathematics, physics, chemistry, and history—subjects the Taliban would prefer these girls never touch.
Funding arrives sporadically from “kind-hearted” individuals, including Canadian friends and a UK-based organisation. Teachers receive US$100 monthly when finances allow, though many continue teaching regardless, trusting payment will come eventually. “Drop by drop, it becomes a sea,” Wahriz remarked, invoking a Persian proverb to describe the cumulative impact of these efforts.
A History of Hope and Heartbreak
The current crisis echoes a traumatic precedent. During the Taliban’s first rule in the late 1990s, girls were similarly barred from education. That regime fell following the 2001 US-led invasion triggered by the 9/11 attacks. Canada contributed significantly to the subsequent stabilisation effort, deploying more than 40,000 Armed Forces personnel between 2001 and 2014.
Those years brought measurable progress. Girls returned to classrooms, and Canadian military and aid organisations invested heavily in women’s education and empowerment initiatives. Then, a bloody Taliban insurgency paved their return to power. By the time Kabul fell in 2021, the regime wasted no time renewing its education ban.
Murwarid Ziayee knows this history intimately. She was completing her final semester of law school when the Taliban first took power in 1996 and closed Kabul University to female students. Rather than surrender, Ziayee self-studied, mastered English and computer skills, and secured work at an underground non-profit educating women. After the 2001 overthrow, she completed her degree.
Now based in Calgary as senior director of Right to Learn in Afghanistan—formerly Canadian Women for Women in Afghanistan, founded in 1998—Ziayee watches history repeat itself. Her organisation’s virtual school serves more than 700 students, 92 per cent of them girls. The first cohort will graduate from high school next year, earning internationally recognised diplomas that open doors to post-secondary education abroad.
Canada’s Role and Responsibility
Women’s rights featured prominently during 2020 peace talks between the Taliban and the former Afghan government. Taliban negotiators pledged to uphold women’s education and employment “within the framework of Islamic law”—a vague promise immediately broken upon seizing power. Since then, the regime has issued more than 100 edicts targeting women, according to the United Nations. The Taliban’s supreme leader Haibatullah Akhundzada and chief justice Abdul Hakim Haqqani now face International Criminal Court warrants for crimes against humanity.
Ottawa has responded with financial commitments. Global Affairs Canada spokesperson Brittany Fletcher stated the government has provided more than $143 million for education and healthcare programmes over the past five years, carefully avoiding any investments channeled through Taliban structures. “Canada strongly condemns the ongoing repression, systematic human rights abuses and erosion of fundamental freedoms under Taliban rule in Afghanistan,” Fletcher affirmed.
Yet Ziayee argues this falls short. “The gap is huge and that’s why we are obviously impatiently waiting and praying and advocating for the day that things change in Afghanistan.” Her organisation depends primarily on federal funding and individual Canadian donors, with international supporters contributing to some student sponsorships.
Voices from the Frontline
Last month’s literature class offered a glimpse into the resilience these programmes cultivate. The session examined a short story about a teenager fleeing the Taliban, with author Shams Erfan joining virtually from Toronto. He urged the students: “I hope you continue… writing, critiquing, reading, protesting, attending online classes. These activities are a fight—a fight against the Taliban ideology that is trying to remove you all.”
Wahriz acknowledges his efforts resemble “a small drop in the desert” given the crisis’s enormity. The UN estimates 2.4 million Afghan girls remain barred from secondary education, a figure projected to reach four million by 2030. Similar organisations operate worldwide, attempting to circumvent the education ban.
Why it Matters
The struggle to educate Afghan women transcends individual classrooms—it represents a fundamental test of international commitments to human rights. Canada’s military investment in Afghanistan came at significant human cost: 158 Canadian soldiers died during the mission. The current generation of Afghan girls deserves better than to become statistics in a forgotten conflict. When we fund underground schools and advocate for diplomatic pressure, we honour that sacrifice and affirm that education remains a universal right, not a privilege granted by tyrants. The drop-by-drop approach Wahriz describes may seem insufficient against the tide of oppression, but history demonstrates that sustained, collective action can eventually transform deserts into seas.