As a girl in Afghanistan, you grow familiar with a particular question shouted at you on the street: “Where is your mask, hamshira?” It follows you whether you are out for a simple walk, buying groceries, or standing in a bread line. Families cannot spend time together outdoors, since entertainment spaces are banned for women or require strict gender segregation.
During both Taliban regimes—first from 1996 to 2001 and again after their return in 2021—Afghan women faced some of the harshest restrictions in the world. One of the most visible forms of this repression has been the enforcement of strict dress codes. Women are required to wear a burqa or long black dress from head to toe, covering the entire body, with a mask and sometimes even glasses to hide their faces and eyes. In public, they must remain veiled, silent, and invisible.
From early morning until late night, religious police patrol the streets to inspect women’s clothing. If a woman is not dressed according to their rules, she is often scolded, detained, or taken to a police station, where her family may be forced to pay money to secure her release. In some reported cases, girls have even been sent to jail.
The compulsory wearing of the burqa is more than a physical burden—it is a psychological pressure. Many Afghan women describe feelings of fear, suffocation, and erasure. The heavy fabric, often worn under scorching heat, makes it difficult to breathe. The full-face covering restricts vision, limiting not only sight but also the sense of presence in the world.
These restrictions extend beyond clothing. The closure of parks, tourist sites, and entertainment areas to women prevents families from enjoying even the simplest outdoor activities together. Even in the few spaces that remain open, men and women must sit separately. A man cannot spend time with his own wife, mother, sister, or daughter in the same area; a barrier must divide them.
Psychologists note that families who have fewer joyful experiences together struggle to share emotions and build healthy relationships. This deeply affects children—those raised in calm and happy environments are more likely to succeed academically and develop emotional resilience. In contrast, the forced separation in Afghan society contributes to long-term emotional distress.
The mental health consequences for women have been severe. Psychologists working with Afghan refugees report high levels of anxiety, depression, and trauma among women who lived under Taliban rule. These emotional scars are worsened by the loss of purpose caused by the ban on education and employment. Women who were once doctors, engineers, and artists have been forced into silence and domestic confinement.
Another painful restriction is the rule that women must have a male guardian (mahram) to leave their homes. This has pushed many families deeper into poverty, especially those that depended on women’s income. Widows—already numerous after decades of war—have been hit hardest. With no male relative to accompany them, many have been unable to support their children and have been forced to migrate through dangerous, illegal routes.
Social isolation has been especially devastating for women. Many can no longer visit friends or attend gatherings without fear. Even within their own homes, their movements are often tightly controlled. A society that hides half its population loses its humanity; ideas, empathy, and collaboration cannot flourish. The streets of Kabul and other cities have grown quieter, drained of the laughter and energy that women once brought. Afghanistan—a nation of poets and storytellers—has been pushed into silence.
By: Fatima.Marefat
