Baharan Lahib

Takhār — For Afghan girls, completing the sixth grade was not a natural step in their educational journey; rather, it marked a painful dividing line in their futures. They realized that this moment would be their last official presence in school.

The deprivation of girls’ education in Afghanistan is not limited to the loss of classroom lessons; it leads to profound social, economic, and psychological consequences, including rising rates of early marriage, deepening poverty, stalled development, and the loss of half of society’s productive potential.

This year, finishing sixth grade turned from a normal milestone into a painful turning point for thousands of Afghan girls. After closing their books and sitting for their final exams with hopes of moving on to seventh grade, they did not know that this moment would be their last official time on school benches. Doors that were meant to open for continued learning were shut completely.

These girls are at an age when education is not only a right but a basic necessity for their intellectual and psychological development. Depriving girls of education at this stage means abruptly cutting off their dreams, talents, and aspirations that were just beginning to take shape. Many of these girls passed sixth grade eager to become teachers or doctors or to serve their communities, but they now face an uncertain and unknown future.

The consequences of this deprivation do not affect individuals alone; they extend to families and society as a whole. Girls denied education are more vulnerable to early marriage, forced domestic labor, and social isolation. This situation deepens the cycle of poverty, inequality, and dependency, and deprives an entire generation of opportunities for growth.

In many families, parents feel powerless in the face of this reality. Some have tried to provide home-based courses or informal education for their daughters, but these solutions are limited, unsustainable, and constantly at risk of closure. The absence of a clear and fair educational policy has imposed a heavy psychological burden on girls and their families.

The girls who graduated from sixth grade this year are silent victims of decisions made without regard for their futures. The silence imposed on this generation is not a sign of acceptance, but the result of a systematic exclusion of their right to education. With every day that these doors remain closed, the gap between ambition and reality widens for these girls, while responsibility lies with those who turned education into a tool of domination and control.

We visited the home of Roya Bairin, a girl who had just received her sixth-grade graduation certificate with distinction. As she entered the house, her eyes were filled with tears. The joy of success had turned into deep sorrow. She could not utter a word, and instead shared her pain with her mother in a trembling voice filled with resentment. Her tears were a mirror of the suffering of millions of Afghan girls who have been deprived of their right to education over the past four years—girls deprived not because of disability, but because of decisions imposed upon them.

On that day, if you wandered through Afghanistan’s back alleys, you would hear the cries and sobs of girls who had just completed sixth grade—girls who, with every tear, lost a part of their hope to continue their education. Alongside anxious mothers, teachers wiped away their students’ tears and said in calm yet hopeful voices:
“Do not be afraid. A day will come when this oppression, terror, and hatred of women will end, and we will all have a bright and hopeful future.