A Voice For the Voiceless

The Advocacy Project helps marginalized communities to tell their story, claim their rights and produce social change.

We are currently recruiting graduate students to volunteer as Peace Fellows with partners.

The Impact of Service



"I look at myself as having the potential to be as strong and caring as the amazing women I met in Kenya."

Kate Cummings (Tufts University) volunteered in 2009 as a Peace Fellow for Vital Voices in Africa.

For more 2009 feedback click here.

Translate this page:



TAKE ACTION FOR ADVOCACY

  • News
  • Subscribe to our newsletter
  • Search

Resources > Global Issues > Afghanistan's... > Educating Afghani... > The Omid Schools > A Visitor from Wa...

A Visitor from Washington

SUMMER 2004

Godah school, Wardak province (student population: 102) 

Sadiqa Basiri has been unable to resolve the competing demands of the two communities in the Paghman district which have asked her for schools. She has also concluded that her limited resources might be better invested in a school closer to Godah. In early summer she receives word that a school in the village of Noor Khel, also in Wardak province, is in need of support. Meanwhile, in June 2004, Ginny Barahona, from Georgetown University and The Advocacy Project, arrives in Kabul to work with Sadiqa Basiri. In July, the two travel to assess progress at the Godah school and visit Noor Khel. After the trip, Ms. Barahona sent the following report to The Advocacy Project. For more stories from Afghanistan, read Ginny's blog (The report has been edited).

The start of their journey: Ginny Barahona (far left) and Sarah Schores (far right), AP’s two interns in Afghanistan during the summer of 2004.  

We set out from the office of the Afghan Women’s Network in Qalai-e-Fatulah, Kabul, at 6 a.m. The school day runs from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. in Afghanistan, and in Kabul this means running three shifts a day because there are so many children and so few schools. In the provinces there aren’t as many students but the school day is still only three hours long.

We take a taxi to Koti Sangi, on the edge of Kabul, where we bargain for a van that would take us to Wardak. After settling for a price between 3,000 Afghanis and 5,000 ($62.50 to $104.66) we head off.

The road to Wardak is paved and it takes only about one and a half hours to reach the provincial line. We then leave the main road and head for the interior – where the two schools are located. The road is unpaved and winds through mountains and green valleys. The ride itself is beautiful, and it takes us across sandstone mountains and through lush green valleys. But it a slow journey. By 8:30 a.m., we reach Noor Khel.

Noor Khel school, Wardak

The Noor Khel school has been moved and we drive past its former location, which is marked by stones. I see no building and no trees to provide shade.

The new school is in the form of seven tents, donated by UNICEF, which are situated on a stony slope. Three of the tents are large, and able to accommodate 100 students or more. The remaining four are small, of the kind that Americans would use for camping. They can fit between ten and fifteen girls snugly. The smallest tent is used as the administration office or principal’s office. This is where we meet Principal Mohammed Zahir – a man in his forties. Mr. Zahir has warm eyes. He offers us tea and cookies while we talk about the history of the school and its present needs.

This school first opened ten years ago, in 1994. Mr. Zahir worked for the Ministry of Education at that time and was able to register the school without trouble. In 1996, the Taliban came to power and he was forced to dismantle the school. But he continued to educate girls covertly in two rooms of his house. Girls would go to his house under the guise of visiting one of the many women (wives, sister-in-laws, aunts, etc.) who were living there.


Much of Afghanistan’s infrastructure has been decimated by years of conflict. 

When we ask why he even started a girls’ school, he replies that his motivation is religion. “God’s purpose for us is to serve and there were already boys’ schools here.” So Mr. Zahir started the first and presently only girls’ school in Noor Khel. Interestingly, he has five sons and no daughters.

After the fall of the Taliban in 2001, the Noor Khel school was re-registered and classes started in the open air. A Swedish NGO stepped in to support Mr. Zahir’s efforts. In 2002, 200 girls between the ages of six and ten were enrolled, and today the school has 335 girl pupils between the ages of six and 13. Five days ago, the Ministry of Education, Rural Education Part sent out a team to visit this school. They approved the creation of 18 new classes, as long as the community is willing to donate the land. So Mr. Zahir needs to find some donors.

Academic Structure and Administration

The school’s six teachers – all men - are divided among the several classes, according to their academic level. There are five grades in all. The lower grades are larger and located in the bigger tents:

Grade 1 – 120 students divided into 2 classes
Grade 2 – 107 students divided into 2 classes (There is only one teacher for both classes so they are taught together.)
Grade 3 – 64 students in 1 class
Grade 4 – 34 students in 1 class
Grade 5 – 10 students in 1 class

Those administering the school are Mr. Zahir the Principal, and two guards. One guard works during the day and another at night, to prevent anyone from burning the tents. The teachers are paid 2,600 Afghanis ($50) per month from the government, which is the standard wage.

Equipment

Last month, Mr. Zahir finally received tents from UNICEF, which meant that the students could move in from under the burning sun. Each class is held in its own tent (except for grade 2). Inside, students sit on plastic mats on the dirt floor. They write on their laps and their textbooks are soft covered notebooks. There is no electricity, but the larger tents are white and it is easy to read in the abundant sunlight.

The smaller tents are open on the sides. Each tent has a small damaged blackboard, and no other academic accoutrements. The mats and blackboards are stored each night in the teacher’s house. They have books from UNICEF and some notebooks but no book-bags. Each UNICEF packet contains four notebooks and some pencils. These supplies will run out by September.

Students
The Noor Khel students have to walk as long as four kilometers every day to reach the school. They seem to me to be excited to be at school and be around their friends, but it is also the case that as students reach the marrying age, attendance diminishes. The Karzai government has decreed that married women should not attend school. It’s easy for a Westerner to forget that this could include girls as young as ten.

Some girls in Godah have their eyes lined in accordance with Pashtun custom.

Each class has its own representative, and they stand and greet us when we enter. In one class, the girls sing a song about the “struggle to learn” and realizing the dream of the Minister of Education. In the 5th grade class, I meet a girl named Zainab who is the longest attending student. She began studying covertly during the Taliban years – first at Mr. Zahir’s house and now here. She is extremely shy and I am only able to take one picture of her with my own camera. In other classes, when I ask the girls what they would most like to see happen to their school, many girls reply: “A building and some supplies.” They particularly need bags to help them carry their books during the long hike to school each day.

We take some pictures and say our goodbyes. By 9:30 a.m.  we head off to Godah.

Godah school, Wardak

We arrive at the Godah School by 11 a.m. The classes are being taught in two mosques in town, but there are no classes taking place in the first mosque, so we are faced by two options. The first is to return to Kabul and come back to Wardak some other day. This is not appealing since it was already difficult just to get here in the first place. The second option is to spend the night in Wardak. That is fine, as long as we can get a message back to my friends in Kabul. We drive to the house of Sadiqa’s uncle, while her father goes to find the only satellite phone in Wardak.

During the evening, I get a chance to meet a small group of girls who attend the Godah School. One of them, Masooma wants to keep learning until she is a doctor, teacher and engineer. When asked why she attends school, she responded “I love it. I feel like I learn something.” Another student, Latifah, explains that she wants to become a doctor or a teacher. Of the two, she would prefer teaching.

The first mosque: The next morning, we have some tea and leave for the school. Two classes are being held in a mud brick mosque approximately ten meters by twenty meters. The only way to differentiate between the classes is that one faces north while the other faces south, so the lessons are sometimes drowned out by each other. There are small boards on either side of the room. The girls sit on plastic mats on dirt floors and the ceiling is a mix of wood planks and mud. There is no electricity, but light streams in through two small windows.

There are 29 girls in one class and 33 in the other. As in the Noor Khel school, most of the girls have to walk for several kilometers to get to school. Those that wear shoes are presumed to come from middle-class families. No one gets a ride to school.

Here, too, there is a class representative for each group. Wasiqa and Latifah (who I met the day before) greet us and lead the class in a recital of poetry. Some girls are also asked to write words and do basic arithmetic on the board. They have no problem with this once they have overcome their own shyness. There are desks, but Sadiqa says that there is no space to accommodate them in this small mosque.

Godah is a Pashtun region, and the girls wear brightly colored chadars and dresses. Some have their eyes lined in Pashtun customary form. The official uniform for girls in Afghanistan is black pants with matching long shirt and a white chadar. I think the girls see the chadar as a symbol of learning. Four small boys sit on the side, and appear to be studying with the girls. They are either children of the teachers or siblings of the students who are left in their care. If these girls want to study, then they must bring along their younger brother.

I ask the girls if there are any changes they would like to see in their school. Although extremely shy, they are also curious and it isn’t long before they started speaking up. Uniforms are at the top of their list, followed by school bags, notebooks, books and pencils. One girl also says the school is very dusty.

The second mosque: This mosque is some way away and we have to drive. It measures 25 meters by 25 and is considerably larger than the first mosque. Here, too, there are two classes taking place simultaneously in the one room, facing north and south. But there is more space. One class has 21 girls, while the other has 27. As in the first school, the girls sit on plastic mats over dirt floors. The walls are the same mud brick and the ceilings are wood planks. There are four windows and therefore significantly more light and air in this mosque. Someone left rotting fruit in the corner and there are flies everywhere.

Equipment: Each of the students has tent books from UNICEF, although they seem to be falling apart. Although the books say they are not for sale on each cover, Sadiqa has had to purchase them from the local UNICEF office.

Sadiqa asks some girls to go to the board and write some words she dictates. The first girl is not able to do this, but the next two have no problems. It is a good chance to see whether they are learning anything. Sadiqa does the same in the second class. During these “tests,” one girl shows me a beautiful beaded covering for her pen. (Pashtun women use decorations and beading in their clothes and crafts.) She then gives me her pen, as do five other classmates! I don’t want to take their pens but the teachers said that I have to or the girls will be upset. I thank all of them. They giggle and return to their seats.

Teachers: There is only one male doctor in this district. Sadiqa’s uncle serves as Godah’s only doctor although he is a trained pharmacist. He also teaches in the school. There are no female teachers, because there are no educated women in the valley. This presents a real challenge, because some of the older girls are reluctant to show their faces to male teachers.

A small stream runs alongside the mosque. Several boys have gathered outside to check us out as we leave, and I can’t figure out why they are not in a school themselves. There is a small living room attached to the mosque where visitors are received. Next to it are the walls of a hundred year-old fort that holds a number of houses. The girls use one of its small rooms as a bathroom.

At the second mosque, Sadiqa proceeds to have a conversation with the teachers that looks rather tense. Afterwards, I ask her what it was about. She says she brought up several problems which need to be worked out. These include:







Curriculum and schedule: The Ministry of Education has ruled that no class size should exceed 40 students. The minimum size is 10 students, but the shortage of teachers means that classes often fall below this number. Classes start at eight and end at eleven, and three classes take place during that time – reading & writing, math, and Islamic Study. There is one break during the day. 

Sadiqa Basiri talking with local mullahs: This project could not have happened without their consent. 

Adult literacy: There are two adult literacy programs for women in Godah village. Sadiqa’s hope is that once students from the school graduate, they will move out into the community and start teaching the village women, none of whom have had formal education.

The first program takes place in the home of the 18 year-old teacher, Farzana. During the Taliban years, her father taught her at home until 6th grade. She is to be married in five months at which time the program will be left to her sister. Her program serves 19 women. Their ages seem to range from 13 to 60 or 70, but it is most likely that the oldest is in her forties. They all have the same notebooks and texts from UNICEF that we saw in the girls’ schools.

The women are quick to show us their notebooks with written letters and some words in Pashtu. The women are warm and friendly and although they don’t want their photo taken, they agree to allow us to take pictures from the back of the room. We say our goodbyes.

The second literacy program is also held in the private home of its teacher. The class has finished, and there are about ten women still present, but others break their journey home and return to greet us. Sadiqa begins quizzing them on different words and they eagerly respond. Within the group, six are married, and four more are engaged. The married women say that the only real challenge they faced is how to divide their limited time between studying and family duties. I ask the group why they felt it was important to read. One older outspoken woman in the back responds: “So we learn to know how to be better Muslims. We call ourselves Muslim but we didn’t know what being Muslim means.” Both programs claim that Islamic study is their favorite course. Sadiqa believes that without it, no one would attend the programs.

The women rearrange themselves in the room so as to have a picture taken from the back. After eating some apricots, we set off to return to Kabul.

Both adult literacy programs claim that Islamic study is their favorite course. Sadiqa believes that without it, no one would attend.
The Life of Women in Wardak. The Taliban tried to impose repressive rules against women throughout Afghanistan, but they were never able to fully enforce them here in Wardak. Family networks largely outnumbered Taliban forces, and this made it harder for the Taliban to beat women publicly as they did in other provinces. At the same time, Wardak is also more conservative than Kabul. Women cover their faces completely with a burka or a large chadar when outside the home. They normally remain indoors and never have their pictures taken. They do not show their faces even to other male family members (other than husbands or sons).

The average marrying age for girls is between 10 and 14. This is why it is so difficult to keep students in school. Once they are married, the girls must wear a burka or cover their faces completely with a chadar. They cannot show their faces to men, yet there are no female teachers. Sadiqa believes that the only way to address this problem is to bring teachers back from refugee camps in Afghanistan and Pakistan. This might be possible if the communities can offer land to their families.

Among the other immediate problems facing the schools program one has to mention the uneven support from community leaders, funding, and the upcoming October elections. Security is always a problem, and this week, a girls’ school was bombed in Wardak. It appears that someone threw grenades into the school. The teachers were warned against holding classes. But the school was also used as a voter registration site, and it is unclear whether the school was destroyed because of education or voter registration.

The longer-term challenges include how to lengthen the school day, increase the course work, standardize the school day, and build classrooms.

Back