Underground Sewing Classes: Afghan Women Pursue Secret Education
Across Afghanistan, in basements and storefronts offering sewing classes, a hidden rebellion is taking place. Five years after the Taliban retook power, the ban on girls’ education beyond sixth grade remains the most visible expression of the regime’s repression. Afghanistan stands alone as the only nation where girls are legally barred from continuing schooling past primary level. Yet secretly, women are educating themselves—schoolbooks tucked inside sewing bags while they listen for the sound of an unexpected knock.
About 40 % of Afghan women still imagine a future where change and equality are possible, according to a 2025 UN Women survey. Underground education networks across the country embody that hope.
At 23, Arghawan expected to finish medical school, but instead she attends clandestine lessons in the basement of a vocational centre. The dim, sparsely furnished space is lit only by weak solar lamps when power fails; if the moral police are spotted, English lessons are erased from the whiteboard and notebooks replaced with needles and thread.
When she is present, memories of her previous life flicker back. “I feel as though I am back in my school classroom. I feel as though I am alive again,” she says.
Ebrahim Noroozi/AP/File
An Afghan girl writes on a board as girls attend class on the first day of the school year, in Kabul, March 25, 2023. High school remained closed for girls for the second year after the Taliban returned to power in 2021.
‘Like a funeral’
Public opinion is unambiguous. Surveys show overwhelming support for educating girls and young women. The UN Women report found that 92 % of respondents in a door‑to‑door survey rated continued schooling as “important,” while 87 % among both men and women voiced strong backing in rural and urban settings.
The Taliban imposed bans on secondary education in 2021 and higher learning in 2022. Those decisions linger in the collective memory of women throughout the country.
Arghawan was 17, an eleventh‑grader aspiring to become a doctor or a prosecutor. She recalled the morning being sunny and the market quieter than usual. She did not know that the walk to school that day would mark the end of her academic ambitions.
“Unfortunately, our school has been closed,” a teacher admitted, quickly wiping rain from the blackboard. “It was truly like a funeral,” Arghawan says. Taliban orders forced everyone out; students who resist were beaten with sticks. At a neighbouring school, girls stood in the yard hearing that anyone above sixth grade could no longer attend. Teachers attempted to record the moment on smartphones, only to be threatened with detention by the Ministry of Education. The recordings were destroyed on the spot, and teachers silently complied, hiding videos for their students and for the Taliban fighters guarding the entrance.
Five years later, former math teacher and administrator Fazilah still runs basement classes where eleven former pupils learn English, mathematics, chemistry, and physics under the guise of sewing.
“I love teaching. I believe giving girls an education is my right,” Fazilah says, adding nothing to her modest tuition fee that covers supplies.
Five years ago, Fazilah continued teaching informally. Today, eleven women gather in a dim basement to study subjects officially forbidden by the state.
Arghawan once dreamed of overcoming repression after her school was shuttered. Isolation left her feeling like a prisoner, especially after weeks-long bans on adult education resources. Online English classes ran for seven months before closing, pushing her into a deep depression that prompted professional help. She now walks to her lessons proudly, claiming her studies bring her quiet joy.
A similar fate befell Rana, a former engineering student. After the Taliban terminated her year of study, she discovered warning signs—such as professors urging resignation in favor of marriage. Now teaching mathematics in a centre where the façade advertises sewing, Rana shares books and computers beneath the guise of craft instruction. The premises had previously been raided via tip, forcing staff to conceal materials, leaving only chalked sewing patterns on the board.
While dangers persist—be it interrogation, imprisonment, or violence—encounters are not uniformly deadly. During one surprise visit, officers entered Arghawan’s classroom abruptly, demanding advice on modesty, obedience, and marriage. Though terrified, she later described the experience as one moment of fear amid otherwise survivable challenges.
Taliban officials have varied tactics. Some offer overt indoctrination, others provide superficial warnings. For many families, compliance has become necessary simply to avoid surveillance.
Community resilience
Afghan women combine formal resistance with clandestine classrooms, proving that education persists despite prohibition.
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“If girls’ education continues to be limited … this society will fall into ruin,” Arghawan warns.
This story was reported and co‑written by Mark Sappenfield and an unnamed Afghan journalist, owing to fear of Taliban retribution.
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