This edition of The Frontline is dedicated to the women and girls of Afghanistan. Four years ago today (August 15) the Taliban re-took Kabul, and so began their reign of terror against women.
In the years since, women have lost most of even their most basic human rights. They are denied an education beyond the age of 12. They cannot go to the gym or park, or travel over 72 kms without a male chaperone. They cannot even access healthcare without a man accompanying them. And when they go outside, they must be covered from head to toe.
We hear from three Afghan women on the frontline. Fawzia Koofi, who was the country’s first deputy speaker of Afghanistan’s parliament. Yal Bano, an engineer, who sunk into a depression after the Taliban took over in 2021, but who now helps educate girls and young women through online classes. And Khatera, who is finishing her medical degree in Scotland. We also hear from two young women Uranos and Zainab who are continuing their education online and in secret.
There is a common theme running through their stories - one of the importance of education for women and girls, which is the same whether a girl lives in Kandahar or Kentucky. Education is power.
Policy and Power signposts organisations which support women and girls in Afghanistan and are campaigning for an end to gender apartheid. We finish with a poem by Sara.
STOP PRESS: The winner of a copy of Terf Island by Fiona McAnena is Jo Burbidge from Wiltshire. Jo, your book will be winging its way to you early next week. Thanks to everyone who took part. We promise more competitions in the future issues.
The world watches in silences as the women of Afghanistan are stripped of their most basic human rights
By Fawzia Koofi
Fawzia Koofi, Afghanistan’s first female deputy speaker in the National Assembly
I stand by a narrow river in the UK as evening turns to twilight. The water holds the gold and orange of the setting sun. But this is not my river.
The air here doesn’t carry the freshness of the mountains. The wind doesn’t sing through green trees. The stream doesn’t gurgle over pebbles of a hundred colors, throwing rainbows on its surface. It is quiet, still, almost shy. Most of all, it doesn’t talk to me.
It just keeps moving, steady, with no hurry, the way life moves on, breaking time into hours, days, months, and years I have not lived in my homeland.
Forced to choose between exile and freedom
I had always believed I would be the last person to leave my country. Why should I leave? I loved my motherland. I had never harmed anyone. My whole life has been about trying to make it better.
But I was forced to choose: the land of my forefathers or the life of an exile. I packed a small bag, certain I would be back soon. That was almost four years ago.
In truth, I have been pushing myself to survive since birth. When I was born, my family had wanted a boy, not a girl, to inherit the name, to make my father, a Member of Parliament and powerful regional leader in Afghanistan’s northeastern region, proud.
My mother told me later she didn’t want another girl in a world that treats women so harshly. That truth settled deep into my skin. If I wanted to be seen, I would have to prove myself at every step, like any woman or girl working three times harder than men, and clear a path for the next generation.
When the Taliban’s first rule ended in October 2001, I saw joy on the faces of my people. I thought, this is the end of injustice for women. I started running the ‘Back to School Campaign’, trying to enroll millions of girls who had been banned from school and university. We set up hundreds of temporary tents to be used as schools. I remember the happy faces of girls attending classes under those tents.
A new chapter for my country
I ran for parliament in a deeply conservative area in Badahkhshan province in 2005 and became the first woman in our history to be elected Deputy Speaker. The day I first chaired a session in parliament, when the whole country was cheering, I believed we were beginning a new chapter, not just for women, but for the country, for my beloved and beautiful Afghanistan.
The negotiations between the government of Afghanistan and the Taliban began on September 12, 2020. The talks were based on the U.S.–Taliban Doha Agreement, signed on February 29, 2020.I was a member of the negotiation team, a group of 21, of which only four were women.
When the peace talks began, there was a quiet sense of hope across the country, the same optimism as in 2001. People gathered around their TVs to watch the opening ceremony live, believing, maybe even daring to believe, that this might be the start of something better. After decades of war, we thought maybe, just maybe, we could finally talk our way to peace instead of fighting for it. Peace, but a positive peace, with justice and dignity.
I attended the peace talks with my right arm in a cast from injuries sustained in an attack by unknown armed men on August 14, 2020, just one month before the talks began, I was shot. The attack was meant to stop me, and through me, to stop any woman in Afghanistan from dreaming of holding high-level decision-making positions. But I went to the negotiations not only to represent my people and to ensure that the happy faces of girls continuing their education, even under tents, would remain, but also to represent the victims of war. I wanted to send a message to the Taliban that no wound is as hurtful, and no scar as deep, as the scars on women’s hearts and feelings caused by the Taliban’s perception of women.
Women taken out of public life
Now, I sit by this quiet British river, listening to voice messages sent to me from women across Afghanistan. Their words are heavy with pain and disappointment. I listen to the voice of Shafiqa (name changed for security) in Ghur province, who attends my online English classes and walks 20 minutes every day to reach the top of a hill to get better internet coverage and attend her classes. Listening to their messages of resilience is therapeutic for me. Through their struggles, I see a green light at the end of this long, dark tunnel.
Since returning to power in August 2021, the Taliban have issued more than 120 edicts and decrees. They have taken women out of public life. Girls are banned from secondary and higher education. Women can’t work in NGOs or government. Movement, clothing, even being in public, all are under strict control. Those who protest are beaten, detained, disappeared. Former officials and soldiers, even those deported from Pakistan and Iran, are arrested, tortured, and in some cases disappeared by force despite promises of amnesty.
In August 2024, a new law from the Ministry for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice came into force, effectively erasing women from public life. Five months later, another verbal edict banned women from medical studies, crushing dreams and deepening the crisis in healthcare. Public floggings and executions have returned to stadiums and town squares. Over the past few days, the Taliban have arrested every woman from the streets of Kabul, accusing them of not having the proper hijab, a hijab defined only by the Taliban and, in many cases, contradicting our religious principles. In fact, on many occasions, the Taliban’s decrees and edicts contradict our religious practices.
And the world… mostly watches in silence.
The international community focuses on the economic crisis and humanitarian aid, but without political pressure, nothing changes. My plea has been the same from day one: press the Taliban into political dialogue. But NATO and the US, after fighting them for 20 years, signed the Doha Agreement without demanding real concessions.
On July 15, the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for two senior Taliban leaders. Some say it’s just symbolic. But for us, it is hope. We hope that more pressure on the Taliban, and the use of internal accountability mechanisms, law and order, may create division and fragmentation among Taliban leaders. We hope that maybe the Taliban’s unity, which has been regarded as their strength, could crack. And if it cracks, perhaps a door will open for a political process. That is the focus of my work, and the work and struggle of millions of women.
If the Taliban continue ruling Afghanistan as they do now, my deepest fear is that people, especially the younger generation, will begin to lose faith in democratic values. If we, the reformed and transformed political forces, do not act quickly to restore constitutional order and deliver real change, the vacuum will be filled by radicalisation. Already, thousands of madrasas have been established by the Taliban across the country.
If we fail to respond, it is not only Afghanistan’s future that is at stake, but the region’s and perhaps even the world’s.
Fawzia Koofi was first elected to Afghanistan’s National Assembly in 2005 and became its first female Deputy Speaker of Parliament. She is a human rights advocate and a former peace negotiator with the Taliban. Find out more about her work here.
Engineer Yal sank into depression after the Taliban re-took her country in 2021, but now she volunteers for an online programme that teaches girls in secret, giving them hope as well as an education
By Yal Bano
Yal Bano of
I am Yal Bano, a woman activist from Afghanistan who lived under the direct threat of the Taliban. The Taliban actively search for all who work or talk against them. And it’s easy for the Taliban to kill those groups who work or talk against them.
Because of me, my siblings and parents are also under direct threat. We are not safe. But I can’t stop. The Taliban are lying, and they just want to fight for power. I am in hiding, fighting for my life and the lives of other women.
For the first three months of Taliban control in Afghanistan, I was totally disappointed and shocked because I was faced with an unbelievable situation. I saw all my 17 years of study and all my dreams for a bright future for me and others destroyed in just a month.
For those early months, I struggled every day with my feelings - why was I faced with this situation? I hoped for a bright life, but everything had ended. Every day, I cried. I had depression and started to hate all men, even my brothers. Because of the Taliban, who are all male, I hated all other men. I was full of negative thoughts, like a person who doesn’t have hope or any reason for living.
I lost any interest in my studies, and even reading, often asking myself, “why should I study if there is no hope for me and I am here, just like a prisoner inside my home?”
I became very weak and sick because I did not eat properly. In three months, I lost 10 kg. My parents were very worried, they thought I might have cancer because I had lost so much weight so quickly, so they took me to the doctor. She said I did not have cancer but if the situation continued I might face a very bad situation.
My parents told the doctor about me, that I was the most intelligent among all the boys or girls in our family. That I got A+ marks from the first grade of school up to grade 12. And that I received high marks for the university entrance exam and was the only girl in her class at university. And finally, that I had graduated with great grades. They told the doctor that I was full of positive energy and an example to other girls, and dreamt of the power of education for every girl in Afghanistan, but that today I was totally lost.
When the doctor heard my story she cried and did not say anything for some minutes, then told my parents I was struggling with shock and depression. But she could help treat me. I received treatment every day for the next three months.
And after I got better through positive words and motivational methods, the doctor told me that as an educated member of society I had a responsibility to help others by giving them positive energy, moral support and hope for living.
So I decided to change myself and fight for my own and others’ rights. Yes, it’s a fact that I am totally disappointed and broken inside. But on the outside, I try to be the strongest person, because the women and girls in my country need people like me to encourage them to live and give them hope.
Every day since then, I have tried to help my sisters. Before I escaped Afghanistan my timetable was a little different than it was in the past. As I couldn’t go to school or university, I was at home all the time, so I changed my home to a study place. I tried to study more books, work on my skills and improve my knowledge. I know education is power and the only way I will get my freedom again.
As I couldn’t go to the gym or park, or listen to songs outside, every day I exercised and did mediation and listened to peaceful and calm music in my own home.
And I applied my plan to help girls who could no longer go to school or university, as well as helping families who had lost their jobs after the Taliban took over. I used the internet to search for ways to raise my voice for Afghan women. Fortunately, the results of searching were great - I have met with many courageous women from around world online. They showed me the women of Afghanistan were not alone in this fight, that you are all with us. One of the groups I made contact with was Women’s Declaration International.
I remember it was winter and very cold when I first made contact. I gave a presentation about the situation for women and girls in my country. I then asked if it would be possible to have a page on the WDI website, and WDI Afghanistan was born. It can be scary being the contact in Afghanistan. WDI Afghanistan is like a path between Afghan women and the women across the world - it allows Afghan women to raise our voice to world. At same time I contacted the Women’s Rights Network and and today there is also WRN Afghanistan.
Since the Taliban took control here four years ago, it seems a hopeless situation, with schools closed to female students. But we continue the work we started in 2021. Under the banner Beautiful Afghanistan, volunteer groups of young, educated Afghanis help female students from inside our homes.
We teach students from grades 7–12 in a range of subjects, via online training programmes. Also, as women can’t work outside their home. This has had a very bad impact on household incomes. We try to provide food for those families in the worst situation. Today we have 1,000 families that urgently need food and humanitarian assistance.
We don’t want to become famous, and we don’t want to make profits. We just want to help each other and together make a positive change. Our work is totally private, hidden and friendly inside our homes. And because we connect via the internet, it is a safe way for us to continue our programme. Moving online is one way for women in Afghanistan to avoid increasingly dangerous confrontations with the Taliban. It’s also a way to organise, encourage each other, and to resist the regime’s draconian edicts.
Ultimately, we all know very well the problems Afghan women face, so there is no need for more explanation. But there is a great need for action.
From inside Afghanistan, my plea is that you don’t forget us.
Please stand with Afghan women. Afghan women need action.
Please don’t recognise the Taliban.
Please let Afghan women learn.
Yal Bano is 27 years old. She graduated with a degree in electrical engineering in 2019, before the Taliban re-took her country and imposed their restrictions on women and girls’ lives.
Shattered dreams and unyielding hope as Afghan girls battle for their right to an education
By Khatera
Kabul University where women are no longer allowed to study. Pic by Kabri Uddin via iStock
Fear and terror gripped all of Afghanistan, especially the residents of Kabul, when they realised the provinces were falling one by one into the hands of the Taliban in the summer of 2021. I thought Kabul, as the capital, would not fall, but I still worried everything I had worked to achieve would suddenly be lost. That day, my fear became a reality.
I was at university and had a midterm exam when suddenly everything fell apart and everyone was trying to escape. Our lecturers began collecting the students' papers one by one and advised us to leave the university and go home. I felt it would be my last day as a student because, from what I knew of the Taliban, I would no longer be able to continue my education. Outside, everyone was in such a state of panic it felt like the Day of Judgment. Everywhere there was pain and suffering, from losing my country, to losing my identity as an independent girl who could study, to the collapse of years of hard work. The jobs of my family members, whose salaries supported our household, everything was suddenly destroyed.
Fear spread across the country
For several days, no one dared leave their homes. Fear spread everywhere. A few days after the fall, everyone was trying to buy hijabs, special clothes that covered the whole body, which had to be black. After several weeks, they announced a limited number of students from medical fields could return to university, but girls and boys had to be separated by a curtain. Then it was decreed that boys and girls must be in completely separate classes. Despite following all these rules, it was finally announced girls could no longer study anything. Women and girls were dismissed from their jobs one by one.
When I looked at the women and girls in the city, I could feel deep pain and suffering in them, perhaps because I felt that same pain myself. Every time I passed my university, I saw my male classmates heading to their classrooms while I looked on with eyes full of hope. It was the worst feeling in the world, being deprived of my most basic rights just because I am a girl.
The days passed and restrictions on women increased - banned from schools, universities and jobs, prohibited from traveling alone, visiting parks, or simply going out for leisure. Whenever I left the house, I expected something bad to happen. The very goal that once gave me hope for a better future had gone and having it taken away caused deep and severe despair.
A person who has worked hard their entire life cannot simply remain still. After the universities closed, I began working in a clinic. Even on days when I felt I couldn’t breathe, going to the clinic gave me a spark of hope, a reason to keep going. But this did not last long either. After a few months, it was announced girls should not work in clinics at all, except for a very limited number who were deemed absolutely necessary.
The whole country had taken on a different colour or I could say it had become colourless. In every home, and in every girl I saw, they spoke of their pain at the loss of education. One day, I saw a short video on social media in which a young fifth-grade student told a reporter that, despite being first in her class, she deliberately failed so she could have the chance to go to school for one more year, because girls could only attend school up to the sixth grade.
Hope is all we have left
It is only hope that can give a person the courage to keep going. Every day, the women and girls of my country live with this hope, that perhaps one day ignorance will disappear, perhaps one day they will have the right to study, to work, and have the freedom to live their lives as they wish. Perhaps one day everyone will recognise their true abilities. The goal is not to prove this to the world or to others, but to themselves, a promise that every Afghan girl makes to herself never to be ashamed of her own dreams.
I saw the struggle, courage and strength to stand firm in the face of every Afghan woman, as they defended their rights with all their strength. But if the conditions are not right, even flowers will wither.
The charity that supported my education in Afghanistan for years and had played a significant role at that time in helping me pursue my dream of becoming a doctor did not abandon me. It provided me with the chance to continue my studies in the UK. My goals came alive again, and returning to the classroom after several years gave me an immense sense of happiness and brought a great change in my life. I am deeply happy for myself, but whenever I think of the millions of Afghan girls who are still deprived of their rights, it causes me great pain. A few days ago, I saw the news of my male university classmates graduating. I was happy for them, but I felt sorrow for myself and for all the girls in Afghanistan who are deprived of education. I received an opportunity that changed my life, but what about the others? Whenever I think of them, my pain feels new again.
Khatera is a medical student from Kabul who has been supported by the Linda Norgrove Foundation to come to [Dundee/Scotland] to continue her studies.
Queen Soraya of Afghanistan pic via Wikemedia Commons
Atta girl! Queen Soraya Tarzi was a trailblazer for women’s rights and girls’ education in Afghanistan, setting up the first schools and opening the first female hospital in the country
By Lily Craven, known to her many fans on Twitter/X as @TheAttagirls
Woman of the Week Queen Soraya Tarzi, born in 1899 in Damascus, daughter of a liberal Afghan intellectual known as the father of Afghan journalism, made the most important decision of her life when she chose to marry a man who shared her values. With his open support, she transformed life for Afghan women and girls, leading by example.
Her family had been exiled in 1881 but two years after Soraya was born, Emir Habibullah Khan ascended to the throne of Afghanistan as King and brought back many of the families driven out by his father.
At 14, Soraya married the Emir’s third son, Prince Amanullah. He also was influenced by her father’s liberal views and although he did not expect to become King, his - and her - first open break with tradition came when they announced their commitment to monogamy. She openly opposed polygamy and when Amanullah became King, the first thing he did was to dissolve his father’s harem and free the enslaved women.
Progress was women’s work too
Soraya believed that her country’s progress belonged to women too, and that every step forward by Afghan women was a step forward for her country. These were exciting times for the women of Afghanistan because they became eligible to vote in 1919, one year after British women but 15 years before Turkish women.
She broke with tradition by being the first Muslim consort to appear publicly alongside her husband at national events, cabinet meetings, and military parades. When he declared, “I am your King, but the Minister of Education is my wife, your Queen”, she took her responsibility seriously. Knowing that education is the key to liberty for women and unlocks doors to a future where they could stand as equals, Soraya established the first ever school for girls, Masturat School in Kabul in 1921.
The same year, she launched Afghanistan’s first women’s magazine Ishadul Naswan (Guidance for Women), edited by her mother. Its guiding theme was that women were not just daughters or wives but the builders of a new Afghanistan, equal to men in courage and vision. In 1924, Soraya opened the first women’s hospital in Afghanistan, improving healthcare access for women.
Slowly, things were improving but 1928 was a key year with several momentous events. She sent fifteen Afghan girls to Türkiye for advanced education, intending to expand employment opportunities for women.
Then came her most daring act of defiance. Within the palace grounds, Soraya did not wear the veil, but knowing that it was a powerful symbol that stood between women and their right to choose, and inspired by the courage of Egyptian feminist Huda Shaarawi who had removed her veil publicly at a railway station in Cairo, Soraya felt that it was time to lead the way.
Removing her veil was a revolutionary act
On 29 August 1928, Amanullah held a Loya Jirgah, a Grand Assembly of Tribal Elders, in Kabul for 1,100 delegates. He gave a speech about the many ways that he intended to reform and modernise his kingdom, and he made special mention of the women of Afghanistan. With Soraya by his side, he said, “Islam does not require women to cover their bodies or wear any kind of veil,” and he spoke of the Prophet’s wives who took part in battles unveiled. As he finished speaking, Soraya removed her veil. It caused quiet ripples of anger that quickly spread.
Undaunted, Soraya co-founded the first women’s organisation in Kabul with the King’s sister, Princess Sahira: Anjuman-i Himayat-i-Niswan, which supported women’s social and economic welfare. Chaired by Princess Kubrah, it encouraged women to follow the Queen’s example and to make full use of their recently acquired rights to refuse polygamy and to divorce.
Soraya’s influence spread to Iran. When she and her husband visited in 1929, she did not wear the hijab and inspired the Shah to introduce similar reforms for Iranian women. But back at home, men were mobilising to resist what they regarded as a shocking defiance of tradition.
On their return, the royal couple were forced into exile to prevent civil war. They eventually settled in Rome.
Soraya, who died in 1968 at the age of 68, continued to advocate for women even in exile. She famously said: “Do not think…that our nation needs only men to serve it. Women should also take their part as women did in the early years of Islam. The valuable services rendered by women are recounted throughout history, from which we learn that women were not created solely for pleasure and comfort. From their examples, we learn that we must all contribute toward the development of our nation and that this cannot be done without being equipped with knowledge.”
In many countries of the world, women’s rights have been a struggle with many setbacks, but none as great as Afghanistan. Every time Afghan women make a little progress, it has been cruelly snatched from them, and yet their courage and determination shine through, even during the bleakest times.
Rula Ghani, former First Lady of Afghanistan, tried to follow in Queen Soraya Tarzi’s footsteps and advocate for women before she too was forced to leave the country on 15 August 2021. To her goes the last word.
“When values disappear, the first people to suffer are women because people start losing their respect for women…The Western media has depicted the Afghan woman as a helpless, weak individual. I have said it before, and I shall repeat it: The Afghan woman is strong. The Afghan woman is resourceful. The Afghan woman is resilient.”
In her misspent youth, Lily Craven spent 28 years in prisons in England writing risk assessments, operational orders and contingency plans. Now retired, she spends her time finding ordinary women whose extraordinary achievements were buried in dusty footnotes in history books and writes about those instead.
Navigate the public policy maze with the editors as they keep a watching eye on the issues affecting women
In honour of the 21 million women and girls in Afghanistan who have been stripped of their most basic human rights by the Taliban regime, this edition of Policy and Power focuses on organisations and campaigns with an Afghanistan focus.
Yal Boni is the contact for WDI Afghanistan, a member of Women’s Declaration International (WDI). WDI is a group of volunteer women from across the globe dedicated to protecting women's sex-based rights. Their volunteers include academics, writers, organisers, activists, and health practitioners, and aim to represent the total breadth of the human female experience. You can find out more about their work in Afghanistan and elsewhere here.
Women’s Rights Network (WRN) is feminist network of women from England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland with one main focus: to defend the sex-based rights of women. Their Afghanistan campaign has created a wonderful FREE resource for schools to help teachers and students learn about the lives and thoughts of girls living in Afghanistan, who have been deprived of their right to education. WRN also organise rallies and vigils across the UK to keep the plight of Afghanistan women in the public eye. Find out more here.
A group of Afghan and Iranian women’s rights activists and lawyers set up the campaign End Gender Apartheid in 2023. Their ambition is to dismantle and prevent gender apartheid regimes through the codification of gender apartheid as a crime under international and domestic law.
The Linda Norgrove Foundation was set up in memory of Scottish aid worker Linda Norgrove, who was devoted to ensuring that the people of Afghanistan would achieve prosperity and stability as their country was rebuilt. She loved Afghanistan and its people. Linda was kidnapped and subsequently died during a failed rescue attempt in Afghanistan in October 2010. The foundation gives grants to fund education, health and childcare in Afghanistan.
The Obama Foundation lists ways people can support women and girls in Afghanistan on its website.
You can also:
Contact your MP:
Write to your local MP and express your concerns about the situation for Afghan women and girls, urging them to support humanitarian aid and consider asylum claims for those most at risk. You can find their contact details here.
Amplify Afghan voices:
Support female journalists and media organizations in Afghanistan by amplifying their stories and ensuring their voices are heard.
Sign petitions:
Support petitions calling for the UK government to provide a comprehensive asylum plan for Afghan women and girls.
Raise awareness:
Share information about the situation in Afghanistan with your friends, family, and social networks.
Pic via Unsplash
Northern Irish Assembly Recess dates: 5 July 2025 to 31 August 2025
Scottish Parliament Recess dates: 28 June to 31 August 2025
Senedd Cymru | Welsh Parliament Recess dates: 21 July to 14 September 2025
UK Parliament Recess dates: 23 July to 31 August 2025 (Commons), 25 July - 29 August 2025 (Lords). The Conference recess runs for four weeks mid-September to mid-October.
And finally, a poem written by a young Afghan woman, Sara for her father
My dear Father
I will stand and fight
Because I am your daughter
People say Afghan fathers do not support their daughters against oppression
But I tell the world that my father is not like other fathers
I will tell them now much you have always supported me
How much you try to help me to get progress in my life
And serve my people and humanity
My father, you are a miracle to this world
I have always been a rebellious and ambitious girl
I know how difficult it has been for you to protect me
From such a society and people around me since childhood
How much you have tried so that my inner passion and ambition never goes away
And still
Among all these people who are full of grudge, hatred, and jealousy
I survive and move forward
My father
I always cried in pain and despair
And I gave up many times
But you helped me with your right and considered guidance
And I continued by receiving the warmth of your support on my shoulders
My dear father
If I had not endured all the hardships
I have ever endured in my life
If I had not had your endless support and kindness every time
If I had given up many times when facing difficulties
I would not be your daughter today
Today I would not be who I am today
My childhood dream was always that I would live in a world of peace and tranquillity
When I was young
And achieve whatever I wanted
But now I have realised that life is nothing more than a battle
My youth, when I thought I was going to live
And pursue my dreams
Is spent in the corner of the house
The obstacles and dead ends are so many
That they leave no room for motivation and hope
When the hands of my oppressors
Are squeezing my throat more and more every moment
I don’t know how I would live now if I were not your daughter
But I have the great honour of being your daughter
Who will not bow down under the breathtaking attacks of the Taliban
And those around me
On my rights and my life
I have learned steadfastness, courage, and strength from you
I have learned to fight for my goals from you
I have learned to remain patient in the midst of all the suffering, ugliness, and betrayal
I have learned to take revenge by remaining good
My dear father
I am strong and powerful
Because I am your daughter
Now it is because of you
That I find the courage in myself to stand up to the oppression
That is being done to me and all the women and girls of my country
Even alone, I will win
Because I am your daughter