Fatema Uzgun Nusrat runs an online school called The Behdukht Academy for girls in Afghanistan. Today Afghanistan remains the only country in the world that bans secondary education for girls and women. In the Behdukht Academy security is very strict, even students themselves don’t know one another’s names. But demand is high and the academy is going from strength to strength.
Fatema was interviewed as part of Amnesty’s On The Side of Humanity podcast recently. Here she shares what inspired her to create this school after living through years of Taliban rule as a child.
When the Taliban first took control of my province in Afghanistan in 1998, I was 12-13 years old. Schools were forced to close for girls, which was deeply painful for me as I loved going to school. I suddenly had to wear a burka and was not allowed to go outside without a male chaperone. There were no educational programmes available, and no internet.
At one point, a relative came to our house and warned us that keeping books was not safe, so we burned them—along with family photographs. Out of fear and uncertainty, people even threw away toothbrushes because of rumours that the Taliban only used miswak [a type of wooden twig] and disapproved of toothbrushes. It was an environment of constant fear, where even small things felt dangerous.
I managed to save a few books from my grandfather’s library, and I continued reading them throughout those difficult years.
During the hot summers in Afghanistan, I would wake up early to read while the air was still cool and everyone else was still asleep. I spent much of my day reading, even while helping my mother in the kitchen. Sometimes, my oily hands would leave marks on the pages of my books.
We studied by oil lamp
My favourite book was an adventure story – a heavy hardback with a green cover. I read it seven times. It is still in my house in Afghanistan now, I hope.
My parents encouraged my love of reading and motivated me and my siblings to study, even in those difficult circumstances. Because they themselves could not complete their higher education due to family responsibilities, they made education our priority and worked hard to provide us with books and writing materials.
There was no electricity in our province. In the evenings, we would sit together around an oil lamp and study. My father worked away from home, but my mother was with us every night. When I think of those years, I remember us sitting, reading, and laughing together in a small circle of light in a dark house.
Hope gained and hope crushed
When the Taliban rule ended in 2001, I was a teenager. Life gradually became easier. I completed high school and, in 2006, began studying law at Kabul University. I later worked with several NGOs and received a scholarship to pursue my master’s degree in Istanbul. I had young children, so I was initially hesitant about leaving and relocating abroad, but my husband was very supportive. We saw it as a valuable opportunity for me to gain new skills and bring them back to our country. I believed Afghanistan was moving forward, and there was a real sense of hope and energy in society.
But in the end, none of that future unfolded as we had hoped.
When the Taliban took control of Afghanistan again in 2021, I was still completing my master’s degree. It quickly became clear that we could not return. I was in shock. I could not stop thinking about Afghanistan, and memories of my childhood came flooding back. I kept asking myself: “How could this be happening again? Why?” There were no answers.
Founding Behdukht Online Academy
Although it was too dangerous to return to Afghanistan, I constantly thought about the girls who were suddenly banned from school. I reached out to a few families with daughters and offered to share online courses and educational opportunities with them. In 2023, we created a WhatsApp group with five girls and began building a platform to connect them with online learning resources. Later, we named it Behdukht Online Academy.
Word spread quickly. Other volunteer teachers joined, and student requests came from multiple provinces across the country. Today, more than 200 girls are studying with us. We follow the standard Afghan school curriculum that existed before 2021, and I have also introduced new subjects such as computer skills. The courses are mainly self-directed, with Behdukht facilitating access to learning opportunities while students take a leading role in their own education.
Our main concern is keeping our students safe. Persecution remains widespread under the Taliban, and we are committed to protecting their identities. Every new student must be recommended by a trusted contact and complete a form. Only after careful review do we confirm their enrollment.
My students make me so proud
Most of our students live in villages, and their families have very limited financial resources. It is remarkable how much support these families give to their children, even though something as simple as installing Wi-Fi or buying a tablet for online classes can be very difficult. Most importantly, they give their girls the time and space to focus on their education.
However, I am most proud of the students themselves. Their determination to learn is extraordinary. They find creative ways to study despite slow internet and a lack of textbooks.
Many of our students hope to continue their education at universities after graduating from Behdukht Academy, and last semester, four of them were accepted into online universities.
Learning at Behdukht Academy is free. We do not receive salaries and have no formal funding. I am currently seeking grant opportunities that would better support our students by providing them with essential resources -such as devices and internet access – so they can fully engage in their education.
My stories are still waiting for me back home
Because of the time difference between the United States and Afghanistan, I often wake up at 3 am. Yet I do not mind rising early, as it reminds me of my childhood, when I would sit in a quiet house and lose myself in books. Those stories are still there in my hometown, but I do not know when I will see them again. I sometimes wonder whether the traces of cooking oil are still visible on their pages.
My hope is to see Afghan girls return to school and grow up to rebuild our country with dignity and equality. I know that Behdukht Academy is only a small step, but I believe that meaningful change begins with small steps.