Every morning at 6 am, Dr Wahida and her colleagues embark on a 2-hour journey through Afghanistan’s rugged mountains. The roads are harsh, the terrain unforgiving and the delays inevitable, but the stakes are too high to turn back. At the end of their trek lies Botan clinic, a lifeline for the earthquake-stricken Gulran district.

Since the devastating earthquakes in October 2023, Dr Wahida has led the team at Botan, offering everything from maternal and child health services to treatment for infectious diseases.

Before Islamic Relief opened the clinic, villagers had to endure long and costly journeys to Herat city, an option few could afford.

Now, hundreds of families can access life-saving medical treatment close to home.

“I’m proud to be part of a team providing desperately needed healthcare,” says Wahida. “Without our support, the wellbeing of entire communities would be in jeopardy.”

Rebuilding community wellbeing  

The 2023 earthquakes not only destroyed homes and infrastructure, but also shattered an already fragile healthcare system.

In direct response to this crisis, Islamic Relief established 3 clinics in Botan, Chehal Dukhtaran, and Hamamak to provide urgently needed medical services.

“These families have lost everything in the earthquakes, their homes, their livelihoods, and even loved ones. The trauma is deep. My work here is about more than physical health. It’s about restoring hope,” Wahida says.

Bringing healthcare to remote areas

Wahida’s story is just one among many. Kunar province is surrounded by steep mountains, with the mud-brick villages miles away from reliable health facilities. Women and children often travel for hours, sometimes on foot, for medical care.

A small group of dedicated women is determined to change this by bringing healthcare to the most remote areas.

One of them is Taslima, a 30-year-old midwife from Shino village. Her daily routine involves a dangerous 3-hour drive.

“Traveling to the clinic on unpaved, rocky roads in the mountains is challenging and physically demanding,” Taslima says. “The roads can be unsafe, and we often face issues like flat tires that delay us from getting to the clinic or returning home.”

Despite these dangers she visits the clinic every day, remedying conditions which previously went untreated, including malnutrition and anaemia.

Afghan women overcome broken promises of change

The theme of this year’s 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence campaign, Broken Promises, is painfully relevant for Afghan women. For decades they have been promised progress, freedom and equality. These promises have been repeatedly shattered.

But women like Wahida and are refusing to let these setbacks define them. Working in a society where women’s rights have been consistently eroded, Wahida’s role is not only about healthcare, but also empowerment.

Her presence at the clinic symbolises a brighter future, one where Afghan women can work, heal and rebuild their communities despite the odds stacked against them.

Despite the broken promises to Afghan women, it is their determination and resilience that continue to drive change.

Please donate now to help Islamic Relief  provide essential healthcare, restore hope and empower women like Dr Wahida to continue their vital work.

November 29 marks the International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People. As we observe this day, it’s the second consecutive year that the world stands with us while the people of Gaza endure unimaginable hardships, massacres, injuries, and widespread displacement. As a Palestinian, I feel deep disappointment when I witness the global community, united under international forums and committed to Sustainable Development Goals, continue to issue decisions and treaties without meaningful implementation.

However, I am profoundly grateful to the compassionate individuals and leaders around the world who are willing to step forward and stand for justice, regardless of the cost. These are the people who invest their time, money, and effort to oppose wrongdoing and support the vulnerable, even if only with words.

Each one of us Palestinians has personal stories of suffering and deprivation of rights that are supposedly guaranteed by international law. I often wonder: to whom are these rights guaranteed if we and so many other vulnerable communities are denied them?

A glimpse into the past

Looking back at our beloved city of Gaza a year ago, despite being labelled by some as the world’s largest open-air prison, it was a haven to us. I cannot forget the olive trees, symbols of peace and a primary source of nutrition for most Palestinians. For the second year in a row, they have not been harvested. But it’s not just the olives left unpicked; children who survived violence have lost two school years. We have lost not only living trees but also many of our loved ones, our memories, and our hope for a more just world.

This reflection takes me further back to 2005, to the famous image of Mahfouza Odeh, a 75-year-old woman hugging the last grove of her olive farm before it was destroyed. That hug symbolised the mutual love between Mahfouza and her trees, a love I wish I could have experienced with any of my own olive trees. These emotions are shared by all of us who hold a deep connection to these ancient trees.

Enduring hardships

My thoughts then shift to a poignant article by Sara Roy in 2015, where an official described a strategy towards Gaza as “No development, no prosperity, no humanitarian crisis.” This phrase encapsulates the decades of hardship Gazans have endured. Under the guise of “no humanitarian crisis,” patients have died due to lack of medication and the inability to travel for treatment. “No prosperity” means that whenever our situation improves, setbacks return us to square one. “No development” has been enforced through restrictions, blockades, and the deprivation of free movement, disconnecting us from our natural extension in the West Bank.

All of this, although categorised as a prolonged crisis, was deemed “no humanitarian crisis” because it wasn’t making headlines.

The unbreakable bond with our land

Last year, during our displacement, the surviving olive trees stood full of olives, waiting for us to harvest, pickle, and press into oil. They even provided shelter for many who sought refuge under their long branches. We have a profound bond with these trees and the land they grow on. They are an integral part of our heritage, food, and even our proverbs, a heritage accumulated through centuries of connection. As the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish said, “Here we remain, as long as thyme and olives remain.”

I cannot forget that olive trees provided us with wood and leaves as fuel for heating and cooking when there was no fuel. We keep taking, and they keep giving. Even their extended branches sheltered us when we had no other shelter.

Echoes from the West Bank

The uprooted, burnt, or shredded trees in Gaza remind me of the West Bank, where olive trees have been regularly attacked, burnt, cut, and destroyed annually, right before harvest, a practice occurring long before October 2023.

It’s not only olive trees and their owners who suffer in the West Bank. Children face numerous dangers on their way to school. Pregnant women have given birth at checkpoints. Residents of Jerusalem are forced to evacuate their homes, only to see new inhabitants introduced in their place.

Even UN bodies and international NGOs providing humanitarian aid to Palestinians, like UNRWA, have faced challenges, despite their adherence to the highest standards of transparency and accountability. If such globally overseen organisations face obstacles, what fate awaits less protected, more vulnerable humanitarian workers, agencies, and individuals?

A continuing story

This is not a conclusion, for our story continues. It’s time to stop losing lives and time attempting to change the unchangeable. The types of olive trees and the people bonded to them can only live and thrive on this land. Other types of trees, which do not belong here, can only grow where they naturally belong. As Mahmoud Darwish said, our existence is as deeply rooted in this land as the olive tree.

On this International Day of Solidarity, let us remember the enduring spirit of the Palestinian people and the centuries-old olive trees that symbolize our resilience. We invite the global community to stand with us, not just in words but in actions that lead to meaningful change.

*Ahmed (not a real name)

Every year, the United Nations-led 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence campaign reminds us of the persistent struggles endured by women and girls across the world. In a remote corner of Nepal, one faith leader supported by Islamic Relief is helping to empower women, spearheading a quiet revolution against GBV and early/forced marriage.

Maulana Tabrej Alam’s story is a testament to how faith leadership and courageous action can drive profound social transformation, in this case challenging harmful practices such as early/forced marriage, sometimes referred to as child marriage, and starting to turn the tide against violence towards women and girls. 

A voice for change in a remote village

Tabrej, a 28-year-old religious scholar from Rajpur-1, Bhagwanpur in southeastern Nepal, is no ordinary cleric. Married at 14, Tabrej pursued higher education in Islamic studies, completing his Qaree level in Lucknow, India, before returning home with a mission that extended beyond theoretical religious teaching into practical action. His ambition was clear: to transform his community by addressing long-standing issues such as child marriage, domestic violence, and gender inequality.

Tabrej’s faith is both his anchor and compass. Drawing from Islamic principles of justice and equality, he recognises the urgent need to challenge the deeply entrenched social and cultural practices that harm so many women and girls in his community.

“In my municipality, people recognise me as a faith leader working for the betterment of all, and I see this as my responsibility to drive change,” Tabrej says, reflecting on his role as both a religious scholar and a social activist.

Faith as a force for justice

At the heart of Tabrej’s activism is his commitment to ending child marriage – a practice that stifles the hopes and dreams of so many girls and puts their health and future prosperity at risk.

Challenging child marriage has not been an easy fight. Many families are firmly rooted in traditions that include early marriage as a necessity. But Tabrej’s faith gived him the courage to take a stand.

He began by educating families on the damaging effects of child marriage, highlighting how it so often leads to girls dropping out of school, domestic abuse, and the marginalisation of women. Using Islamic teachings, he framed his arguments around justice and the importance of giving girls the chance to thrive.

“The Qur’an promotes equality and justice,” he explains. “It is my duty to ensure these values are upheld, especially for the most vulnerable.”

Tabrej’s work has led to notable successes. One of his proudest achievements was preventing the marriage of a young girl called Najahat at just 14. He convinced her parents to delay the marriage and ensure that she continued her education.

Najahat’s marriage was delayed by several years and, at the age of 20, she has now become a powerful advocate for girls’ education, inspiring others in her community. Thirteen other local girls have been saved from early marriage, and 5 have married without the oppressive tradition of dowry.

The power of community action

Tabrej stepped out in faith in the beginning, but he knew that ultimately, he would not succeed alone. His work took on a new dimension when he partnered with Islamic Relief Nepal’s Equal and Just Society by Reducing Gender-Based Violence (GARVA) project. The training and resources provided by the project empowered Tabrej to expand his reach and bring hope of a brighter future to more girls.

As a member of a Community Hope Action Team (CHAT), Tabrej has led workshops for faith leaders, community members, and members of Self-help Groups, educating them on harmful traditions and advocating for women’s rights.

“The support I’ve received through the GARVA project has been crucial,” Tabrej says. “It has allowed me to train others, organise events, and provide resources to those in need.”

Tabrej’s efforts have led to a significant reduction in child marriages, increased awareness of GBV, and ensured greater support for survivors of violence and abuse. Girls who were once discouraged from pursuing education are now excelling in school, thanks to changing attitudes within the community.

A fight far from over

Despite so many successes, Tabrej is acutely aware that many trials lie ahead. He wants to challenge the harmful practice of dowry and fight the epidemic of substance abuse that plagues his community.

His resolve is unwavering. “The fight is far from over, but with support from partners like Islamic Relief Nepal, I am confident we can make even greater strides.”

For Tabrej, faith is not just a belief system but a tool for social justice. His work highlights the crucial role religious leaders can play in transforming their communities by addressing long-standing injustices.

Faith in motion

As the world gets involved in the 16 Days of Activism campaign and reflects on what it takes to replace broken promises with practical action, Tabrej’s story reminds us that change begins at the grassroots level. His efforts show how faith can be a driving force for equality and justice. By combining religious teachings with social activism, he is helping the whole community to build a brighter future.

Now more than ever, communities must come together to support leaders like Tabrej, whose faith-driven activism offers hope for those fighting for a world free of violence and inequality.

If you want to make a lasting impact, donate today to help  leaders like Tabrej break the cycle of violence and poverty that so many girls and women endure.

Imam Soeroto, a respected religious leader from Central Java, Indonesia, always believed that faith held the key to justice and equality. For years, he guided his community through prayer and teachings, but it wasn’t until he began working with Islamic Relief that he realized the profound impact of positive masculinity.

Through workshops and community engagement, Imam Soeroto learned how faith could be a tool to reshape harmful gender norms. He began advocating for men to be protectors of dignity, encouraging them to challenge the deeply entrenched idea that masculinity must be tied to dominance or violence.

“True strength,” he would tell his congregation, “Is in compassion and respect, not in control or aggression.”

The concept of positive masculinity resonated with Soeroto on a personal level. He saw firsthand the broken promises made to women; promises of safety, respect, and equality that had been shattered by societal expectations of men.

Determined to change this, Imam Soeroto used his platform to speak openly about the importance of justice and equality in Islam, framing positive masculinity as an integral part of his faith.

His sermons now call on men to be allies in the fight against injustice, using their strength to uplift, not oppress. Through his leadership, men in his community are learning that true masculinity means upholding the values of empathy, respect, and shared responsibility for a just and peaceful society.