Dr Masih Farahimi leaves for work each day fearing arrest simply for being a woman. Yet she continues to show up, knowing that pregnant mothers and newborns depend on her presence. Her story reveals both the crushing weight of gender-based restrictions and the unbreakable spirit of Afghan women refusing to disappear.

“Every day when we leave the house, we despair that we might be arrested for being a woman and not returned back.”

Dr Masih Farahimi speaks these words with quiet intensity. A medical doctor working as a midwife with Islamic Relief’s Hira Project since March 2020, Dr Farahmi embodies a paradox that defines life for countless Afghan women: continuing to serve her community whilst living under restrictions designed to erase her from public life entirely.

As the world marks 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence, from 25 November to 10 December, Dr Masih’s reality demands our attention. One in 3 women around the world experience violence, but for Afghan women, the violence isn’t just physical. It’s systemic, structural, and suffocating.

The daily calculation

Dr Masih works full time in a maternity ward, focusing on antenatal care, postnatal care, and family planning services. Basic healthcare that saves lives. Yet reaching work requires navigating a maze of restrictions that would break most people.

She is forced to travel with a mahram (a male guardian) almost everywhere; There is a constant dress code to adhere to; Training or meetings outside the province are often forbidden.

Dr Masih has to make the same mental calculation each morning: is the risk worth it?

“We don’t have security,” she explains simply. The understatement masks a profound truth. Since August 2021, Afghanistan has implemented increasingly severe restrictions on women.

In December 2024, authorities banned women from studying medicine, nursing, or midwifery, closing some of their last pathways to professional healthcare roles. Earlier that year, a new law formalised existing restrictions and introduced fresh ones, including prohibiting women from speaking aloud in public.

For female health workers like Dr Masih, these restrictions create impossible situations. Nearly 90% of medical staff in earthquake-affected regions are men. When disasters strike, women and girls comprise over half the casualties but face critical barriers accessing care. Male doctors cannot examine them under strict social codes. Female doctors are vanishingly rare and increasingly restricted.

 What keeps her going

“The need of the people, especially women and children, motivates me,” Dr Masih says. “Many of them depend on our presence for basic healthcare and awareness. Knowing that I can make even a small difference gives me strength to keep going.”

“Even then, it’s hard.” She adds.

The mental and emotional toll of working under such conditions is immense. Female-friendly spaces where women could gather and support each other have closed. Dr Masih copes by staying home when mentally exhausted, spending time with other women, sitting with family, and trying to think positively.

“I believe that the situation will eventually change for the better, inshallah,” she says, her faith evident, despite everything.

The ripple effects

The restrictions don’t only harm female health workers. They devastate the entire healthcare system and the communities it serves. Afghanistan now has 1 of the world’s largest workforce gender gaps. Just 1 in 4 women is working or seeking work, compared to nearly 90% of men.

Dr Masih shares an example: “I know a woman who suffers from haemorrhoids but is not allowed to go to the hospital because there is no female doctor or surgeon available. Her husband also refuses to let a male doctor examine her.”

The woman suffers in silence, denied care because of her gender.

It is a story repeated across Afghanistan, where women’s access to healthcare has become increasingly difficult. Fear, mobility restrictions, education bans, and systemic discrimination keep women and girls from getting the care they need.

A different kind of violence

This is gender-based violence. Not always physical, but violence, nonetheless. It is the deliberate erasure of women from education, employment, and public life. The systematic denial of their autonomy, their voice, their right to exist fully in society.

The UN has stated these restrictions may constitute crimes against humanity. Yet women like Dr Masih continue showing up, providing care, refusing to be erased.

Dr Masih’s requests are straightforward: more flexibility around travel restrictions and access to training, safe transportation options for female staff, more community sensitisation and an increase in mental health support.

“These would make a big difference,” she states.

But her deeper hopes go further.

“I hope all these restrictions will be lifted and women will be allowed to make decisions about their own lives. Schools and universities should reopen. We should not be punished further simply because of our gender. I want my rights to be respected as a human being and not to be deprived of my basic freedoms.”

The strength to continue

“I am a very strong woman, alhamdulillah,” Dr Masih says.

This is not bravado. It is survival. It’s the strength of every woman who continues working despite restrictions designed to stop her.

Islamic Relief continues to support healthcare workers like Dr Masih through projects like Hira, providing safe and supportive work environments despite enormous challenges. The organisation tries to create inclusive environments for female staff, ensuring they work with dignity and respect even as the broader context makes this increasingly difficult.

“Despite the current restrictions, I find the Islamic Relief workplace relatively safe and supportive,” she reflects. “My team always ensures we work with dignity and respect.”

In a country where being a woman in public can lead to arrest, where speaking aloud is forbidden, where education and employment are systematically denied, Dr Masih continues to serve. Not because it’s easy. Not because it’s safe. But because lives depend on it.

That’s not just resilience. That’s revolutionary hope in action.

As we mark the 16 Days of Activism, Dr Masih’s story reminds us that solidarity requires more than sympathy. It demands action. Afghan women haven’t given up. Neither should the international community.

Islamic Relief stands with women and girls facing violence and discrimination worldwide. During the 16 Days of Activism and every day, we remain committed to supporting the rights, dignity, and wellbeing of all people. Support our work today and donate.

The morning routine begins early for Iman in Grozny, Chechnya. When most teenagers hit snooze on their alarms, 15-year-old Iman is already awake, performing her upper body exercises before logging into her online classes. Confined to a wheelchair due to spinal trauma, Iman has structured her days around what she can control – her education, her determination, and now, her flourishing career as a nail artist.

“The main challenge I face in my daily life is the inability to walk and be self-reliant in the simplest activities that other people can afford without any efforts,” Iman says. “I am greatly obliged to my parents for their patience and love.”

Yet this young woman from Chechnya is rewriting what independence looks like.

A turning point

A friend had shared information about Islamic Relief’s free vocational training programme for people with disabilities through WhatsApp, Iman saw the opportunity and never looked back.

For a family where the sole breadwinner is Iman’s 21-year-old brother Muslim (who works in airport security) and where medical expenses for Iman’s regular rehabilitation courses and operations constantly strain resources, this felt almost destined.

“I like it very much to draw, that’s why we decided that I should take manicure classes,” Iman explains. Her mother Razet called Islamic Relief for details, and soon they were invited to the first lesson. “It was great!” Iman recalls.

From student to business owner

What Islamic Relief provided went beyond the expected. Iman didn’t just acquire manicure and pedicure skills – she received all the equipment and materials needed to open her own studio. Income from Muslim’s salary, Iman’s disability pension, and her mother’s small carer’s allowance are often not enough to cover monthly costs, this support from Islamic Relief helped transform possibility into reality.

“It is a great thing to be able to work and earn something yourself!” Iman says with pride.

The work demands excellence. Building a client base requires not just technical skill but trust, reliability, and the ability to deliver results that keep customers coming back. For someone who must navigate daily life from a wheelchair, each client appointment represents a small victory – over societal assumptions, over logistical challenges, over the limitations others might impose.

Iman’s first income – 6,900 roubles (approximately RM415) – represents far more than its monetary value. It’s proof of capability, evidence of independence, and validation that her worth isn’t defined by her disability.

The power of belief

“Our teacher is a great person, she inspired us so much and welcomed all our efforts,” Iman remembers. “This made us sure we would succeed”

This belief – from her instructor, from her family and supported by Islamic Relief – has been transformative. In a world where people with disabilities face unemployment rates as high as 80% in some countries and assumptions about capability often precede any assessment of actual ability, Iman’s story challenges every limiting narrative.

She studies online in Year 9, managing her education despite regular interruptions for medical treatment. She maintains morning exercise routines. She builds a business. She does all of this whilst relying entirely on others for basic mobility.

“I saw many people who cannot use their legs, but they use their brain and hands to be useful to the society,” Iman reflects.

Building community, not just business

For Iman, the vocational training programme delivered unexpected gifts alongside the practical skills. “I have gained skills and met many good friends! I have received a lot of good memories!” she says.

This social dimension matters profoundly.

“I don’t like it to be alone, I like people and communication,” Iman explains.

The programme created what all good disability inclusion initiatives should: not a separate space for people with disabilities, but an environment where they could learn, grow, and build community together whilst developing skills.

Looking forward with hope

“Insha’Allah, I will continue to work as a nail master, since I like it very much,” Iman says of her future. Her aspirations are to continue doing the work she loves and to maintain the independence she’s worked so hard to build.

She’s practical about improvements too, suggesting that training facilities could benefit from more spacious rooms and stationary ramp entrances – the kind of accessibility features that demonstrate genuine commitment to inclusion.

Her message to Islamic Relief carries the gratitude of someone who understands exactly what was given: not charity, but opportunity. “I would like to thank people in the Islamic Relief who thought of this kind of project. Such attitude gives people with disabilities a chance to become more skilled and make their dreams come true!”

 What real support looks like

As the world marks International Day of Persons with Disabilities, Iman’s story reminds us that leadership comes in many forms.

Sometimes it looks like a 15-year-old girl in Grozny, building a business from a wheelchair, proving that determination and opportunity can overcome obstacles that once seemed insurmountable.

Her hands may create beautiful nails, but her story paints an even more beautiful picture – of resilience, of family support, of organisational commitment, and of a young woman refusing to let disability define the boundaries of her life.

This International Day of Persons with Disabilities, Islamic Relief Worldwide celebrates individuals like Iman who lead through their courage, determination, and refusal to accept limitations. Their leadership lights the path towards a truly inclusive and sustainable future for all. Support our work and help us provide opportunities for more people like Iman, donate today.

The scorching sun beats down on Camp-4 in Kutupalong, Bangladesh, home to more than 35,000 Rohingya refugees who fled unspeakable violence in Myanmar. Among them is 36-year-old Nasima, whose story reveals the particular vulnerabilities women face in humanitarian crises.

As we mark 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence, we share the story of Nasima, a Rohingya refugee whose journey from persecution to resilience reminds us why safe shelter is a fundamental right for all women and girls.

When home becomes a memory

In December 2017, Nasima’s world collapsed. The Myanmar army’s brutal campaign against the Rohingya forced her family to make an impossible choice: stay and face persecution, or flee into the unknown. Like nearly 1 million others, Nasima chose survival, but it came at a devastating cost.

During their desperate escape, Myanmar soldiers opened fire on Nasima’s family. The bullets found their mark, leaving her with severe injuries that would alter the course of her life. The physical wounds were profound, but the invisible scars ran deeper still. The trauma shattered not only her body but her sense of safety in the world.

Today, Nasima lives with her 6-year-old daughter Yasmin in a refugee camp where nearly 8,000 families grapple with the daily struggle for survival. With no source of income and limited mobility due to her injuries, Nasima embodies the vulnerabilities that women in humanitarian settings face – vulnerabilities that the 16 Days of Activism campaign seeks to address.

The weight of unsafe shelter

For 2 years, Nasima and Yasmin were forced to live in a deteriorating bamboo shelter. The structure, ravaged by weather and termites, offered little more than a symbolic roof over their heads. Damaged tarpaulins provided scant protection against the region’s punishing sun and monsoon rains. The flimsy fencing was no barrier at all.

“I used to live in a small bamboo shelter, and I was always sceptical about its durability,” Nasima recalls. “Whenever there was a strong wind, I feared that the shelter might not withstand it.”

This constant state of fear is something women in crisis settings know well. When your home cannot protect you from the elements, you are vulnerable to everything. For women like Nasima – living with physical disabilities and mental trauma – an unstable shelter exacerbates the daily challenges of camp life and increases exposure to gender-based violence.

The dignity of safe shelter

Hope arrived in January 2023 when Islamic Relief launched the Integrated WASH and Shelter Assistance Project (InSAP) in Camp-4. Through careful assessment, Islamic Relief identified the families most in need – those whose shelters had become dangerous rather than protective. Nasima qualified for the programme, receiving more than just materials.

Islamic Relief built a new shelter for Nasima. Strong bamboo replaced rotting posts. Secure tarpaulins replaced tattered sheets. A proper structure replaced a precarious assemblage. For the first time since fleeing Myanmar, Nasima and Yasmin had a home that could protect them.

“We are incredibly grateful for the support from Islamic Relief Bangladesh,” Nasima says, her voice carrying relief. “This new shelter provides a sense of security and comfort we haven’t experienced in years. It’s a life-changing intervention that we won’t forget.”

Islamic Relief also provided mosquito nets to protect against disease, Qurbani meat during celebrations, winter clothes against the cold, and Ramadan food parcels. But as this year’s 16 Days of Activism campaign reminds us, women’s safety requires sustained investment and commitment.

The transformative power of aid

As we observe the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence, Nasima’s journey from a bullet-riddled escape to a safe shelter reminds us of our collective responsibility. Nearly 1 in 3 women worldwide experiences violence in their lifetime. In humanitarian emergencies, these risks intensify.

Safe shelter is both practical intervention and powerful statement: every woman and girl deserves protection, dignity, and the chance to live without fear. Nasima’s resilience shows us what becomes possible when humanitarian assistance recognises the specific vulnerabilities women face and responds with comprehensive, compassionate support.

Shelter to Nasima and Yasmin represent more than walls and a roof, it symbolises a future where safety for women is not a luxury, but a fundamental right.

This 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence, Islamic Relief Worldwide stands with women and girls facing violence, displacement, and insecurity worldwide. Together, we can build a future where every woman has access to safety, dignity, and hope. Donate now to help women and girls like Nasima and Yasmin.