Refused Silence! Four Years Since the Taliban Took Over Afghanistan Again

Accompanying the report, a group of Afghan women artists created a series of paintings depicting the pain and suffering of detainees, as well as the broader human rights violations experienced in the daily lives of Afghans.

Marking four years since the Taliban seized power in Afghanistan, OMCT interviewed these artists, who reflected on their work, the challenges they have faced over these difficult years, their hopes for the future, and their demands for change.

When did you start your journey as an artist, and how has your work evolved since the Taliban returned to power?

We have been engaged in education and women’s empowerment for several years. Unfortunately, after the Taliban regained control, we were forced to halt many of our programs. It was during this time that we initiated our painting project. Much of our work is done in secret, and through our art, we aim to reflect the pain and oppression Afghan women face. Our paintings are a silent form of protest, a way to give a voice to those who are silenced. We want to portray the suffering of women and speak on their behalf through our art. One of our significant achievements was a project we completed in collaboration with OMCT, which allowed us to depict the reality of torture and injustice in Afghanistan.

How do you create art under such difficult and dangerous circumstances? What measures do you take to stay safe?

Working as a team, we knew from the start that our work was risky, especially because we depict the realities of Afghan society. To stay safe, we usually work from our homes and are very selective when it comes to choosing students. We do everything we can to ensure that our activities remain unnoticed. We also conduct painting lessons at a gallery, often during times like lunch breaks when we feel it’s safe. That’s when we work on art that would be considered unacceptable by the Taliban.

We regularly face significant challenges in running our courses. On several occasions, the Taliban have come and shut down our activities, forcing us to halt our work temporarily. Despite these disruptions, we do not give up, we persist, reorganise, and reopen as soon as we can. Each time the Taliban’s so-called “moral police” visit our training spaces, it feels as if the air is pulled from our lungs. Their presence is deeply unsettling, and we live in constant fear of being reported, punished, or worse. Even with these precautions, the fear never fully disappears. We carry on because we believe in the importance of education and art, and because giving up would mean surrendering to oppression. 

What themes or emotions do you explore in your current work,and how has life under the Taliban influenced that?

Our work centers around powerful and deeply personal themes, particularly the situation of women in Afghanistan, along with the cultural heritage and traditions of our country. These subjects have always been important to us, but since the return of the Taliban, they have taken on an even more urgent and emotional dimension. This harsh reality has profoundly shaped our artistic expression. Through our paintings, we try to capture not only the suffering and injustice but also the resilience, strength, and unbroken spirit of Afghan women. Our art has become both a reflection of the current reality and a silent protest against it. It is our way of preserving memory, challenging oppression, and asserting that we are still here.

Do you see your work as a form of protest?

Art, by its very nature, holds the power to portray both beauty and brutality. It can capture moments of joy and tenderness, but it can also confront injustice, violence, and oppression. For us, art has become a vital form of resistance. In a country where speaking out can be dangerous, and where silence is often imposed by force, art becomes our voice. It allows us to express what cannot be said openly, to tell stories that would otherwise remain hidden, and to stand up against the injustices we witness every day.

Although there is no financial support or sustainable income for artists in Afghanistan, we continue creating because it is our way of protesting, surviving, and hoping. Our art is not only about expression, it is about endurance. It is our quiet defiance in the face of fear, and a reminder that even in darkness, creativity cannot be completely extinguished. 

How do you connect with other artists or audiences, both inside and outside Afghanistan? Is there a sense of community?

Within Afghanistan, we connect with fellow artists through exhibitions or by visiting one another’s studios. Our connection with international artists or Afghans in exile is limited to social media. Inside the country, we mainly collaborate with female artists, as we have little to no coordination with male artists because of the current restrictions.

What do you want the world to know about Afghan women artists today?

Our message to the world is clear: we are still here. Despite everything, we are alive, we endure, and we continue to fight, not only for our own survival, but for our dignity, our identity, and our freedom. In a time when Afghan women are being silenced and erased from public life, we use our art to speak. Every painting we create is more than just a piece of art, it is an act of resistance, a form of protest, and a cry for justice. Through our work, we give voice to the pain, fear, and injustice that Afghan women face every day.

Each morning, we step out of our homes with uncertainty in our hearts, not knowing what dangers the day might hold. And yet, we keep going, not because we are fearless, but because we are full of hope. It is this hope that sustains us, that fuels our creativity, and that reminds us that our struggle is not in vain. Through our art, we affirm that we have not given up, and we urge the world not to forget us.

Despite everything, what gives you hope?

Our ongoing struggle and the presence of our students gives us the strength to keep going. Each day, their courage and determination inspire us to continue creating, even in the face of fear and uncertainty. The simple tools of our craft, our paintbrushes, sketchbooks, canvases, and colors have become symbols of hope. We hold on to the dream of a day when we will no longer have to hide, when we can express ourselves openly and without fear. We imagine a time when our art is no longer shaped by sorrow and oppression, but by joy, peace, and possibility. We look forward to the moment when we can put aside the dark, heavy tones that dominate our current work and reach for vibrant, light-filled colors, colors that speak of renewal, happiness, and healing.

We would like to send a message to Afghan women from the depths of our hearts: this moment will not last forever. With perseverance, courage, and unwavering determination, this darkness will eventually give way to light. As long as we carry hope in our hearts and continue to believe in the power of our collective voice, change remains possible. It may be slow, and the road may be hard, but it is within reach. One day, the world will hear our voice loud and clear.