Afghan Fathers Fear for Daughters’ Futures as Taliban Education Ban Deepens Despair

KABUL, Afghanistan — Afghan fathers are struggling with grief, frustration and uncertainty as the Taliban's ban on girls' education beyond primary school continues to cut short the academic ambitions of their daughters.

In interviews conducted across Afghanistan, several fathers told AFP that the restrictions were causing profound emotional distress at home, with some deeply religious men questioning the justification for a policy that prevents their daughters from continuing their education.

The Taliban authorities have defended the restrictions on the basis of their interpretation of Islamic law. But one devout father told AFP that the Quran does not limit education to men, while another father, who praised the Taliban for restoring security and reducing corruption, said he could find no proper justification for excluding girls from secondary education.

The men interviewed by AFP asked that their identities be protected because of the sensitivity and potential risks surrounding criticism of the authorities.

Afghanistan remains the only country in the world where girls and women are formally barred from secondary and higher education. UNESCO and UNICEF estimated in 2025 that about 2.2 million adolescent girls were excluded from secondary education because of the ban.

The restrictions have also affected higher education, with women and girls prevented from attending universities.

The consequences are being felt inside homes across the country. Fathers described sleepless nights, financial pressures and fears that daughters who have excelled at school will be left without a path to higher education or professional careers.

A dreaded day approaches

Engineer Ahmad, a father of four girls, said he never imagined that his daughters could grow up without access to a full education.

His wife, a secondary-school mathematics teacher, is also no longer permitted to teach. Their eldest daughter is approaching the end of primary school, bringing closer the prospect of her being forced to stay at home.

Ahmad said completing education only through Grade 6 would leave his daughters ill-equipped for the demands of modern life.

“Every day and every night, my wife and I... are getting closer to the moment when our daughters will have to stay home,” he told AFP.

The family has explored clandestine courses, but the cost of private underground education is more than half of Ahmad's salary, making it difficult to sustain.

He had previously been pursuing an opportunity to move his family to the United States, but those plans collapsed after changes to US immigration policy. Attempts to find alternatives in Europe have also failed.

His children, he said, do not understand how close the family is to losing hope.

“Every day” they ask: “When do we leave?”

For now, the family tries to protect the girls from the full extent of their parents' anxiety.

Fathers search for alternatives

Mohammad, a doctor in Kabul province, said he had always dreamed of sending his two daughters to leading universities.

“For the development of Afghanistan we need women, not only for the home,” he told AFP.

His daughters, aged 12 and 14, are approaching the end of primary school. For years, he has searched for ways to keep them learning, including considering schools in neighbouring Pakistan.

That option has become increasingly difficult because of restrictions and tensions along the border.

He eventually found a private school that secretly teaches general subjects alongside religious studies. The school charges about 10,000 Afghanis ($153) a month for his two daughters, reflecting the additional risks involved in providing the education.

But the arrangement offers no recognised graduation certificate, and Mohammad fears the authorities could inspect the school and take his daughters into custody.

Despite the risks, he said continuing their education was essential.

“While I'm alive, I will find a solution for your education,” he told his daughters.

“How can I learn?”

In southern Kandahar province, where the Taliban movement has deep roots, a father identified only as N said his 12-year-old daughter was passionate about astronomy.

She recently created a collage of the solar system and asked her father questions about gravity and the universe.

He encouraged her to keep learning, but her response exposed the central dilemma facing millions of Afghan girls.

“How can I learn... if I cannot go beyond grade six?” she asked.

N moved his family to Kabul in search of work and has tried to find alternative forms of education, including underground schools and online courses in areas such as design and computing.

But he worries that declining opportunities and dwindling international assistance will eventually make even those alternatives unaffordable.

“I may not be able to support that,” he said.

For now, he tries to shield his daughter from the financial and emotional pressure facing the family.

“She does not know that there is this other stress on us,” he said.

“I hide to cry”

For another father, identified only as M, the impact of the ban became painfully clear when his 13-year-old daughter could no longer attend school.

On a day when families were celebrating a feast, she remained in her room crying.

M, a devout logistics manager from a poor background, said he supports the Taliban authorities for improving security and tackling corruption. But he said he could not understand the decision to prevent girls from continuing their education.

“I cannot find any proper justification for” the ban, he told AFP.

When his daughter becomes overwhelmed with disappointment, M said he sometimes leaves the room because he cannot contain his own emotions.

“I go to another room and... I hide to cry,” he said.

He had saved money in the hope of moving his daughter to Iran so she could continue her studies, but the war ended those plans.

He later enrolled her in a Quranic school to give her some education and social interaction. But she eventually refused to continue, telling him that even if she studied, she saw no future ahead.

Learning at home

Nasir, 47, has tried to recreate a school environment inside his home.

His daughters' school trophies remain alongside books in the family's home library, reminders of academic achievements that have been interrupted by the education restrictions.

Together with his wife, a teacher, he tutors the girls using secondhand high-school textbooks.

They maintain a weekday routine designed to mirror school life, including fixed waking and sleeping times.

But home schooling has not eliminated the emotional toll.

Nasir said his younger daughter is depressed and sometimes struggles to maintain the motivation to study alone.

He gives her novels because she loves reading, while the girls also help other children in their building with homework.

Recently, they have begun attending classes outside the home secretly.

“We have sleepless nights” about it, Nasir said.

“This regime does not want educated people,” he added. “When will we go back to a normal life?”

A generation at risk

The fathers' accounts reflect a wider education crisis that international organisations say could have consequences far beyond individual families.

UNESCO's 2025 Afghanistan Education Situation Report said the ban had already excluded about 2.2 million adolescent girls from secondary education, with girls aged 13 to 17 effectively shut out of formal schooling.

UNESCO has repeatedly called for the immediate and unconditional reopening of secondary schools and universities to Afghan girls and women. The organisation says alternative learning programmes can provide vital opportunities but cannot replace formal, face-to-face education.

The United Nations has also warned that continued restrictions on girls' education and women's employment could have significant economic consequences, including losses in female employment and the country's future skilled workforce.

For Afghan fathers interviewed by AFP, however, the issue is more immediate than national economic statistics. It is about daughters whose ambitions are being put on hold, families searching for increasingly risky alternatives and parents confronting the possibility that their children's education may end at the age of 12.

For many, the hope is simply that their daughters will one day be allowed back into classrooms.