In a small, dim basement somewhere in Herat a dozen teenage girls sit huddled around a flickering kerosene lamp. Their notebooks are open, their eyes quietly determined. Hidden behind a thin curtain, this is one of many secret classrooms across the city – spaces where education still breathes under a regime that seeks to suffocate it.

Since the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, formal schooling for girls beyond primary level has been strictly prohibited.

Human rights organizations such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have documented the Taliban’s attacks on education, including cases of intimidation, school closures and the targeting of educators. The United Nations has repeatedly called for the restoration of girls’ right to education, calling the current situation “gender apartheid”.

But Herat, the third-largest city in the country and known for its rich culture, has become a silent stronghold of defiance. Night schools, operated by former teachers and volunteers, run in secret. They offer a rare glimmer of hope for Afghan girls who refuse to give up on learning.

The girls who attend know the dangers all too well. “Some nights, the fear is louder than the lessons,” says Marwa*, a quiet 13-year-old with large, alert eyes. She often lies to neighbours about where she’s going. “If they find out, my whole family could be in danger,” she whispers. Her mother helps her pack her bag each night, but only after checking the street outside. “She says if I’m caught, I must say I was visiting an aunt.”

“Every night before leaving home I read a prayer and wear black so I won’t be seen,” says Zahra, 14, who has never attended a formal school. “I’ve never been inside a real classroom, but here I feel alive.”

Other girls recite prayers before leaving home. The classrooms are full of trembling hands, hushed voices – and extraordinary determination. These girls aren’t just breaking rules. They’re rebuilding a sense of self that’s been stripped away.

“Teaching in the dark and under threat isn’t courage – it’s survival,” says Aida. “We are not heroes. We are simply women who refuse to forget how to dream.”

The toll is physical and emotional, and relentless. The girls often struggle to stay alert during the day, and many parents wrestle with anxiety each night. But still, they continue. For many families, the choice is agonizing, but empowering.

Halima*, 16, has dark circles under her eyes from late nights spent studying. “I sleep only four hours,” she says, “but I don’t feel tired when I’m learning. I feel awake – finally.” She has dreams of becoming a nurse.

At first, her father was against her going, afraid for her safety, but he changed his mind when he saw her determination. “He said maybe education is worth more than fear.”

The underground schools survive through word of mouth, local networks and donations from NGOs. They are more than acts of defiance – they are living proof of an unshakable belief in the power of education.

As the world’s attention fades, Afghanistan’s women continue to risk everything to keep learning alive in the dark.

*Names have been changed to protect identities