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CRY FREEDOM.net
Welcome to cryfreedom.net,
formerly known as Womens Liberation Front.
A website
that hopes to draw and keeps your attention for both the global 21th. century 3rd. feminist revolution as well
as especially for the Zan, Zendegi, Azadi uprising in Iran and the
struggles of our sisters in other parts of the Middle East. This online magazine
that started December 2019 will
be published every 2 days. Thank you for your time and interest.
'WOMEN, LIFE, FREEDOM'
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Click here for earlier Straight of the Trenches
stories
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May 8 - 6, 2025 |
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When one hurts or kills a women
one hurts or kills hummanity and is an antrocitie.
Gino d'Artali
and: My mother (1931-1997) always said to me <Mi
figlio, non esistono notizie <vecchie> perche puoi imparare qualcosa da
qualsiasi notizia.> Translated: <My son, there is no such thing as so
called 'old' news because you can learn something from any news.>
Gianna d'Artali.


pic
pEN VS
Zantimes - May 7, 2025 - By: Khadija Haidary
{Opinion
‘Please don’t use my name’: A journalist struggles to report under
Taliban rule
To research a report about a lively school in Kabul, I asked for help on
WhatsApp, Facebook Stories, and Instagram: “If you graduated from this
school or know someone who has a connection to it, please let me know.”
No one responded except for one person on Instagram, who insisted I not
mention their name. I assured them I wouldn’t, but I could sense their
anxiety. Even though that person had left Afghanistan five years ago,
they remained cautious — perhaps out of concern for family still in the
country. Days passed, and my research for the report wasn’t progressing,
so I asked colleagues in Kabul to visit the school. One reported back
that the teachers were too afraid to cooperate with the media. Two
teachers gave their phone numbers, but when our colleague called, they
asked for her personal details and address. Out of caution, she asked me
to speak with them directly. I messaged each teacher separately,
introducing myself and explaining what I needed. I also included links
to several of my published stories. One of them enabled WhatsApp’s
message timer to auto-delete our chats. After a delay, the second
replied with a short three-line message, ending with “I am now a
housebound woman.” She wanted to speak, but fear held her back. I
messaged our colleague in Kabul: “Why are the teachers at this school
being so cautious?” She replied that women teachers had become extremely
careful. After living for nearly four years under Taliban rule, people
have become extremely cautious of what they say and are growingly
fearful of talking to the media. In addition, many believe that nothing
good can come of talking to the media and that the only consequence
would be having their stories turned into gossip fodder on Facebook and
in casual conversations. On April 22, the Taliban leader issued an order
eliminating 90,000 positions from the Ministry of Education. Teachers
had heard rumours that the cuts were coming. They believed they could
avoid danger by staying silent. “What more is there for teachers at
girls’ schools to lose that they are so afraid to speak?” I asked a
colleague. Videos of teachers’ interviews and school events from five
years ago are still on YouTube. Back then, students and teachers spoke
proudly of their jobs and school environment. They laughed freely. Now,
fear of the Taliban is lodged deep in people’s minds. In preparing a
report on the fate of female university professors in Afghanistan, we
spoke with more than 20 women academics across the country and those
living elsewhere. At the beginning of one interview, a professor from
northeastern Afghanistan insisted that her name and the province not be
mentioned. “It’s a small town. Believe me, one of our acquaintances was
imprisoned for a year just because of a Facebook post,” she explained.
None of the professors wanted us to use any identifying information,
such as their ages, names, provinces, universities, fields of study,
departments, or even the country where they earned their master’s
degree. One said, “There’s only one job left in my name — I don’t want
to lose that, too.” An elderly professor with grandchildren repeatedly
mentioned her fear of the Taliban as well as her concern that her family
would blame her if they discovered that she’d given an interview. Two
weeks before the layoffs that were announced on April 22, the media
reported that the Taliban was eliminating 14 percent of positions at the
Ministry of Higher Education. For those job cuts, the Taliban leader
emphasized that the layoffs would target those who were not reporting to
work, meaning the primary victims would be female professors as Taliban
decrees have prevented them from returning to their jobs. Fear that
talking to the media will invite Taliban retaliation is everywhere in
Afghanistan. We were also preparing a report about the death of a woman
named Gul Bibi in Takhar province. She had died of injuries sustained
during a beating by the Taliban. Interviewees requested that their
identities be fully protected because the Taliban were monitoring local
residents and had imprisoned five people from the district for filming
and sharing interviews with Gul Bibi’s family members. Her son was also
tortured and jailed indefinitely after he spoke directly to the media.
Fearing for the safety of those we’d talked to, we decided to stop
further investigation into the violent death of Gul Bibi. Even
recounting personal tragedies can be dangerous. A friend informed me
about the death of her 22-year-old relative, who died from kidney
complications. The family was unable to find a donor because the Taliban
had banned the buying and selling of kidneys in Afghanistan. After I
asked her to write something about this girl, she replied, “No! Her
family won’t allow it. People are afraid of the Taliban.” A sense of
hopelessness is spreading. “What’s the point?” asked a woman affected by
Donald Trump’s order suspending the U.S. refugee assistance program,
which has stranded 200,000 Afghan migrants in Pakistan, Qatar, and
Albania. Her question stayed with me for days. What is the point? Yet,
after the report was eventually published, I discovered that there are
people in this world who do care about the fate and lives of others.
Many reached out, asking how they could help. If that woman had shared
her story instead of asking that pointed question, her voice might have
been recorded, shared — and perhaps heard. According to Deutsche Welle,
the Taliban have extended their ban of the display of living beings to
14 provinces. And while a few women still work in Kabul’s media outlets,
they could suffer the same fate – banishment – just as is already
occurring in other provinces. The Taliban are systematically
transforming the 35 million people in Afghanistan into hostages to their
whims.
Khadija Haidary is Zan Times journalist.}
Source:
https://zantimes.com/2025/05/07/please-dont-use-my-name-a-journalist-struggles-to-report-under-taliban-rule/
Zantimes - May 6, 2025 - By: Rad Radan
{Reports
‘Whipped in front of everyone’: three women on being flogged by the
Taliban
Since the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, public floggings,
executions, imprisonment without trial, and state-sanctioned humiliation
have become a commonplace in Afghanistan. More than 1,050 people have
been flogged in public, including at least 200 women, according to court
records and media reports. The true numbers are likely much higher.
Among those punished are women accused of so-called ‘moral crimes’ which
includes leaving home without a male guardian or mahram, being seen
alone in public or speaking to unrelated men. Zan Times spoke to three
women who said they had been flogged by Taliban over the past two years
for alleged moral crimes, which they had been forced to confess.
Deeba: ‘They whipped me in front of everyone’
In the absence of her husband who went to work in Iran, 38-year-old
Deeba, says she is the sole provider for her seven children. She is a
tailor and sews men’s clothes in her home and goes out alone to deliver
them. In the past two years, she has been arrested twice by the
Taliban’s Vice and Virtue enforcers. The first arrest happened when she
was renting a sewing machine from an unrelated man. She says she was
beaten, called “prostitute” and forced to spend four nights in jail. The
second time came about three months later when she was sitting in a
sandwich shop charging her phone. She was wearing a long coat and a
large shawl, but the Taliban Vice and Virtue enforcers still stopped
her. “They said, ‘Why are you unveiled? Why are you alone without a
mahram?’ I told them, ‘The earthquake has made it hard to go home.
There’s no electricity. That’s why I came here to charge my phone and
grab a sandwich.’” Her answer provoked the Taliban even further. “They
kicked the sandwich shop owner out of his own place and slapped him,
shouting, ‘Why did you let this woman into your store? What relationship
do you have with her?’ When I saw them treating him like that, I argued
with them.” Two days later, she was arrested and taken to the Taliban
custody and accused of insulting Taliban’s religious scholars [vice and
virtue enforcers], plus being a woman without a mahram spotted outside
her home. She was thrown into prison and held for 20 days. “There were
15 of us in one cell. Four beds. The rest slept on the floor. They
weren’t giving us food. The blankets were filthy. I asked for my phone
to call home because my daughter was sick and they didn’t know I was
arrested, but the Taliban refused. I screamed, begged. But instead they
threw me into a solitary cell.” Eventually, Deeba was brought to a
Taliban court. No lawyer was representing her. The judge convicted her
of appearing without a male guardian and insulting religious scholars.
She was sentenced to 25 lashes. “They took me to a public place, covered
my head, and whipped me in front of everyone,” she says. Deeba says she
was then detained for another two days to ensure some of the wound
recovers. Since returning home, Deeba says she has struggled with the
humiliation of the public flogging and is on medication to cope with her
trauma. “When I was released, even my closest friends started treating
me differently. They called me names and spoke about me with such
disgust because they’d been told lies about what happened. “I have
nothing more to say, it was just so hard. Unbearably hard. Can anyone
understand what it’s like to be slapped in front of a crowd, punched in
front of people, covered up and flogged in public?”
Sahar: ‘They made me confess that I had done something wrong’
Sahar*, 22, was very sick last year. Her father worked in Iran and her
mother ran a carpet-weaving workshop in a village in western
Afghanistan. There was no one to take her to the clinic, where two of
her uncles were working. Her mother called her male cousin to drive her.
The Taliban stopped their vehicle just before reaching the clinic and
asked about their relationship.
“When we said we are cousins, but we weren’t married, they became
aggressive. They beat my cousin, smashed our phones, and forced me to
hide on the floor of the Taliban truck as they drove me to their
station,” says Sahar. She says she was then taken to a detention center.
“I was terrified, crying, and I couldn’t breathe. I told them I was sick
and asked for some medicine. That’s when they slapped me and kicked me
several times. One of them said, ‘If you raise your voice again, we’ll
kill both you and your cousin.’” Sahar says she was interrogated by a
veiled woman. “She asked who my cousin was, whether I was a virgin,
whether we had a relationship. I said no. She warned me that I have to
confess and if I didn’t obey, I’d be tortured.” The next day, Sahar and
her cousin were brought before a Taliban court, where she says she was
forced to falsely claim she had a relationship with her cousin. She had
no lawyer. Despite the presence of relatives who testified that they
were family, the Taliban refused to recognise their relationship as
“mahram” and permissible. “They made me confess, in front of my mother,
my uncles, that I had done something wrong. I didn’t want to say it. But
they hit me, threatened my cousin. I was terrified,” she says. Sahar
says she was sentenced to 30 lashes and her cousin to 70. “They used
loudspeakers to announce our punishment. My little sister was there. She
used to say I was her role model. I saw her crying in the crowd. That
broke me.” After returning home, Sahar says she was eventually forced to
leave her village. “After this happened, people’s view of us changed
completely. Even if 50 people didn’t believe the accusation, 100 others
did. That forced us to leave our home and move to the city.”
Karima: ‘We couldn’t leave until the wounds healed’
A similar story happened to 18-year-old Karima* in another western
province. In 2023, while 16, she says she was traveling with her male
cousin to buy sewing supplies for her mother when the Talian stopped
them. “We were stopped on the road. The Taliban asked for our IDs. I
told them he was my cousin, but they said, ‘That’s not a valid mahram.
You don’t have the right to be with him.’ They arrested us on the spot”.
Karima says she spent two months in prison and suffered panic attacks
and hallucinations. “I blacked out. When I woke up, my wrists were
handcuffed and bleeding, and a prisoner told me they had tied me down
and stepped on me”. “Sick prisoners weren’t allowed to see doctors. Some
died in that place. If someone spoke back, they’d be chained and made to
lie down while others were ordered to walk over them. Karima says both
she and her cousin were flogged in the town square of the city where
they lived. She was whipped 39 times and her cousin received 50. They
were then taken back to prison. “They kept us for another week. They
said we couldn’t leave until the wounds healed. They didn’t want anyone
to see what they had done.” When she was finally released, she says
Taliban officials told her she was banned from leaving the country.
“‘You’re being watched,’ they told me, ‘You’re not allowed to go
abroad.’” However, like Sahar and Deeba she suffered the humiliation of
people staring at her and whispering upon returning to her home village
was forced to relocate to a different city in Afghanistan.
The names in this article have been changed to protect their security.
Rad Radan is pen name of a freelance journalist. This report has been
published in partnership with the Guardian.}
Source:
https://zantimes.com/2025/05/06/whipped-in-front-of-everyone-three-women-on-being-flogged-by-the-taliban/
Women's
Liberation Front 2019/cryfreedom.net 2025