My name is Mashal Qarizada. I am a 24-year-old artist, art teacher, and Girl Up leader from Kabul, Afghanistan.
After finishing high school, I entered the Faculty of Fine Arts at Kabul University in 2021 (1400 in the Afghan calendar). I joined with love and excitement, even though the Taliban had just returned to power. During that first year, I studied under immense pressure, facing opposition from my family and harassment from the Taliban, simply because I was a girl seeking an education. But my love for art was stronger than fear.

When the Taliban officially banned girls from universities, my world collapsed. I fell into a deep depression. Art and education weren’t just interests, they were my identity, my hope, and my future. Later, I learned that the Kabul Art Institute had begun accepting female students again. I joined in 2023 (1402), but just one month later, it was shut down again. Every door felt like it was slamming shut in my face.
Still, I didn’t give up.
I secretly attended private art courses, walking long distances to avoid being seen and hiding my materials. Eventually, even those were banned. So I created my own space. I started teaching art inside my home. With limited money, I bought basic supplies and began with just a few girls.
Later, I rented a small shop and turned it into a workshop. It became more than a classroom – it was a symbol of resistance, hope, and creativity in the darkest times.
But the space didn’t last. The Taliban found out and shut it down. They refused to issue me a license, simply because I was a girl. After many efforts, I quietly reopened the workshop and continued teaching in secret. Now, it’s been four years since I started teaching art – despite fear, financial hardship, and constant restrictions.
I want to tell every girl: Don’t give up. Even if every door is closed, build your own.
To me, art is not just painting. It is a voice. A form of healing. A way to stay alive. A connection to a world that has forgotten us.
At night, when I sit alone, I think about all that I’ve lost. I see girls my age in other countries studying in universities, holding exhibitions, living freely, and I ask myself, “Why not me?”
It’s not that I lacked talent. It’s not that I didn’t try. I was simply born in a country where being a girl is treated like a crime.
I’ve always dreamed of studying abroad, to pursue a master’s degree. I dreamed of going to France, the heart of art and creativity, and studying at one of its top fine arts universities. I also wanted to study psychology and combine it with art to show how creativity can be a therapy and a tool for healing.




I carried big dreams in a small heart.
But life here has made dreaming feel like a luxury.
No doors were open to me, only this small home-based course, a few students, and the blank canvases I continue to bring to life, day after day.
Right now, I’ve placed all my hope into this small artistic work, believing that one day, I will be free to study, not in fear, but in joy. Not in secret, but with pride.
My dream is for my art to become a bridge to freedom, a voice for every girl whose rights have been stolen.
And I have not stopped being that voice.
Throughout this journey, I’ve only had one true supporter – my fiancé. He was also a student at the Faculty of Fine Arts, but the Taliban abolished the department, forcing him to stop his education as well. Yet, he stood beside me. Every time we had to start from zero, he encouraged me to continue.
My goal has never been personal success alone. I want to be the voice of Afghan girls. I want to raise awareness through my art, to show the world our pain, our resilience, and our determination.
My art is my protest. My healing. My message. And my way of saying: We are still here. We are still fighting.
Thank you for reading my story. If there is any opportunity for collaboration, I would be honored to work with you, to keep this small flame alive, both for myself and for the next generation of Afghan girls.
I would also love to share more about the deeper purpose behind my artistic and educational work, and why I believe art is such a powerful force.
My goal is to create opportunities for growth and empowerment among children and youth, especially girls, in the challenging context of Afghanistan. I believe art is not just a form of expression,it is a bridge to education, confidence, and a brighter future.
To me, art is not just painting.
Mashal Qarizada, 24
It is a voice. A form of healing.
A way to stay alive. A connection to a world that has forgotten us.
Art has great value, especially for mental health. It helps people express emotions in nonverbal ways, reduce stress, and cope with life’s pressures. Engaging in creative activities brings hope and joy, strengthens self-awareness, and builds a sense of peace and belonging. These benefits contribute to personal well-being as well as to social empowerment.
In a country filled with restrictions and discrimination, I strive to offer a safe, open space where young people can learn freely, discover their inner strengths, and gain the power to make their own choices. I want to show that with love, hope, and support, barriers can be broken, and lasting change is possible.
My goal is not only to pass on artistic skills, but also to inspire the next generation to be curious, to think freely, and to believe in a more just and equal world.
With deepest respect,
Mashal Qarizada
Artist & Art Teacher | Kabul, Afghanistan
Club Member of Girl Up Starverse