Radio Begum: A radio station for Afghan women by Afghan women

Radio Begum

Radio Begum

Radio Begum

Radio Begum, based in Taliban-controlled Kabul, broadcasts the voices of Afghan women who have been silenced.

Women-produced programs, such as instructional shows, book readings, and call-in counseling, overwhelm the airwaves.

For the time being, they operate with the consent of the hardline Islamists. They retook power in August and have restricted women’s capacity to work and girls’ access to education.

“We’re not giving up,” pledged 48-year-old Hamida Aman. She is the station’s founder. She grew up in Switzerland after her family fled Afghanistan a few years after the Soviet Union invaded.

“We have to show that we don’t need to be scared,” said Aman. Aman returned after the ousting of the Taliban’s first regime in 2001 by US-led foreign forces.

“We must occupy the public sphere.”

Radio Begum: Vessel for women’s voices

This year’s station launched on March 8th, International Women’s Day. Five months before the Taliban marched into Kabul and declared victory against the US-backed government.

It continues to broadcast across Kabul and the neighboring territories, as well as live on Facebook, from a working-class neighborhood.

“Begum” was a noble title used in South Asia. It now generally refers to a married Muslim woman. 

“This station is a vessel for women’s voices, their pain, their frustrations,” Aman said.

In September, the Taliban agreed to let the broadcaster stay on the airwaves, but with new restrictions.

The ten or so employees of Radio Begum used to share an office with male coworkers from a youth radio station.

They are now separated. Each gender has its level, and in front of the women’s office, a wide opaque curtain has come.

Traditional tunes and “quieter music” have taken the role of pop music, according to Aman.

Staff members, meanwhile, described employment at the station as a “privilege”. Many female government employees prevented from are returning to their jobs.

Many of the Taliban’s policies are yet to be finalized, leaving gaps in how they would apply around the country.

Since the takeover, the majority of public secondary schools for girls are not open.

The radio studio, however, resembles a classroom twice a day.

When reporters arrived, six girls and three boys, all between the ages of 13 and 14, were engrossed in their books as the presenter delivered an on-air lesson on social justice.

“Social justice is opposed to extremism,” says the 19-year-old teacher, a student of journalism until a few months ago.

“What is justice in Islam?” she asked.

“Women who are illiterate are like blind people”

Since the Taliban closed several secondary schools, Mursal, a 13-year-old girl, has been going to the studio to learn.

“My message to girls who can’t go to school is to listen to our program carefully, to use this golden chance and opportunity,” she said.

“They may not have it again.”

Adults can also take on-air lessons.

In one of these lessons, station director Saba Chaman, 24, read Michelle Obama’s book in Dari.

She’s especially proud of a show where listeners can call in for psychological help.

According to the former education ministry, only 18 percent of Afghan women were literate in 2016, compared to 62 percent of men.

“Women who are illiterate are like blind people,” one woman who cannot read said on air.

“When I go to the pharmacy they give me expired medication. If I could read they wouldn’t do it.”

Aman spoke with Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid a few months after the Taliban took power and assured him that the radio was “working to give a voice to women.”

She described him as “very encouraging.”

However, the future remains unknown.

Tolo News, the country’s main independent television network, stated in September that more than 150 outlets had closed due to limitations and financial difficulties.

Radio Begum no longer collects advertisement income.

If they don’t receive funds within three months, the voices of these women would be silent on Afghanistan’s airwaves, according to Chaman.

“My only cause for hope at the moment is knowing that I’m doing something important in my life to help Afghan women.”

Exit mobile version