With no path beyond sixth grade, some Afghan girls deliberately fail exams to remain in the classroom for one more year. Credit: Learning Together.
By External Source
KABUL, Mar 30 2026 (IPS)
It is almost unheard of for a student to deliberately fail final school exams for no apparent reason. Therefore, when 13-year old Sara (not her real name) from Mazar-i-Sharif in Afghanistan took her school report home to her parents, they were shocked to learn that the top-performing student had failed her final exams and would not advance to the next level. But there was no longer a next level for Sara, even if she had passed.
The Afghan calendar changes in March 2026. The year 1405 begins, and with it a new school year across the country.
For the fifth year running, girls have only been allowed to attend school up to sixth grade. After sixth grade, boys continue their studies, but girls aged 12–13 are no longer allowed to pursue further education or attend university.
As the new school year approaches, girls who have passed the sixth grade know they will not be allowed to return to the classroom. All that remains are memories of years spent at the desks and the friendships they made during their school years. For many, the end of school also marks the shipwreck of their dreams for the future.
However, some have found a pathway that is both bitter and hopeful. They leave their answer sheets blank to deliberately fail their final year exams, just to stay one more year albeit in the same class. It is the only chance to stay in a place where they can study and dream about the future.
“My sister says I’m lucky to still be in school, but I don’t feel happy. This is just a delaying battle. When this year ends, will I have to stay home and become a seamstress?”
Sara is one of those who have chosen to fail her final exams. She deliberately answered the exam questions incorrectly so that she would fail and be allowed to stay in school for another year.
Restricting girls’ education was one of the Taliban’s first orders in August 2021. In late 2022, the Taliban announced that universities would also be closed to girls and women “for the time being.” It was unclear how long the suspension would last.
Nearly four years later, “for the time being” is still in effect, and young women are still not allowed to study. They live in uncertainty and do not know what the future holds.
Sara lives in a middle-income family with her parents and five siblings. She is the fourth child.
Sara’s father works intermittently in construction, employed for a few months a year and unemployed the rest of the time. Sara’s mother is a seamstress, sewing clothes for the women in the area and contributing to the family income.
Sara’s parents have done everything they can to ensure that their children go to school. Her mother, who has never been to school herself, says:
“Sara’s father and I are both illiterate, and our greatest wish is for our children to receive an education. I work day and night as a seamstress so that my children have a better future and do not end up in the same hopeless situation as their father and me. My daughters in particular need to study, succeed, and be independent. But my eldest daughter has sadly been out of school for two years. She now works with me as a seamstress. I hope that my other two daughters and three sons will be able to complete school.”
Sara started school six years ago with enthusiasm and hope. She wipes her eyes with the edge of her scarf as she recounts her school journey with her older sister, Marwa.
“Every morning we woke up early. I carefully braided my hair, packed my books in my bag and walked to school with Marwa. It was less than half an hour to school. Classes started at eight. We used to spend four hours at school and walked back home together when school ended at noon”.
“Marwa and I talked on the way to school about how we would become doctors. But after sixth grade, my sister couldn’t go back to school. For the last two years, she has been helping our mother as a seamstress, and I don’t want that life. I want to be a doctor. That’s why I decided that I couldn’t stop schooling.”
Sara decided to rewrite her destiny, even if it was just for one year.
“To be honest, I had always tried to be the best in my class”, she continues. “So the decision to deliberately fail was incredibly difficult. But it was the only way I could stay in school. When I got my certificate after the exams and saw that I had failed some subjects, I felt both joy and sadness. I had failed, but I didn’t feel defeated. I get to study for one more year. I can still wear my black dress and white scarf and go to school”, she says.
Sara’s family was shocked when they learned she had failed her final exams. Her father stared at the report card repeatedly, as if searching for a mistake. Her mother could not believe it, as her daughter had always ranked at or near the top of her class.
“There was a silence at home that was heavier than any reprimand. I knew I had to tell them what I had done,” Sara recounts.
She pauses, then continues: “I told my parents that my failure was not an accident and that I had intentionally left some questions unanswered or answered them incorrectly. My father was completely shocked. He could not believe I had done it on purpose. He was very and asked me why I wanted to fail.”
His anger subsided when Sara explained her reason: she wanted to go to university like her brother.
Wiping tears with her scarf once more, Sara says she feels sorry for her parents, who worked hard in order for them to live comfortably, go to school, and have a future.
“I don’t know if my decision was right or wrong. My family eventually accepted that I would go back to school, but I feel like I disappointed them anyway.”
When school starts this year, Sara will return to the sixth grade. She will carry the same books and return to a classroom where her former classmates are no longer there.
“My sister says I’m lucky to still be in school, but I don’t feel happy. This is just a delaying battle. When this year ends, will I have to stay home and become a seamstress?”
This question concerns not only Sara, but millions of Afghan girls who have been denied the right to go to school and who ask every day: when will we learn again?
Denying girls an education is not merely an educational policy. It excludes half of the country’s population from public life and deprives them of the opportunity to build their own future and that of their nation.
The consequences are far-reaching, both socially and economically. Before long, women will no longer be working in the fields of medicine, education and social services. The impact is severe, as the absence of female professionals directly affects the health and well-being of millions.
Excerpt:
The author is an Afghanistan-based female journalist, trained with Finnish support before the Taliban take-over. Her identity is withheld for security reasonsThe UNFPA released a report detailing how women were suffering widespread mistreatment during childbirth across Eastern Europe and Central Asia. Credit: UNFPA
By Ed Holt
BRATISLAVA, Mar 30 2026 (IPS)
Government and medical professionals must implement systematic changes to deal with a “crisis” of obstetric violence (OV) across Eastern Europe and Central Asia (EECA), experts and rights campaigners have said.
The call comes as the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) released a report on March 12 detailing how women were suffering widescale mistreatment during childbirth across the region.
“This report is a wake-up call. All stakeholders must make sure that women’s rights are respected and protected in all facilities in the health system and beyond,” Tamar Khomasuridze, UNFPA Sexual and Reproductive Health Adviser for Eastern Europe and Central Asia, told Inter Press Service (IPS).
The report, Respectful Maternity Care: Women’s Experiences and Outlooks in Eastern Europe and Central Asia, highlighted what the UNFPA said was a “pervasive yet often hidden OV crisis that violates women’s fundamental human rights and dignity”.
The survey, which was based on online responses from over 2,600 women who gave birth recently and conducted across 16 countries and territories in the region, found that 67 percent of respondents reported at least one form of mistreatment, including non-consensual medical procedures, verbal and physical abuse, and significant breaches of privacy.
Nearly half (48.1 percent) of women underwent obstetric procedures – such as episiotomies, Caesarean sections, or the administration of oxytocin – without their informed consent.
Meanwhile, about 24 percent of surveyed women reported experiencing verbal abuse, including yelling and humiliation, and 1 in 10 endured physical or sexual abuse during labour or gynaecological examinations. For example, 12 percent of the surveyed women reported being physically restrained during labour, such as being tied to the bed or subjected to aggressive physical contact under the pretext of facilitating delivery. Just over 10 percent experienced different forms of sexual abuse, ranging from inappropriate touching to more severe forms of assault (disrespectful manipulation of the genitals).
The survey also revealed a massive lack of awareness of OV among women in the region – almost 54 percent of surveyed women said women were unfamiliar with the term “obstetric violence”. And of those that knew they were victims of OV, very few reported such incidents – only two percent of those mistreated officially reported their experience, often due to a lack of trust in accountability mechanisms or fear of retaliation.
Previous research into the extent of OV in the region is limited and experts say it is difficult to gauge whether the situation in the region has changed in recent years.
But campaigners say the report underlines that it remains a serious problem.
“Obstetric violence has always existed, but for a long time it remained invisible, normalised, and embedded within what was perceived as ‘standard medical practice’. The major shift over the past decade is not necessarily in the prevalence of the phenomenon but rather in its increased visibility at the public, legal, and institutional levels, including its inclusion on the global agenda of human rights and public health,” Alina Andronache, a gender public policy expert at the Partnership for Development Center (CPD) in Moldova, who helped author the UNFPA report, told IPS.
“The report outlines a mixed picture: recognition and visibility of the phenomenon are increasing, yet the prevalence of experiences of abuse, coercion, and lack of consent remains alarmingly high,” she added.
Rights activists say that the phenomenon is closely linked to the wider issue of prevalent attitudes to women in the region.
“The report clearly shows that obstetric violence is not merely an issue of inadequate medical practices but is deeply embedded in broader social and cultural structures—particularly gender discrimination, power imbalances between the patient and medical staff, rigid institutional hierarchies, and norms that socialise women to accept authority without questioning it, including in highly intimate and vulnerable contexts such as childbirth,” said Andronache.
She highlighted the report’s finding that 58.4 percent of respondents believe that a mother must accept any intervention for the benefit of the child, even if it may harm her, while 19.6 percent consider that doctors may take a decision without a woman’s consent to protect the child.
“These perceptions reflect a profound internalisation of the idea that women’s bodily autonomy can be suspended during childbirth in favour of a medical authority perceived as unquestionable. This internalisation has two major consequences: it legitimises abusive or coercive practices, which are no longer perceived as violations of rights but as ‘necessary’ or ‘medically justified’ interventions, and it directly contributes to underreporting and to the difficulty of recognising obstetric violence as such. If women are socialised to believe that they do not have the right to refuse, to ask questions, or to negotiate interventions, then their experiences are not necessarily identified as abuse but rather as a ‘normal’ part of childbirth,” she explained.
The report includes a call to action that outlines critical steps to address systemic problems with OV in the EECA states. These include legislation to protect women against OV; human rights-centred training for all healthcare personnel to shift clinical attitudes and ensure dignity is maintained at the point of service, as well as implementing monitoring and other measures to ensure accountability; and strengthening education and wider awareness of OV.
The UNFPA says its call to action has been endorsed by all countries in the survey and other stakeholders and will become part of action plans on OV at the national level.
But it is unclear how easy it will be to effect meaningful change, especially in a region where some countries have very conservative social cultures and wider problems with women’s rights.
The report showed that among respondents from Central Asian countries, such as Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan, around two thirds of women were unaware of OV. The report says this is due, in part, to traditional norms surrounding women’s roles and childbirth, which may make women less open to discussions about obstetric abuse.
Khomasuridze admitted that there were “of course sensitivities in different countries” in the region but was confident that with the help of various stakeholders, including civil society organisations, women’s rights groups and patient groups, changes would be implemented.
Andronache said that in countries where strongly conservative political policies and societal attitudes are prevalent, it was crucial that “the message be adapted to the context”.
“In more conservative societies, the approach should not be perceived as confrontational or ideological but rather framed as an issue of safety, dignity, and quality of care for both mother and child. Emphasising health, respect, and communication may be more readily accepted than a discourse focused exclusively on rights,” she said.
She added that it was essential that women be made aware of OV during their engagement with healthcare professionals – prenatal courses should be accessible and include, alongside medical information, clear explanations about women’s rights, informed consent, and what respectful care entails. ‘Meanwhile, information must reach those who need it most, she said — particularly in rural areas and in communities with more limited access to education.
“This requires simple messages, delivered in accessible languages and through channels that women already trust, including healthcare providers, community leaders, or other women sharing their experiences,” Andronache said.
“Awareness is built not only through the dissemination of information, but also through the creation of a space in which women feel able to ask questions, understand what is happening to them, and recognise when their rights are not being respected,” she added.
However, even in places where there is more awareness, serious problems with OV remain.
The study found that awareness of OV is higher in Eastern European countries, in part because advocacy initiatives regarding women’s rights during childbirth have contributed to increased visibility of the issue. Yet OV is widespread in some of these states.
In the survey the highest dissatisfaction rates with their childbirth experience were recorded among respondents from the Western Balkans (Albania, Serbia and Kosovo).
In 2022, a study by lawyers in Serbia found that women in the country are regularly subjected to various forms of violence at maternity clinics and hospitals, including not just verbal abuse and humiliation at the hands of staff, but violent physical examinations and invasive procedures without consent.
In January 2024, Marica Mihajlovic, a Roma woman, claimed that during labour her doctor jumped on her stomach, slapped her and racially abused her. Her baby died soon after birth.
A 2023 report on OV in Moldova included testimony from scores of OV victims, some of whom were left with serious physical and mental health issues afterwards.
As well as having to deal with the physical and mental damage of their experiences, victims of OV in the region also often face significant barriers to any redress for their suffering.
“Women who are aware of obstetric violence and would like to take action encounter, in reality, a form of distance—not only physical, but also emotional and institutional. In theory, reporting mechanisms should be ‘within reach’: easy to understand, accessible, and safe. In practice, in many countries this distance is far too great,” explained Andronache.
She said many women who want to report OV struggle with difficult and bureaucratic systems for doing so. Many are also put off by feelings that reporting what happened to them will not change anything or, worse, “that they would be placed in a position of having to prove their suffering, of being questioned, or even invalidated”.
“In the absence of clear and credible accountability mechanisms, reporting is not perceived as a solution, but as a long, uncertain, and emotionally draining process,” Andronache said.
Some also find that after a difficult or traumatic experience, they simply do not have the emotional resources to engage in a formal process. “They seek calm, recovery, and the ability to care for their child. The question ‘is it worth going through this?’ becomes very real,” said Andronache.
While the report identifies the scale of the OV crisis in the region and changes needed to reverse, or at least lessen it, fundamental improvement is not expected to come overnight, regardless of how enthusiastically governments embrace the UNFPA’s recommendations.
“Some changes can be implemented relatively quickly—for example, establishing clear and accessible reporting mechanisms, informing women, introducing more transparent procedures, or providing basic training for medical staff. These depend largely on political will and organisational capacity and can be achieved within a relatively short timeframe.
“However, the more difficult aspect is the transformation of mindsets—both within the medical system and in society at large. A deeper transformation to a system in which women feel safe to speak out and which responds with accountability and respect is a long-term process that may take a decade or more. At its core, this is a cultural shift, not merely a regulatory one,” said Andronache.
Khomasuridze agreed.
“We and our partners have a long way to go. Progress depends on action at the national level and we are very well positioned in [EECA] countries to accelerate progress, working with government, professional societies, civil societies, women’s groups, and patients’ groups to make sure that this transformative agenda is implemented,” she said.
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Credit: Ryan Brown/UN Women
By Inés M. Pousadela and Samuel King
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay / BRUSSELS, Belgium, Mar 30 2026 (IPS)
On 19 March, the Commission on the Status of Women (CSW) did something unprecedented in its eight-decade history: it held a vote. The Trump administration, having spent two weeks attempting to defer, amend and ultimately block the session’s main outcome document, known as the agreed conclusions, cast the only vote against its adoption. That dissenting vote said a lot, as it came from the world’s most powerful government, backed by financial leverage, bilateral reach and a network of anti-rights states and organisations that are making inroads at many levels.
Established in 1946, the CSW brings together 45 states each year to negotiate commitments that, while not legally binding, shape domestic legislation, set international norms and signal the direction of political will. Civil society plays an important role in it: the NGO Committee on the Status of Women coordinates thousands of organisations, from large international bodies to grassroots groups, with the aim of ensuring those most affected by policy have a seat at the table. For several decades, this has been the closest thing the world has to a dedicated annual intergovernmental negotiation on women’s rights.
The assault on gender equality
The Trump administration arrived at CSW70 having withdrawn from UN Women in January and from its Executive Board in February, citing opposition to what it calls ‘gender ideology’. It submitted eight amendments targeting language on reproductive health. When these didn’t succeed, it attempted to defer or withdraw the conclusions entirely. When that too failed, it voted against adoption and tabled a separate resolution seeking to impose a restrictive definition of gender, effectively attempting to rewrite 30 years of carefully negotiated commitments. Its resolution was blocked.
At the Munich Security Conference in February, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio defined western civilisation as bound together by Christian faith, shared ancestry and cultural heritage, an ideological approach that treats women’s equality, reproductive rights and LGBTQI+ rights not as human rights but ideological impositions to be rejected. The Trump administration’s financial muscle is now the delivery mechanism for this worldview.
Defunding as a weapon
The immediate material crisis at CSW70 was the collapse of funding. The elimination of 90 per cent of USAID contracts wiped out US$60 billion in foreign aid. The USA is instead negotiating bilateral deals with 71 countries under its ‘America First’ global health strategy, extending its global gag rule not just to civil society organisations but to recipient governments. This means any institution that receives US health funding must certify that neither it nor any organisation it works with promotes or provides abortion.
Funding will now flow through faith-based groups, with ultra-conservative Christian organisations such as the Alliance Defending Freedom and Family Watch International set to benefit, having spent years building networks across Africa, Asia and Latin America. They use the language of family values, parental rights and national sovereignty to consolidate conservative influence over laws affecting women, LGBTQI+ people and young people. In many countries, they already have direct access to governments while progressive organisations are routinely excluded.
With threats intensifying, the UN is signalling retreat. A proposal under the UN80 cost-cutting initiative to merge UN Women with the UN Population Fund (UNFPA) has alarmed civil society worldwide. The stated rationale is efficiency, but there’s little overlap between the two agencies and their combined budgets make up a small part of the UN’s overall spending, suggesting savings would be modest. It’s hard to escape the conclusion that the targeting of these organisations reflects the increasing contestation of their rights-based mandates rather than any logic of organisational efficiency.
Over 500 civil society organisations signed an open letter to UN Secretary-General António Guterres warning that, when sexual and reproductive health rights are absorbed into broader mandates, they risk ‘being deprioritised, underfunded, or rendered politically invisible’. Some states have urged caution but so far none has committed to blocking the merger.
Civil society holds the line
In difficult times, over 4,600 civil society delegates attended CSW70 and made their presence count. They took the floor to name structural barriers and demand accountability: youth representatives challenged the normalisation of online violence, Pacific Island delegates described how geography compounds the denial of justice for survivors, and activists from Haiti documented the labour exploitation of migrant domestic workers. They all emphasised that when women’s rights organisations are restricted or defunded, survivors lose their primary pathway to justice.
The NGO CSW Forum hosted over 750 events alongside the official session. But not everyone could participate. US visa restrictions meant several women’s rights activists, particularly from the global south, couldn’t enter the country. This is a worsening problem that limits civil society’s ability to engage.
CIVICUS’s newly released 2026 State of Civil Society Report documents exactly what civil society has been up against: institutions built to protect women’s rights under sustained, coordinated attack, their funding cut, their mandates targeted and the human rights values they are built on reopened for revision. CSW70’s agreed conclusions offer hope, committing states to action on AI governance, discriminatory laws, digital justice, labour rights, legal aid and the formal recognition of care workers. But as the contest over them made plain, political will is running low and the anti-rights community is emboldened. Civil society left CSW70 without losing ground – and this seems to be the measure of success in the regressive times we live in.
Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Head of Research and Analysis, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report. She is also a Professor of Comparative Politics at Universidad ORT Uruguay.
Samuel King is a researcher with the Horizon Europe-funded research project ENSURED: Shaping Cooperation for a World in Transition at CIVICUS: World Alliance for Citizen Participation.
For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org
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