Hope Is A Verb - Shabana Basij Rasikh- Educating the future of Afghanistan

Episode Date: June 15, 2023

Meet Shabana Basij-Rasikh, the founder of SOLA, Afghanistan’s first and only boarding school for girls who evacuated and relocated the entire school community from Kabul to Rwanda during the Taliban takeover in 2021. Today, SOLA is the only place in the world where Afghan girls have access to a full education. In this conversation, Shabana shares her memories of growing up under the first Taliban regime and the courage of her students and staff during the school’s emergency evacuation in 2021. She gives us a glimpse into daily life on the SOLA campus in Rwanda, her plans to empower and educate as many Afghan girls as she can and why we can’t turn away from the girls who remain in Afghanistan.  FIND OUT MORE:  ⁠www.sola-afghanistan.org⁠ ⁠https://www.facebook.com/sola.afghanistan⁠ ⁠https://twitter.com/solaafghanistan⁠ ⁠https://www.instagram.com/sola.afghanistan/⁠ We are proud to have SOLA as a Future Crunch charity partner and we’d like to thank our paying newsletter subscribers for their ongoing support. We donate a third of our subscription fees to support under the radar charities that are helping people and the planet. If you’re interested in becoming a subscriber, you can find out more at ⁠www.futurecrunch.com⁠ This episode of “Hope Is A Verb” was hosted by Angus Hervey, Co-Founder of Future Crunch and Amy Davoren-Rose, Creative Director of Future Crunch.  The soundtrack for this podcast is “Rain,” composed and performed by ⁠El Rey Miel⁠ from their upcoming album "Sea the Sky". Audio sweetening by Anthony Badolato- Ai3 Audio and Voice.  Special thanks to Tane Hunter, Sarah Green, Tim Green, Lisa Taylor, Teresa Bendzinski and our wonderful subscribers to the Future Crunch newsletter for helping us to make this happen.  We would like to acknowledge that HOPE IS A VERB is recorded on the lands of the Gadigal, Wurundjeri and Woi Wurrung People. These conversations are inspired by our charity partners and our Humankind Project that celebrates the people who are stitching our world back together.  If you want to contact us, send an email at [e-mail] Transcriptions will be available on our website soon. 

Hi, welcome to Hope is a Verb, a podcast from Future Crunch that explores what it takes to change the world through conversations with the people that are making it happen. I'm Amy. I'm Gus, and these are the unknown heroes who are mending our planet, stitching together a better future, and showing us the best of what it is to be human. When I look at solar and let that be my lens through which I look at the future of Afghanistan, I am filled with hope and possibility. hope and possibility.

Few of us will ever forget hearing those reports in August 2021 that the Taliban had seized Afghanistan again. As we watched those scenes of people trying to flee the country, we could feel the hope drain out of the world. Our worst fears were for Afghan women and girls who lost their right to safety, to work, to leave their house or to continue their education. In an instant, two decades of progress that had encouraged 3.6 million girls

to a role in primary and secondary school, evaporated. However, what none of us realized was that among the frantic airport crowds in Kabul were the young students of SOLA, Afghanistan's first and only boarding school for girls. The school's founder, 33-year-old Shabana Bash Rashid, was on the Taliban's hit list, and she knew all too well the odds that were stacked against her school community because she had grown up under the previous Taliban regime. And yet Shabana and her team managed to evacuate and relocate 256 students, teachers, and staff to Rwanda, a country where the school had previously planned

to spend a semester abroad, not knowing it would become a permanent refuge. Today, SOLA, which stands for School of Leadership Afghanistan, has set up their new campus in a former hotel and it stands as the only physically functioning school in the world where Afghan girls can receive a full education. In Shabana's words, it's a transplanted tree rooting down in new soil. We couldn't think of a better person to launch this series.

It is our pleasure to welcome our first guest, Shabana Bashroshi. Shabana, welcome to the podcast. It is so lovely to have you here. Thank you so much for having me. Welcome, Shabana. So we love to kick these conversations off with a question that we ask all of our guests, which is, can you share a new story that has inspired hope for you recently? Yeah, I will make it even more personal. Just a little over a month ago, we launched our second admission season at SOLA since we've started operating as an Afghan boarding school in exile out of Rwanda. And within a month, we have received

close to 700 applications. And by the time we close admission season in about a month from today, I anticipate that number to grow significantly. but across the Afghan refugee community and the larger diaspora community around the world, despite all the challenges and hurdles that they face, they don't give up. A great reminder that if Afghan girls are not giving up, we have so much responsibility to do best by them and for them. It must be simultaneously so exciting and yet the feeling of such a such a responsibility to all of those hopes and dreams. It is and like I just earlier when we're

talking I mentioned what this feels like is both you know inspiring but equally heartbreaking because I know the reality as a boarding school, we can only take a handful of these students this academic year. But what it does is it gives so much more meaning and life to our strategic priorities for the next five years. We know and we understand that as a boarding school, we can only bring so many Afghan girls at a time to a boarding school for Afghan girls in Rwanda. And because of that, we've been planning on how do we bring this education to Afghan girls,

to where they are, whether they are in Afghanistan or in refugee communities in neighbouring countries. And that's what we are working fast and furious on. And we really cannot wait to roll out those programs so that we can make sure that Afghan girls have access to education, especially right now. to education, especially right now. Before we dive in to the work that you're doing with SOLO, we'd actually love to hear a little about your story because you were six years old when the Taliban took over Afghanistan in the 90s.

What are your memories of that time? It's interesting that you ask me this question because someone else asked me this the other day. I've been talking about my childhood growing up under the Taliban regime for years now, but I have not been thinking about it the same way since the collapse of Afghanistan to the Taliban control. It's been far more pronounced

and it has been consuming so much of my thinking on a daily basis. And I think back to that time and I compare it to what the situation is like today for Afghan girls. And there's obviously so much heartbreak. And I think about studying in secrecy. I remember how much of that was normalized in my day-to-day life until much later when I realized after the fall of the first Taliban regime that most of my childhood growing up under the Taliban regime was unfair. But during that time, I did not realize that. What I remember is that life was basic and simple and yet dangerous. The days were long and quiet and peaceful

and yet filled with fear. And so on a very, very detailed day-to-day basis, parts of it was going and walking to and from secret school. But there are other parts of it where I got to play outside in our street with other kids and had lots of fun. and had lots of fun climbing trees, flying kites, trying to get away quietly and secretly. My brother and I from my mom wanting us to take afternoon naps. And as soon as she fell asleep, we would get out and climb the rooftop and fly kites. And I remember those memories too. And I even remember having a lot of fun in the secret school. in our lives who, whether purposefully or without even intending to, made that time fun for us.

It wasn't all about fear of secretly studying under the Taliban. I remember it all and I want to make sure that I remember it all because that's what it's easy to forget or to not think about when you are outside. And that's me right now. I am outside of Afghanistan looking in. It's natural to then think about grief and sadness and lack of opportunities. And then in the process of it, it's easy to lose hope. And for people who only look at that aspect of life in Afghanistan, to then throw their hands up in the air and say, nothing can be done for those people in Afghanistan.

And, you know, we tried, look at the past 20 years. And I want to look beyond that. And I want to remember the simplicity and the beauty of life and the normalcy of life and the resilience of people without romanticizing about it. And that people continue to take on risks, to provide access to education for girls, that women continue to fight for their rights, that women knowing very well that as they go out and march in the streets of Afghanistan, as they raise their voices for justice and for equality and as they demand their access to their Islamic right to education and to work,

they know the risk. They know that they could be killed and yet they go out and do that. So girls were banned from school when you were growing up as they are now. And your parents dressed you as a boy and you attended these secret classes, why was education so important to your parents, especially in the face of such danger and risk? You know, as I respond to your question,

I hope your listeners think about your question as well and think about how they would handle a situation like that if they ever were to be in that kind of a circumstance. And you begin to realize that there is so much that is so universal about human beings. is so much that is so universal about human beings. All parents, no matter where they live, they all want the best for their children. It is that simple and basic. So whether you are a parent in the United States or Australia or Afghanistan or countries in between, if there's one thing that we all know that they share, it's that they want the best for their children. And for my parents, it was that simple. They felt that the risk was greater in raising daughters without an education than risking our lives to get us educated. Shabana, I want to move on and talk a little bit about your decision to start SOLAR.

Was there a definitive moment or a catalyst? Was it a series of moments? I'd love to hear a little bit more about the inspiration for starting a school for girls. There were several moments or catalysts of moments, if you will. And I think some of those moments I feel pretty strongly about in reflection and a couple of moments that were seriously, those kinds of moments where, okay, I've got to do this. This is it. And, you know, I've talked quite a bit about how the first day I attended public school as a 12-year-old girl.

This was right after the fall of Taliban regime, serving as one of those moments. A true realization on my part about the incredible investment from my parents' side on my education or in my education under the Taliban regime. Because growing up, I didn't quite appreciate it until I found myself attending a public school for the first time and found myself in a classroom with other Afghan girls who were at least six years older than I was. And that's where I'd realized how profound that investment was from my parents' side to send me and my sister to a secret school. And so my appreciation, not only for what my parents did really grew, but I truly started to view education as they had intended it for me. My ticket to freedom, to a life of dignity, my independence as a human being, my ability to think for myself and to be free. And I couldn't look at it any other way.

I knew that that was the difference between me and another girl born in another family or circumstances where she didn't have the same kind of access to education as I did. It wasn't that I as an individual was any better than her. It was that my opportunities made life better and easier for me. And I could never shake that understanding ever since. It was quite profound for me to realize that on my own at that young age. Up until that point, I remember studying or taking my studies seriously to make my parents happy because I knew it mattered for them. But since then, it was and there was a purpose. And I was fortunate to align it closely to what my parents intended it, which was to have the opportunity to serve others. Then another moment was leaving Afghanistan at a young age.

I was 15 to study in the United States as a high school exchange student. And that was so profound. I mean, the difference between life and opportunities in Afghanistan and the United States was just so enormous. And for me to find myself in this country and our shared history, especially recent history, was just so remarkable. And for the first time realizing that not all girls who go to school live with the constant fear of losing access to their education. That was just so, I mean, it was such a mind-blowing realization for me.

It inspired me, quite frankly. It was so new and so refreshing for me that girls could live in a society where they don't have to waste a second on this idea that their access to education can be taken away from them because they are girls. because they are girls. And I found that like the future, you know, and I wanted that for, for Afghan girls. And I didn't at that time quite know how, but I knew that I wanted that. And, and then finally I started my freshman year. I was 17 years old. This was 2007. I started my freshman year. I was 17 years old. This was 2007. And when I learned that same year, the UN published a report that said only 6% of Afghan women have the equivalent of an undergraduate

education, a bachelor's degree. I knew that I was one of the most privileged Afghan women, becoming a member of an even smaller group of incredibly privileged Afghan women. And it was the discomfort of my access to opportunities and resources were just continuously growing and growing and I quite couldn't keep it for myself like why me what have I done to deserve this and I think that led to the formation of Sola as an organization but Sola became a boarding school years later, a full-fledged boarding school. And this was even when I co-founded Sola, I thought it would be a side project. I would always open access for Afghan girls to study in some of the best institutions in the world.

And I could do this on the side all the time. And I could do this on the side all the time. But then when I found myself in Afghanistan after I graduated from college and went back to the country, I took a job as a World Bank consultant working on one of the largest World Bank-funded rural rehabilitation and development projects with a focus on making sure that women were equal participants and beneficiaries. And it was there and in that work when I was reminded by educated colleagues who engaged in conversations about how women lacked brain capacity to hold certain kind of jobs or to handle certain kind of jobs or we couldn't hire women because they needed then maternity leave or etc etc that really so shocked me that I said okay this is it I really need to get focused on educating and producing to our society continuously some of the most educated

individuals, in this case, young women, who by just purely being themselves in the workspace, smart, educated, skilled, highly skilled, their presence alone will counter so much of these narratives that exist even among the educated Afghan, and especially in this case, Afghan men. And that's where I'd really fixated on turning Sola from a scholarship program. There were a couple of other reasons for that too. I was concerned about brain drain at that time too. But this was another reason as to, okay, I need to turn Sola into a boarding school in Afghanistan and get into the production of smart talent locally and then really push against some of these stereotypes and misconceptions in that way. So this amazing journey that you sort of have been on, the catalyst for SOLAR, the decision to start it,

and then obviously the expansion and kind of dedication to doing it full time. You get to the beginning of 2021 and SOLAR is thriving, construction is underway on a new campus in Kabul. When did the safety of your school start to become a concern and when did you think that things may change drastically again? Well, the safety of our school was always a matter of concern. It was actually to a point where every decision that I made on behalf of SOLA, I always looked at it through a security and safety lens.

Would doing X or Y or Z in any way jeopardize the safety of our students and our faculty and staff involved? To a point where that was my primary lens through which I made decisions on behalf of the institution. Every time there was an attack on institutions in Afghanistan, whether that was American University of Afghanistan or other organizations, I studied those very closely and then made decisions based on that. Also, making sure that we balanced it in a way where it didn't impact the day-to-day experiences of our students. They wanted them to feel like they were in a school in the business of learning and having a good time. You know we're looking at a series of decisions made politically both in Afghanistan and outside of Afghanistan. But the one that really made it quite obvious for me was the April 2021 decision by the U.S. government

to unconditionally withdraw troops from Afghanistan. I knew that it was going to be a matter of time before it would be reckless and irresponsible to operate an all-girls boarding school in Kabul City. What was meant to be a kind of planned departure, I mean, you'd obviously had a look at everything here. You had planned for the future. You were going to take them on a semester abroad. It suddenly became a frantic race to safety. Most of your students left their families behind, only a backpack and without knowing when they'd see them again.

What memories stand out for you in those days of trying to get everyone safely to the airport? Quite a few. And I think a lot of them quite overwhelming, but I think still quite overwhelming. think about our alums in particular, who had no knowledge of the plan. And it was in really last minute texting them and saying, the next time I send you a text message or give you a call, The next time I send you a text message or give you a call, you need to show up at the airport with a backpack or a purse. And just knowing, you know, I didn't think much beyond that at that time because I was so focused on getting the details of our departure right. It's been in some conversations afterwards with them, how they have experienced it. I just feel so grateful

that they are so resilient. I'm grateful that they are, you know, that they are out and that they are able to continue with their education, but, and to know that they're doing so well and they're so successful, but people probably quite don't appreciate how difficult it is to just pack up and leave. I think on the receiving side, people hold certain kind of opinions toward refugees, unwanted people coming into your communities. But what people don't think about is that oftentimes these refugees, these people who have left their homes, it has never been out of choice or out of this thought process of, God, I'm so bored. Let me get out of my home country and my community and become a refugee in a different place. And I wish people understood that. I wish people gave themselves more time to put themselves on someone else's shoes. But I mean, I think about even, you know, the families of our students. I think about, and quite frankly, like I said, it's still, it's not easy. I can't fully comprehend a family deciding that their young daughter should go away so that she can continue with her studies,

knowing that they have no idea when they're going to see her again. It's just, when I hear you speak, Shabana, it's the layers of courage in that story of leaving the airport that day and it was your courage in the face of the Taliban. It was your staff's courage in taking care of these girls. It was the girls' courage. Some of them were as young as 11. And then, as you just said, the courage of parents and a family to say goodbye to their daughter and not know if and when they would see her again.

I hope people will remember that whenever they find themselves in this conversation that, you know, those people in Afghanistan, they can't be helped. They don't believe in girls' education. It is so not true. education. It is so not true. The reality is that a small handful of people in Afghanistan who do hold that view have somehow, their attitude and their beliefs have gone on to cast a much wider national impression on Afghans, especially in Western countries, and it's so not true. My parents are amazing people, and they are just one example of the kinds of families who live in Afghanistan, of families who live in Afghanistan who risk their lives to make sure that their daughters are able to get an education. The families of our students are other examples of that.

And there are thousands and thousands of other Afghan families like that. People in Afghanistan, thousands and thousands of other Afghan families like that. People in Afghanistan, I cannot tell you how many times I hear in the past two years from families who are willing to become refugees in neighboring countries so that their daughter can be qualified for an opportunity to come and study at Sola. These are people who already understand that one of the worst identities to assume today in today's world is that of a refugee. So this August marks your second year since leaving Afghanistan. How does that milestone feel? How does that milestone feel?

You know, it's strange because it feels like simultaneously such a long time ago. And at the same time, I can't believe two years have almost gone by. Because we deal with both lenses all the time. You know, we are so incredibly fortunate as an institution to be able to freely and independently operate from Rwanda and to do so quite safely. And yet, at the same time, why do we have to operate out of Rwanda? Why should an Afghan girl travel all the way to Rwanda in order to receive an education, an Afghan-centric education? It breaks my heart for our people, but at the same time, it serves as such a great reminder on a daily basis, the need for us to do more and do better for, and on behalf of Afghan girls. Shabana, can you talk us through what life is like

on the solar campus in Rwanda? What does a day in the life of the solar campus look like? Oh, it's quite busy. An organization recently came to visit and work with our students, and they were running a couple of days of sessions with the girls. It's a nonprofit organization based in the United States called Body Positive. And one of the co-founders and an instructor came to visit us and spend a couple of days with us.

And, you know, it's a long trip. And so they arrived a day or two before the session started. And I will never forget how she described Sola. She said Sola felt like a bowl of love. I found that so wonderful as an impression and simultaneously I remember another friend and visitor coming to campus and she said before her alarm woke her up in the morning, she woke up to the sound of just laughter and cheers and just great joy on campus. And that she was referring to, she was woken up by our girls during their exercise hours in the morning. That's how the day starts. There are various activities that the girls engage in, and then they all convene in the assembly hall. And the session is led by the students.

They run the show, whether that is starting the conversation with, you know, gathering from all the girls, some of their high points from the day before. announcements with the students to sharing words of wisdom or reminders about celebrations of certain historic months to what they have learned. And it's a beautiful way to start the day because it always starts with them reciting the 99 names of God and Prophet Muhammad and the Afghan National Anthem. And in all of this, being reminded that they are Afghans and that, you know, they are here and that they have this shared goal of one day being able to return to Afghanistan. And then, you know, it's busy with classes and lunch sessions and afternoon classes.

And we get a little bit of time in the afternoon to either run extracurricular clubs or pick up their phones and be able to call their families and engage with their families on conversation. and be able to call their families and engage with their families on conversation. And then it's, you know, dinner and study hall and a light out and doing that all over again every day. And so it's beautifully busy. So Shabana, what have your students taught you over the last two years?

I think we talk about this in passing in conversations. Kids are resilient. It's one thing to say it, to mention it, but it is something else to experience it in a really profound way. And we came out of Afghanistan with a community of students, faculty, staff and family members of those faculty and staff. And consistently throughout all of this time, our students have been some of the most focused and resilient members of the community. members of the community. I'm always amazed. These are girls who aren't oblivious or unaware of their reality. These are girls who talk to their families all the time. These are girls who have older sisters, younger sisters back in Afghanistan. They have best friends they have left behind.

They have neighbors, daughters, cousins who are back in Afghanistan and who are not in school. And these girls are in school. Not only that, but they are receiving world-class education. And they know that. And I'm just amazed that they channel it in a way that allows them to stay focused on their education. I mean, don't get me wrong, they're cheeky and troublemakers and they do things that a lot of teenagers in a lot of other schools do as well. But with Survivors Guild that they live with, but their ability to focus on their studies and be there for each other as sisters, it's truly, truly inspiring. When I look at Sola and let that be my lens through which I look at the future of Afghanistan,

I am filled with hope and possibility. And I'm so grateful that our students, these girls, gave me that opportunity, especially right now. So, Shabana, we will put links to the school, to all your social media and anything else into the show notes. But very quickly, what's the best way that our listeners can help you

and help SOLAR in its mission? I think the number one thing that I hope people will keep in mind is don't look away from Afghanistan. And it isn't just for the sake of Afghan girls and women or the people in general in Afghanistan. But it matters greatly for the safety of the region and our world, quite simply put. It's really critical. And get behind SOLA. SOLA today serves as a beacon of hope.

The only physically and legally operating boarding school for Afghan girls anywhere in the world. I say that not just with pride, but I say that with a lot of anger and sadness. But it's true. And more than ever, right now is an incredibly critical time to support what we do in a significant way. My goal is to make sure that SOLA is a permanent institution serving Afghan girls forever. And I'm incredibly keen and intended on making that a reality. So to finish our conversation today, we have a question that we are asking all our guests, and that is, what does hope mean to you? To me, these days, hope is a reminder. Sometimes people don't realize how hope can be so incredibly powerful. When you find yourself in a situation like Afghanistan is in today,

you know, the darkness in Afghanistan is so dark, it is too dark, can't sustain itself. And where hope comes in is as a reminder of what is beyond this era. where they will have absolutely no memory whatsoever of what it's like to not be in school. This is a new project, and for our first episode, we couldn't think of anyone better than Shabana who embodies the idea that hope is a verb.

If you'd like to find out more about SOLAR and how you can support the education of Afghan girls, you can go to their website, solar-afghanistan.org and also check out our show notes for links to their social media. We are proud to have SOLAR as one of our charity partners at Future Crunch

and we'd like to thank our paying subscribers for making this possible. We donate a third of our subscription fees to support under-the-radar charities that are helping people and the planet. If you're interested in becoming a subscriber, you can find out more at futurecrunch.com. We would like to acknowledge that this podcast is recorded in Australia on the lands of the Gadigal, Wurundjeri and Woiwurrung people. There are a lot of podcasts out there. It means a lot to us that you chose this one.

If you enjoyed this episode and you'd like to support Hope as a Verb, please subscribe and leave a review. And if you want to reach out directly, send us an email at hope at futurecrunch.com.au. Thanks for listening.