#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #9 | Season 2 Manaz Raiszadeh is a prominent French-Afghan abstract artist based in California, recognized for bridging traditional artistic mediums and modern identity storytelling. Her extensive professional background includes works that deeply explore her identity as an Afghan woman navigating the diaspora. Having been born and raised in France before moving to the United States, her art reflects a complex, layered synthesis of Afghan, French, and Californian influences. This unique cultural geography informs not only her aesthetic choices but also her exploration of the balancing act between different facets of identity. In this episode of NexusTalk with Nila, Manaz shares her journey from growing up in France to moving to the US. She explores the intersections of identity, immigration, education, and language, detailing how her diverse background shapes her artistic perspective. Through her reflections on her family and the Afghan diaspora, Manaz discusses using her art to foster unity and bridge generational gaps. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #8 | Season 2 Tahmina Aziz is a prominent Afghan-Canadian journalist and content creator, recognized for bridging traditional broadcast media and modern digital storytelling. Her extensive professional background includes work with major Canadian media networks such as CBC, CTV, and CHEK. Despite initially holding a degree in Psychology, she successfully transitioned her career into the field of journalism. Furthermore, she is a recognized advocate on social media, where her platforms have garnered millions of views and more than 200K followers on Instagram. In this dynamic episode of NexusTalk with Nila, Tahmina Aziz offers a penetrating exploration of her identity as an Afghan-Canadian woman and her compelling professional trajectory. She provides an intimate account of navigating her early identity struggles, culminating in a powerful reclamation of her Afghan heritage, which informed her successful pivot into journalism and dynamic content creation. The discussion spotlights her significant experience with major media outlets, including CBC, and delivers a firsthand perspective on the critical news cycle surrounding the fall of the government in Afghanistan in August 2021. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #7 | Season 2 Mohadese Mirzaee is known globally as Afghanistan's first female commercial pilot. Her journey is a testament to perseverance, overcoming immense challenges as a woman breaking into this industry for the first time. In this powerful episode of NexusTalk, we sit down with Mohadese Mirzaee to hear the story of a true trailblazer. She takes us through the emotional and logistical hurdles of becoming a pilot, from studying in Canada and working general jobs to finance her training, to persistently negotiating her way into Kam Air's program against every rejection. She recounts the harrowing memories of the day Kabul fell, standing in uniform at the airport as the world around her collapsed, and the remarkable resilience it took to rebuild her career from scratch in Europe. This is a story of grit, courage, and flying high despite the weight of the world. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #5 | Season 2 Lutfullah Najafizada is a distinguished Afghan journalist, the Founder of Amu TV, and a recipient of multiple international awards for his work. During his tenure as the head of TOLOnews, he was instrumental in cultivating a landscape for independent journalism and advocating for media pluralism within Afghanistan. In this conversation, Najafizada details his professional journey and the complexities of reporting from Afghanistan, including his leadership at TOLOnews under challenging conditions. He further explores the transition to establishing Amu TV following the shift in governance and offers a thoughtful analysis of the media's evolution over the past two decades. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #5 | Season 2 Florence Pouya, former captain of the Afghan Girls Robotics Team, is now an aerospace engineering student at MIT—one of only 26 students accepted into the program annually. Her journey from Afghanistan to the U.S. highlights her resilience and passion for STEM, earning her spots on Forbes’ 30 Under 30 and Vogue’s 21 Under 21 lists. With a dream of becoming Afghanistan’s first female astronaut, Florence’s story was recently chronicled in the 2025 film "Rule Breakers." In this talk, she discusses her early interest in science, the hurdles for girls in STEM in Afghanistan, her escape after the government fell, and what it’s like to carry the dreams of Afghan girls while studying at MIT. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #4 | Season 2 Dr. Sima Samar is one of Afghanistan's most beloved figures, known for her down-to-earth leadership, bravery, and honesty. Her life story, chronicled in her national bestseller Outspoken (co-written with Sally Armstrong), traces fifty years of Afghanistan’s history through her experiences as a student and doctor in places like Jaghori, Ghazni, Helmand, Kabul, and Quetta. She has historically stood up for women’s rights, even when it required personal sacrifice. Dr. Samar's commitment to justice and human rights led her to significant roles in the Afghan government and the international community. She served as Minister of Women’s Affairs from 2001 to 2003 and was Deputy Chair of the Interim Administration of Afghanistan and Vice President of Afghanistan. Notably, she was the Chairperson of the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission from 2002 to 2019. Internationally, she also served as the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Situation of Human Rights in Sudan. Her tireless work has earned her widespread international recognition. She has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize and received the Right Livelihood Award in 2012. Additionally, she holds honorary degrees from institutions including Brown University, Carleton University, and Salem University. In this conversation, Dr. Samar reflects on her experience as one of the very first Afghan women participating in politics and society post the Taliban's first era, fighting injustice, the factors behind the fall of the Afghan governments, the importance of learning about human rights, and many other topics that everyone can learn from. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #3 | Season 2 Pashtana Durrani is an Afghan educator, human rights activist, and the Executive Director of LEARN Afghanistan, the country’s first non-profit dedicated to digital literacy and clandestine education. Under her leadership, LEARN has established a network of underground schools that provide critical access to STEM, healthcare training, and primary education for girls, circumventing systemic barriers to girls' learning in the region. Pashtana is the author of Last to Eat, Last to Learn, a critically acclaimed memoir that traces her journey as a refugee in Pakistan, her return to Afghanistan to pursue her education, the fall of Kabul in 2021, and her ongoing advocacy from the United States. Through both her writing and activism, she has become a powerful voice at the intersection of education, digital resistance, and resilience. Her commitment to educational sovereignty has earned her numerous prestigious honours. She is a recipient of the Muhammad Ali Humanitarian Award, has been named to the BBC 100 Women list, and is recognized as a Global Citizen Prize winner. Additionally, her work has been supported and recognized by the Malala Fund, where she serves as an Education Champion, and the World Economic Forum. In this conversation, Pashtana reflects on what it means to challenge systems that seek to silence women and girls, while continuing to build pathways for opportunity and hope. Through her work and storytelling, she aims to empower the next generation of Afghan girls, leveraging education and technology as tools for long-term societal change. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #2 | Season 2 Zohra Couldwell is an Afghan-Canadian entrepreneur and the co-founder of Origin Accounting. Arriving in Canada at the age of four, Zohra has dedicated her life to bridging the gap between cultures, navigating the complexities of integration, education, and identity while building a successful career from the ground up. Beyond her professional achievements as a business owner, a venture she launched alongside her husband, Zohra is a thoughtful voice on the realities of the immigrant experience. Her journey reflects a deep commitment to resilience and healing, offering insight into the quiet strength required to create stability after displacement. Through her personal narrative, she redefines what success means for those coming from communities shaped by loss, migration, and the continuous process of reinvention. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates.

#NexusTalkwithNila | Episode #1 | Season 2 Mozhdah Jamalzadah is a renowned Afghan-Canadian singer, songwriter, actress, and television personality. Often referred to as the “Oprah of Afghanistan,” she rose to prominence through her groundbreaking talk show The Mozhdah Show, which addressed sensitive social issues such as women’s rights, domestic violence, corruption, and youth empowerment. Beyond television, Mozhdah is an accomplished recording artist whose music blends contemporary pop with traditional Afghan influences. Her songs often explore themes of love, resilience, identity, and social justice. Through both her art and media presence, she has become a powerful voice for Afghan women globally and an influential cultural figure within the Afghan diaspora. She has also been recognized internationally for her courage in speaking openly about taboo topics and advocating for women’s dignity and equality. NexusTalk with Nila, produced by HerStory Initiative Society, is hosted by Nila Ibrahimi, Co-Founder of HerStory and the 2024 winner of the International Children’s Peace Prize. The podcast is funded by the KidsRights Foundation. Disclaimer: NexusTalk with Nila is a platform for conversation, not instruction. The views shared by guests are personal and intended to spark reflection. They do not replace professional advice and do not necessarily represent the views of HerStory Initiative Society, its producers, or its affiliates

Huma Rahimi, one of the first female Afghan sitar players, once hid her music in fear. Now, she performs on global stages, raising awareness about Afghan women and using her art to inspire change.   Rahimi, 27, spent years defying societal and religious barriers to pursue her passion for music. Starting in Kabul, where playing an instrument, especially as a woman, was far from common. Through resilience and determination, Rahimi rose above the challenges, eventually performing on some of the world’s most renowned stages.    Rahimi was born into a society where music was often seen as forbidden, and conservative beliefs discouraged artistic expression, especially for women. In a country where female literacy rates were low and female musicians faced harsh criticism, Rahimi’s dream of playing the intricate sitar was a bold act of defiance. At just 13, she enrolled at the Afghanistan National Institute of Music in Kabul, determined to pursue her passion despite overwhelming odds.    "My musical instrument was bigger than me," Rahimi said. "But the bigger challenge was my society, which didn’t want women to be musicians. I never could tell my neighbors I was a musician.”     Despite the skepticism and opposition from her community, Rahimi’s passion for music only grew stronger.     At ANIM, Rahimi was introduced to the world of Indian classical music, learning the sitar from Indian instructors who had been invited to teach at ANIM. At just 14 years old, she achieved a milestone that would forever change the course of her life—her first performance at Carnegie Hall in New York. The experience was a dream come true for Rahimi, a young girl from Afghanistan, standing on one of the world’s most famous stages, performing before a great audience.   Huma in the US | Photo Courtesy of Huma Rahimi Submitted to HerStory   “I can’t fully express how I felt—so happy, yet incredibly nervous. It was a moment I’ll never forget. I was feeling so proud,” Rahimi said.     As Rahimi’s reputation grew, so did the scope of her performances. Over the years, she has performed in countries such as Germany, China, the Netherlands, Switzerland, and many others.     Rahimi lived in India for three years and earned her bachelor’s degree in Eastern music with a focus on the sitar from the University of Delhi in June 2021.     "India was where I could get the best education for my music, and that’s exactly what happened," Rahimi said.     In July 2021, Rahimi returned to Afghanistan to teach at ANIM, the institution where she had received her training. However, just a month after she arrived in Kabul, the Taliban regained control of the country, shattering her sense of peace. She was not only deeply concerned for her own safety but also for the well-being of her family.     "When the Taliban took over, the first thing I did was hide my sitar at a relative's house," Rahimi said. "I was terrified that the Taliban would find me and kill me and my family because they are against music and musicians."     With help from international organizations, Rahimi was evacuated to Portugal, along with a team of fellow musicians, in October 2021.     “It was the darkest day of my life when I had to leave Afghanistan,” Rahimi said.     For nearly two years, she lived in Portugal, continuing to perform and raise awareness about the plight of Afghan musicians and women. In 2023, she finally made her way to the U.S., where she has since performed in various states, sharing her music and advocating for the rights of Afghan women.     Rahimi is grateful to be safe in Boston, but her heart remains with the women of Afghanistan, still denied their fundamental rights simply because of their gender. Rahimi recently co-founded a nonprofit organization called “Her Path to Knowledge” to provide underground classes for women who are no longer allowed to get an education.     “I am free now, but I think every day of those who are still suffering; that’s why I co-founded this organization to provide educational opportunities for a few women,” Rahimi said. “I hope that one day Afghan women can live like women in other countries.”     Rahimi’s path has taken her from fear to freedom, from hiding her instrument to sharing it with the world. Wherever she plays next, her story travels with her.

Written by Raihaneh Karimi As I walked out of my house, the city felt emptier than it ever had before. Maybe rainy days always feel this way—people postponing their plans, waiting for the sun to return. But is it so terrible to get caught in the soft drizzle?    I’m only a few steps away from my destination, with Mohammad Motamedi’s song playing again. Along the way, I pass by two people with their hats pulled low over their eyes and hands shielding their faces, as if the raindrops were something far heavier falling from the sky. They hurry past.    When they cross the street, they glance over at me, my hands tucked into my pockets, walking calmly as if I have all the time in the world. And in their minds, I can hear them think: “Where is she going? No university. No classes. Not even a café with space for a girl.”    I ignore it and keep walking, Motamedi’s voice filling my ears: “Now only tears truly understand my sorrow…”    I walk down the last alley, each step heavier than the last. When I finally reach my destination, I lean against the damp wall, not caring if my coat gets dirty. From here, I can see the university gate. It feels like time has stopped. I shake my head, struggling to believe what I’m seeing. The sight pulls me back into a memory from which I can’t escape. I close my eyes, and when I open them, it’s as if I’ve been carried to another time and place—a time when dreams came alive, and voices promised brighter days ahead.    In my hand is a book on the foundations of the visual arts, and in the other, a flask of iced water with a few fresh lime slices, which my mother prepared to keep me cool.     I lift my head and feel the sunlight on my face. Jamila and Zahra are smiling beside me, looking at their photos, criticizing their shots. They glance at me, saying something I can’t quite catch, while pointing to the alley behind us.  It’s full of students walking toward the university. They must be pointing at Niloofar, who’s weaving through the crowd to join us. Everyone is smiling, even Niloofar, despite being late. A contented smile lingers on my lips.  Then, I hear it:  “What are you doing here, girl?”  A raindrop hits my face. I open my eyes, and suddenly, everything fades—the books, my friends, even the sunlight. A man with a rifle slung over his shoulder stands in front of me, his voice full of anger.   “Can’t you hear me? What are you doing here? What are you checking?” I turn and walk away, retracing my steps, heading back toward home.  He stays where he is, still shouting questions I can’t hear anymore.  “What are you doing here?”  I wish I could answer him, but I know better than to engage.    I wish I could say: “I was checking the dream that was stolen from us on August 15, 2021. I was trying to make sense of the way we woke up one day and found our rights erased; Our right to education, our future. I was mourning the loss of everything we fought for.”    The rain keeps falling, but now, I can’t tell if the wetness on my face is from the rain or the tears I can’t stop shedding.    Yes, dear reader, this is Afghanistan—the only place where women are denied the right to dream, to learn, and to build their future.

Written by Atifa Annabi On August 15, 2021, Kabul didn’t fall; it collapsed in on itself. The air still carried the smell of my mother’s half-cooked rice when the TV announced the surrender of Afghanistan. Hearing the news about the Taliban, I just froze in place. The only thing that instantly crossed my mind was: There would be no more education. Not even going outside. And it wasn’t just me or my family, the entire city fell into a silence filled with screams. Every street, every home overflowed with fear and panic, echoing the same unanswered question: “What happens now?” At the Kabul Passport Office, the heat shimmered above the pavement like rising smoke. People surged toward the gates like swarming bees around a hive, desperate, confused, terrified, trying to escape a homeland that no longer felt like home. The building had become a beehive under siege. I stood in that endless line under the burning sun. Sweat soaked into my clothes. Around me were people with dreams in their hands, pressed into faded folders and ID cards. In front of me was a woman in a black burqa. I couldn’t see her face, but I saw her hands trembling like a wounded bird. They told me this was her first time wearing it, not as a symbol of faith, but as a symbol of forced silence. Three children clung to her: two girls and a boy. The youngest, a boy no older than five, held their passport folder tightly and asked her softly, “Mama, will we leave when they give us our passports?” Inside, the biometric officer’s harsh voice shattered the heavy silence: “Your husband’s brother isn’t here? He’s in Iran? Your father-in-law is dead? Go, auntie! Please don’t waste my time. Look how many people are waiting!” Then, coldly said: “Next!” She stepped back, defeated. Her silence screamed louder than words. Then it was my turn. The officer, a man in his 40s with a faded henna-dyed beard, didn't even look at me. “What year were you born, Atifa?” “2006.” He waved me off. “We can’t register you. Come back with a male relative.” Then shouted again, “Next!” A storm rose inside me. Why? Am I not human? Can I not decide my own future? I stepped aside and called my brother. As I waited, I sat near the woman and gently asked, “Khala (Aunty), why didn’t they let you move forward with your work?” She adjusted her daughter’s collar and sighed. “My husband is gone. They say my children’s uncle must come. I’m their mother, but they say a mother isn’t a legal guardian.” Then, speaking more to herself than to me, she whispered, “That’s the cruel truth in these men’s minds… ‘What’s your father’s name? Your husband’s name? We need a male guardian.’ Mother? No, a mother has no identity.” That moment cracked something in me. A mother who has carried life, who has stayed up at night, who has raised her children alone, can’t get them passports because she’s a woman? I asked gently, not wanting to disturb her, “Where is your husband?” She answered quietly, “He was a soldier in the national army. He disappeared in the war with the Taliban. We never found him. I’m alone now. I must raise my children alone.” Her eyes held back tears, but her voice carried strength. That day I was there to get a passport, but I felt the worst feeling for me, my mother, my sister and all women in my country. I walked away with more than rejection. I walked away with a deeper understanding of what it means to be a woman in Afghanistan. I realized with the depth of my heart that it’s not just about hijabs and laws. It’s about being questioned for every breath you take. If you laugh, "It's inappropriate.” If you cry, “You’re weak.” If you speak, “You’re rude.” If you don't obey, “How dare you?” While thinking to myself, I saw another woman there with her children, with a heavy heart, saying “Now I must pull a stranger off the street to sign a piece of paper saying these children are mine. I carried them, birthed them, raised them and still, that’s not enough.” Finding myself alone there waiting for my brother with a burden of bitter feelings, I felt I needed to write all my thoughts down. Or it will make me cry. I pulled out a white sheet of paper and a pen from my bag, a bag that had carried these items with me since the 10th grade. As I held them in my hands, a thought crossed my mind, one that I would later feel ashamed of: What if the Taliban sees me writing? What would they do to me? Then, I scolded myself. Don't be ridiculous. You want to write about women’s rights, and here you are, afraid to even write about it. I start my writing with these sentences: But being a woman isn’t just about being someone’s daughter or wife. It’s about fire, strength, and life. It means rising again, no matter how many times the world pushes you down. It means turning your pain into a battle cry. If you dream, “You’re shameless.” If you want more, “You’re ungrateful.” If you choose your path, “Who gave you permission?” But being a woman means building yourself, even without anyone’s permission. A woman’s body is watched, judged, and silenced. If she wears a headscarf, “She’s dangerous.” If she doesn’t, “She’s immoral.” If she’s tired, “She’s acting like a victim.” If she wants freedom, “Who do you think you are?” But to be a woman means standing tall despite it all. To rise with fire in your eyes and scars on your soul. To keep fighting even when the world pretends you don’t exist. In a world that tries to erase them, every woman who resists becomes a revolution. That woman in the burqa, her children, and thousands like them might never be mentioned in history books. But their silence, their pain, their resistance, they shake the conscience of the world. If we don’t write, we’ll be forgotten. If we stay silent, injustice will echo. I write so that women in Afghanistan, and across the globe, know: their identity, their worth, and their fight can never be erased... Lost in my writing, I didn’t notice my brother had returned. Seeing him made me feel unexpectedly happy. I wasn’t sure why, but the moment he arrived, I felt safe, as if I had stepped into a shelter after standing in the storm. Smiling, I walked toward him and greeted him. Tired but hopeful, he asked, “What did they say?” I replied, “They said I can’t get a passport. It has to be my father or my brother who signs for it.” He shook his head and said, “Fools. I swear, you’re wiser and more capable than I am. If anyone can take responsibility for herself, it’s you.” Together, we moved forward and completed what we had come for.