From isolation to inclusion: A training centre transforms the lives of Afghan women with disabilities

After Khatera*, now 23, lost her eyesight as a teenager, she cried every day, convinced she was the only person in her community living with blindness.

“At first, only my left eye went dark,” she said. “Two years later, I lost vision in my right eye. We travelled to Kabul and saw many doctors … but nothing improved.”

The sudden loss of sight turned her world upside down. She had attended a regular school and learned to read visually, so adapting to Braille was unfamiliar and difficult.

Loneliness grew and she became afraid to interact with others.

Across the same city, Neda*, now 22, had been blind since she was a baby and carried many of the same feelings. “I stayed at home doing nothing,” she said. “I had no interest in going out or speaking to anyone…and I depended on someone else for almost everything.”

Their lives began to shift when they each heard about a local initiative offering training for women with hearing or visual disabilities.

Supported by UN Women, the centre teaches students tailoring and handicrafts, financial literacy and small business skills. It also raises community awareness about the rights and potential of people with disabilities and advocates for disability inclusion.

Both young women enrolled.

“At first, I thought no one else had problems like mine,” said Neda. “But after joining the centre, I realized many girls face similar challenges. Now I have many friends. We can talk about any issue and we solve our problems ourselves.”

Khatera began learning how to knit. “Since joining the training and learning new skills, my confidence has grown,” she said. “My life has changed 100 per cent. It feels good when you can understand something through your hands.”

Since its launch 18 months ago, the centre has expanded from a single classroom with limited materials and frequent electricity shortages to four container classrooms, powered by solar electricity. UN Women has supplied Braille typewriters, computers, printers and copiers, and other learning materials.

Already, 120 women and girls with hearing or visual disabilities have completed theoretical and practical courses.

Mariam*, one of the teachers, said many students arrive facing deep social barriers.

“Even their own families did not communicate properly with them,” she said. “They were not treated as full members of the household. Before joining this centre, many stayed at home. They were shy, isolated and withdrawn.”

Today, she says, trust between students and their families has grown, and communities have come to respect their achievements.

Most importantly, the students have begun to see themselves differently.

“Now they know they are valuable members of society,” Mariam said. “They are clever, empowered and talented.”

She recalls one student with hearing disabilities who fell ill, but her family was unable to accompany her to get treatment. She went to the doctor herself, writing down her symptoms and communicating confidently with medical staff.”

Another student is paying for her learning expenses – and part of her living costs – through embroidery work she learned at the centre.

For Neda, the transformation runs deeper than new skills.

“For me, being part of this centre means learning,” she said. “But it also means being part of society.”