Learning French, taming Quebec culture, breaking isolation: dozens of Afghan women who have fled the violence of their country find valuable support in a help center founded by one of their own in Montreal.
Makai Aref, an energetic 72-year-old grandmother, runs the Afghan Women’s Center of Montreal (CFAM), which she founded in 2002, with her small team. The duty met her in the local west of the city center, where women of all origins are active.
When talking about the Afghans who arrived in Canada after the Taliban took over last summer, Makai Aref shakes her head. “It’s a long and sad story…” she said. A story that painfully reminds him of his own.
Mme Aref fled Afghanistan in 1992 after the rise of the mujahideen, a guerrilla group opposing Soviet forces and one faction of which later became the Taliban. She was then a school principal and campaigned for women’s rights in her country. “When the mujahideen came, they said that everyone working in the schools was communist. We didn’t feel safe and we had to leave,” she says.
With her husband and children, she first went to Kazakhstan, where she founded an organization to help refugees like her. Then, eight years later, she packed her bags and moved to Canada with her family.
When she arrives in Montreal, she sees how isolated many women of Afghan origin are. “They stayed at home and didn’t go out, there was a language barrier,” she notes. She therefore founded the CFAM to allow them to gather and discuss activities – cooking, embroidery and yoga classes, in particular.
Today, the CFAM also offers free French and English lessons to its members. “There are people who only take French lessons here,” says project manager Victoria Jahesh. But the place lacks funding — from the Quebec government, in particular — to help more people.
And, a sign that the battle for the development of Afghan women is far from won, the center is not unanimous within the community of exiles. “Some seek to prevent women from surrendering [au CFAM]because they don’t want them to be autonomous”, deplores Mme Aref.
Community and comfort
When passing the To have to at the Afghan Women’s Center in Montreal, the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Adha was being celebrated. Many arrived with homemade dishes to share; the feeling of solidarity was immediate.
Most of the women present do not cover their heads and wear western clothes. A woman in a gorgeous shimmering purple dress with long curly hair searches for a place to say her afternoon prayers.
Before the festivities begin, everyone gathers in a room to take part in an introductory computer course. Their teacher, a well-known Afghan journalist who resides in Montreal, is present via Zoom.
After class, as they prepare to eat and celebrate together, the women tell their stories to the To have to in a mixture of Dari and Farsi, variants of Persian.
Some seek to prevent women from surrendering [au CFAM]because they do not want them to be autonomous.
“I arrived here alone, without family or acquaintances. The loneliness weighs on me,” says Morokh, who has lived in Montreal for five years. In Afghanistan, she was a university professor, worked in the civil service and promoted women’s rights. “At first I just came to the center, but after a while COVID-19 came and I was afraid to leave the house. »
Today, she feels ready to take francization courses: she wants to overcome the language barrier that prevents her from showcasing her skills and experience.
Shokoufeh, who arrived in Montreal just two and a half months ago, brought her young niece to CFAM for Eid al-Adha. “His father was tortured by the Taliban,” she says. The woman and members of her extended family are living in a shelter in Montreal while waiting to find housing. “Then I want to learn French,” she says.
Sadaf Rashedi is fluent in French. The young woman of Afghan origin was born in Quebec. She studies at McGill University and volunteers at the Afghan Women’s Center in Montreal. At home, we speak Dari and French, she explains, blowing up balloons. But she finds that not everyone is so lucky.
“For some people who come here, it’s hard to fit in. […] They speak a little English, but learning French can be a real obstacle. »
Either way, a sense of security and camaraderie prevails at the center. Here, Afghan women can tell their stories and ask for help with confidence. More importantly, those around them share their roots and, often, part of their history.
In order to move forward, “the first obstacle to overcome for them is their isolation”, emphasizes Makai Aref.