How did an Afghan woman journalist’s writing resonate in China?

Global Voices

When Afghan journalist Khadija Haidary fled the Taliban, she never imagined that her writing would reach readers thousands of miles away in China. Yet it did — prompting small but meaningful acts of support that empowered her to move forward amid her uncertain situation. In China, where civil society is tightly regulated and spontaneous cross-border humanitarian support is rare, her letters, which evolved into a book women from far away. Rather than forming a visible movement, these responses took shape as quiet, individual acts, revealing how solidarity adapts under constraint.

The story began in October 2024, when a Chinese journalist, Weilin Hong (洪蔚琳), translated and published her month-long email correspondence with “Haidary on Positive Links” (正面連結), a medium-sized WeChat account covering social issues to enlighten Chinese readers on the transformation of Afghan society under the Taliban. The Islamic militant organization, which ruled the region between 1996 and 2001, recaptured Kabul in 2021, after the U.S. withdrew its troops.

Through emails, Haidary explained how women lost their rights between 2021 and 2024: they were forced out of their jobs and forbidden from walking the streets alone; women were not allowed to be treated by male doctors, even as women were blocked from attending medical schools; girls were barred from schools, parks, and swimming pools, and many were forced to marry before reaching adulthood; journalists were imprisoned and in some cases killed for telling the truth. These accounts are not abstract statistics — they are Haidary’s lived experiences. She lost her job, male friends, social life, and bore witness to the harassment of women every day.

In China, where civil society is limited, and media coverage of foreign crises is selective, such storytelling carries particular weight. Haidary’s personal narrative on gender oppression in Afghanistan quickly went viral online and generated emotional resonances among female Chinese readers. One Chinese reader wrote on Weibo the subtle connection among women across the border:

人类跨越国界高墙,其本质相似,心灵相通 / 他们想封住女人的嘴,她就成为劈开黑夜的光。

Across borders and walls, human nature remains the same, and hearts are connected / They want women shut up; she becomes the light that cuts through the darkness at night.

Haidary was writing for Zan Times, an Afghan women’s media outlet, and taking refuge in the countryside to avoid the Taliban when the Chinese journalist first reached out to her in September 2024. The email exchanges encouraged Haidary to consider leaving the country:

我第一次清晰地感受到:我的故事、我的斗争、我的苦难,是重要的;我必须找到一个能够自由说话的地方,去讲述发生在我们身上的一切。你知道吗,洪蔚琳的邮件让我意识到,世界上确实有人在关心我们的痛苦。我知道自己必须鼓起全部勇气,尽一切可能离开这里。

For the first time, I realized that my story, my struggles, and my suffering matter; I had to find a place where I could speak freely and tell everything that had happened to us. You know, Hong Weilin’s email made me aware that there are people in the world who care about our pain. I knew I had to muster all my courage and do everything in my power to get out of here.

By early October 2024, Haidary and her family were settled in Pakistan. As her letters gained public attention, a Chinese publisher reached out to in Pakistan and resettle in Canada.

The book was eventually published in August 2025, and within months, more than 10,000 copies were sold. Knowing that the book's royalties would help Haidary’s family resettle in a less precarious environment, many Chinese have helped promote her book through reviews and reflections on social media.

In one widely circulated post on the Instagram-like Xiaohongshu, the user “WOMEN’s view on the world” (WOMEN看世界) contrasted historical images of empowered, free Afghan women with today’s restrictions, accompanied by the following caption: “They, too, once lived vivid and vibrant lives.” The main text of this post says:

翻开这本书,倾听最真实的声音,以18篇短篇小说,揭开最伤痛的回忆 / 跨越过界与偏见,看见本身,就是一种力量。

Opening the book, readers encounter some of the most authentic voices, as 18 short stories unveil deeply painful memories / To look beyond borders and prejudice, and to truly see people as they are, is in itself a form of strength.

In this sense, Afghan women’s stories function not only as distant narratives but as a mirror through which Chinese readers negotiate their own unarticulated experiences. Some readers have drawn parallels between Afghan women’s experiences and ongoing gender-related conversations in China, particularly around restrictions on personal autonomy, social expectations, and the shrinking space for feminist expression. These reflections can be seen in discussions among overseas Chinese students and feminist communities on platforms such as WeChat and Telegram, where participants related Haidary’s accounts to their own experiences.

These perspectives are also reflected, though less explicitly, in mainstream media discourse. A book review published in the state-sponsored outlet Beijing Daily noted that Haidary’s story is not only read as a distant narrative of suffering but also interpreted through readers’ own social realities:

尽管故事发生在遥远的阿富汗,但其中所蕴含的恐惧、挣扎,以及对家庭的牵挂,是人类共通的情感。它提醒着我们,和平与自由并非与生俱来,而是需要珍惜与守护。

Although the stories take place in Afghanistan, the fear, the struggles, and the family ties are universal sentiments. It [the book] reminds us that peace and freedom is not given, but something that we have to treasure and safeguard.

Some also lauded the resilience of Afghan women living in an oppressive environment. One user left the following comment on a book review on Douban, a Chinese platform for user-generated reviews of books, films, and cultural content:

即便在这样的压力之下,阿迪亚依然写出了独属于阿富汗女性的坚韧、热情和对自由的渴望。书中描绘的女性并非被动的受害者:有的加入国民军找回自尊,有的在绝望中寻找巫师抗争,有的在流言蜚语中坚持自我。正如哈迪亚在自序中所写:“除了战争和破坏之外,人们还必须有其他东西来介绍自己。

Even under such pressure, Haidary managed to capture the resilience, passion, and yearning for freedom that are unique to Afghan women. The women portrayed in the book are not passive victims: some joined the National Army to reclaim their dignity, some seek out shamans in their desperation to fight back, and some remain true to themselves amid rumors and gossip. As Haidary writes in her preface: ‘Beyond war and destruction, people must have something else to define themselves.’

In addition to online promotion, some readers took further steps to support her. One reader even delivered the book to Haidary during a business trip to Pakistan in November 2025.

In such a constrained environment, solidarity does not disappear; it becomes quieter, more fragmented, and often deeply personal.

All these small acts of feminist solidarity were carried out without widespread mobilization or calls to action, as feminist social media outlets have been banned and related networks repressed in recent years. Citizen-initiated fundraising and advocacy work is highly sensitive and almost impossible under China’s tightly regulated online environment. Hong highlighted the cross-border solidarity among women in a reflective piece in January 2026:

在如今人人默认全球趋向保守排外的时代,这样动人的、毫无私心的援助像接力棒一样发生在中国,并奇迹般地帮到了一个他国女性。

As the world is becoming more conservative and xenophobic, this touching and selfless act of kindness has spread like a relay across China, and miraculously helped a woman from another country.

Indeed, the willingness to learn and understand others’ suffering is precious in today’s chaotic world, as explained in a post on Sohu:

哈迪亚·海达里的作品,既是一面镜子,也是一把钥匙。它映照出阿富汗女性的苦难,也叩问着每一个读者的责任:当世界在喧嚣中遗忘某些角落的伤痛时,我们是否愿意成为“知道”的人?这本书的答案或许不在于提供解决方案,而在于唤醒共情。正如书中所写:“她们并不遥远。”

Haidary’s work serves both as a mirror and a key. It reflects the suffering of Afghan women while also challenging every reader to consider their responsibility: When the world, overwhelmed by noise, forgets the pain in certain corners, are we willing to be among those who ‘know’? The book’s answer may not lie in offering solutions, but rather in awakening empathy. As the book states: ‘They are not far away.’