Voice of the Women of Afghanistan – Remembering the Icons of the 70s in 2025

Kokcha News Agency — Looking back at the Afghan women of the past, it’s impossible not to remember the musical icons of the 1970s—Mahwash, Mursel, Afsane, and Parasu—whose voices once echoed through the streets of Kabul, embodying the spirit of a nation. These women were more than just singers; they were symbols of a vibrant, progressive Afghanistan.

In the 1970s, Kabul’s streets were alive with music. Mahwash’s voice would play on the radio as people rode minibuses, her songs declaring, “We are here.” Taxi drivers would hand out Mursel’s cassettes to young girls, urging them to listen and remember. Afsane and Parasu’s songs would fill university cafeterias, and Parasu’s famous song, (When the Roses Bloom), would inspire girls to dance in mini-skirts—a stark contrast to the burka-clad women of today.

But where is that spirit now? For those who remember, it still lingers. The voices of these women once spoke for Afghanistan, but now they are silenced. Mahwash’s Şehirlerim (My Cities) once echoed through Kabul’s streets, but those streets are now quiet. Parasu’s daughter fled to the U.S. in the 1980s, but last year, she gave a secret concert that went viral on TikTok, garnering 50,000 views before being taken down.

The Taliban may demand silence, but Afghan women still find ways to listen—at home, in cars, at weddings. A small radio, a battery—Mahwash’s songs are still heard, even if it means risking imprisonment. In one instance, women gathered at a secret nightclub in Kabul to listen to Afsane, only to scatter when someone knocked on the door. The spirit of those times still exists, but it struggles to survive.

Mahwash, whose real name is Farida, fled to Iran and then Germany after the Taliban came to power. Now in her 60s, she lives in Berlin, her voice still strong. Last year, she performed (I Can’t Stand on My Feet) in a secret YouTube livestream, bringing viewers to tears—until the Taliban had the video removed. Mursel, who stayed in Afghanistan, now performs at weddings for women only, her face hidden but her voice unchanged.

Afsane’s sister, Parasu, was taken to the U.S. in the 1980s, and the two now run a small restaurant in California. On weekends, Parasu still sings for Afghan immigrants who remember the 70s. They no longer care about the Taliban. Last month, Parasu’s daughter shared her mother’s song on TikTok, writing, “My mother still sings.” It received 200,000 likes before being deleted, but the message had already spread.

The beauty of it all is that these voices cannot be silenced. They break through walls. As Parasu’s song goes, (When the roses bloom…).