Bibi Gul, who doesn't give up even at 70
Introductory Paragraph
In Aqcha, a dusty village in Jawzjan, lives Bibi Gul. She’s 70, though she’s gone by Bibi Nar on her ID card for years. Since she was nine, she’s been spinning wool. “I work as much as I need to,” she says. Her voice is steady, carrying the weight of six decades of labor.
The Story
Bibi Gul is the backbone of her family, all twelve of them. She’s the only one who provides. “My daughter is a widow. I have to work for her,” she says. There’s no man in the house. Just Bibi Gul and her daughter, who has an eight-year-old son. “Everything is on my shoulders,” she admits.
She has two sons. One is in Iran, the other in Pakistan. They’re far away, living their own lives. “I’m alone,” she says, with a mix of sadness and acceptance. But she still takes care of the son’s family that’s with her—his wife and children. The load is heavy.
When asked about her earnings, she says, “Look at me. That’s how much I earn.” Life is simple and hard. “We eat less, spend less. If we want to eat more, we have to earn more. That’s life.” She spins wool daily, half a kilo, sometimes a kilo, mostly in the evenings. “I’ve been doing this since I was nine,” she says, spinning like it’s as natural as breathing.
Wool spinning is her life, but it’s also her way to deal with her pain. “I don’t feel anything. I talk to my pain and suffering while I spin,” she says. Day and night, her hands move, spinning wool, weaving rugs. She has to keep going. “When you’re poor, if you don’t work, you can’t live,” she says.
Her life has seen loss and toil. Her husband died three years ago, at 105, just after the Taliban returned. “He died when the Taliban came,” she says. They married when she was 15, and he was 50. She took care of him until the end. “He was an old man,” she says. He couldn’t work for years, so she worked for them both.
Now, in her old age, Bibi Gul’s world is small—just work and family. Her sons are far, her husband is gone, and the struggle to survive continues. “Our problems don’t need explanation,” she says. “We get oil, but not flour. We get flour, but not oil. We manage somehow.” Life is a constant compromise, making do with what little they have.
But Bibi Gul’s spirit is strong. She agrees to share her story, maybe hoping that others will hear. Her story is one of quiet endurance. It’s the story of Afghan women who, no matter the odds, keep weaving their lives with the threads of hope and determination.
Maryam's Journey: Weaving Resilience and Hope in Aqcha
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In the remote district of Aqcha in Jawzjan province, Afghanistan, Maryam, a resilient and determined woman, carries the weight of her family’s survival on her shoulders. From the tender age of eleven, she was thrust into the world of carpet weaving—a skill she did not choose but was compelled to learn as a means of survival. “We were forced to learn weaving,” Maryam recounts, her voice steady but tinged with the quiet resignation of someone who has known no other life.
The Story
Now a widow, Maryam’s days are long and grueling, filled with the rhythmic motions of weaving, from the break of dawn until the last light of day fades. “I work day and night,” she says, explaining the relentless nature of her work. Her household is large, with twelve mouths to feed, including her 8-year-old son who stands quietly by her side. “We don’t have any other income,” she says, the weight of this reality evident in her words.
Maryam’s life has been a journey marked by hardship and displacement. She spent eleven years in Pakistan, where the family sought refuge, but even there, the loom was her constant companion. “Whether here or in Pakistan, our only source of income was this weaving,” she reflects. The return to Afghanistan has not brought the relief they hoped for; instead, it has only deepened their reliance on this ancient craft. “It has been 20 years since we returned from Pakistan. We’re busy with this work. What else can we do?” she asks, a rhetorical question that underscores the lack of options available to her.
Despite the challenges, Maryam finds a sense of purpose in her work. “You can see that I’m weaving a big rug,” she says, her hands deftly moving across the loom. For her, weaving is more than just a job; it is a lifeline that keeps her family afloat. Yet, it comes at a cost. The grueling hours leave little time for anything else, and the meager earnings of 3,000 Afghanis per month are barely enough to meet their basic needs.
Maryam’s story is one of resilience, but also of sacrifice. Education has been a distant dream, one that she had to forgo for the sake of her family’s survival. “We couldn’t go to school, we couldn’t go to the religious center due to this job,” she explains. Now, she faces the same dilemma with her daughters. “They are going to school now, but they should also be able to weave rugs. Even if we people go to school we should also do weaving because we don’t have any other income,” she says, caught between the desire for a better future for her children and the harsh realities of their present situation.
The harsh Afghan winters add another layer of difficulty to Maryam’s life. The family weaves in a small space outside their room, wrapping themselves in plastic to stave off the cold. “Even in cold weather, we have to live with it,” Maryam says, her voice carrying the exhaustion of someone who has endured too much for too long. Her plea is simple yet profound: “We need financial support. We need oil and flour. If we had money, we could also find the basic opportunities.”
Maryam’s message to the world is clear and poignant. “You can share my message with all the people of the world,” she says, hoping that her voice will reach beyond the walls of her rented home, beyond the confines of her loom. For Maryam, weaving is not just about creating beautiful carpets; it is about weaving together the fragments of a life torn by loss and hardship, and holding onto the hope that one day, her family’s struggles will be met with the compassion and support they so desperately need.
Overview of Weavers
Threads of Resilience: Weavers’ Journeys
At Afghan Rug Story, our rugs are more than just exquisite works of art; they are the woven tales of resilience, tradition, and the indomitable spirit of Afghan women. Each rug we sell carries within it the story of the hands that crafted it, hands that have endured hardship, loss, and displacement, yet continue to create beauty against all odds.
The Significance of Weavers’ Stories
In the remote villages of Afghanistan, weaving is not just a craft—it’s a lifeline. For generations, Afghan women like Bibi Gul and Maryam have relied on their weaving skills to support their families. These women often face tremendous challenges: poverty, widowhood, and the burden of being the sole providers for their loved ones. Yet, through their looms, they express their hopes, dreams, and determination to forge a better life.
The stories we share on this platform give voice to these incredible women. They allow us to honor their struggles and celebrate their achievements. By understanding the personal journeys of our weavers, you, our valued customer, can connect more deeply with the rugs you purchase. Each knot, each pattern, and each color choice is imbued with the life experiences of the weaver, making every rug a unique piece of history.
Our Commitment to Empowerment
We believe that sharing these stories is not just about highlighting the artisans’ craftsmanship but also about raising awareness of the socio-economic conditions they face. Our goal is to empower these women by giving them a platform where their voices can be heard and their talents recognized on a global scale.
When you purchase a rug from Afghan Rug Story, you are not just acquiring a beautiful and timeless piece of art—you are also contributing to the livelihoods of these weavers. Your support helps them provide for their families, educate their children, and continue a tradition that has been passed down through generations.
Connecting Stories to Rugs
Every rug on our website is linked to the story of its maker. When you browse our collection, you will find detailed narratives that accompany each piece, offering insight into the life and inspiration of the weaver. We invite you to explore these stories, to see the faces behind the craft, and to feel the connection between the art and the artist.
By sharing these weavers’ stories, we hope to bridge the gap between the maker and the buyer, creating a more meaningful and enriching experience for all. We encourage you to read their stories, admire their work, and join us in supporting these incredible women as they weave not just rugs, but legacies of hope and resilience.
Khal Dana
In the village of Atchapar, nestled in the city of Sheberghan, Jawzjan province, a powerful movement is taking root. Led by Khal Dana, a dedicated and visionary leader, this initiative is transforming the lives of women weavers in her community. With the support of the village council, Khal Dana has united 60 women under a common purpose—to weave Afghan carpets and build a sustainable future for their families.
In a house generously provided by a fellow villager, 12 carpet frames have been set up, creating a vibrant workspace where hope and determination are woven into every thread. “I conceived this idea to establish a sustainable source of income for my community,” Khal Dana explains. “We aspire to build a viable business, one that empowers us and breaks the chains of poverty.”
Khal Dana’s journey began as a trainer for a carpet weaving project funded by UNHCR. The project ignited a spark not only in her but in countless other women weavers. Now, they have come together, fueled by the belief that collective effort can drive lasting change. Recently, an organization has pledged to provide a monthly salary for all 60 weavers, a significant step towards financial stability.
“It is difficult for a single woman to set up a carpet frame and start weaving,” Khal Dana observes. “Here, we have 4-5 women working on a single carpet.” This collaborative environment not only lightens the workload but also fosters a sense of community. The women share stories, laughter, and the small joys that make the hours of hard work bearable. “For them, this is more than just a job—it’s an escape from the harsh realities they face.”
Despite the progress they’ve made, challenges remain. The women currently purchase their own materials, investing in a project that is still in its infancy. Some tools, such as combs and scissors, are provided by a non-profit organization, but the conditions are far from ideal. The popular “Chob rang” or “Ziegler” carpets they produce are renowned in the market, yet the process is grueling. A 10-meter carpet takes 2-3 months to complete, and while the finished product sells for $700, the income for each weaver, after division, amounts to just $140.
“We have been working here for the past seven months and have completed five carpets, but the challenges are significant,” Khal Dana shares. The weaving center lacks adequate space, is plagued by dust, and the carpet frames are set up on bare earth. The only protection from the elements are makeshift tarpaulins stretched over the frames. Additionally, some women have no choice but to bring their babies with them, as they have no one to care for them at home. Each day, these women walk an hour to reach the weaving center, carrying not just their materials, but the weight of their families’ futures on their shoulders.
Khal Dana and her fellow weavers are a testament to resilience and hope. Their work is more than a means of survival—it is a beacon of empowerment for Afghan women. But they need urgent support. With proper resources and better working conditions, these women can truly thrive, and their story of courage and perseverance can inspire the world to stand with them.