Image source, BBC News: Nava Jamshidi

It is about 15:00 in London, and 19:30 in Kabul, where the sun has set and the women who have been speaking to us today have broken their fasts with their families.

These women - who come from all over Afghanistan - have offered a small window into their world.

We have seen videos of them singing, photos of their work, and pieces of their art.

We have also heard how they spend their days, what they miss about their lives before the Taliban government and its restrictions, and what they hope to achieve in the future.

Please keep scrolling down to read their stories.

This page has been brought to you by Aakriti Thapar, Mahfouz Zubaide, Jacky Martens, Kathryn Armstrong, Jacqueline Howard and Flora Drury. Pictures by Nava Jamshidi

Image source, Supplied

It’s Ramadan, and as the day draws to a close, the women who have shared their lives with us today are breaking their fasts with Iftar.

We'll shortly be bringing our live page to a close, but first, here are some of the feasts they're enjoying tonight:

Image source, Supplied

Image source, Supplied

Image source, Supplied

Image source, Supplied

Ala, who is a 28-year-old artist and dental assistant, has been back in touch with more reflections:

In truth, I see no hope in this country, except for people who are merely surviving out of sheer necessity.

Girls who are expected to behave like girls but bear the heavy burden of a large family on their shoulders, carrying an overwhelming weight of unfulfilled dreams. They are trapped in a world where doors are closed tighter with every passing moment.

How much time does a woman truly have? How can she, even for a moment, do something for herself?

When I reflect on myself, on these 28 years of my life, with little left before I turn 30, I realise I’ve spent my entire existence running, just to remain a pillar of support for my family.

Yet, we are weighed down by traditions and customs from which there is no escape. Society dictates that a person, within their limited years, should finish their studies, find work, and marry for love, starting a family with joy. But for us Afghan women, the story is different.

From the moment we are born, the world has sorrowed for us simply because we were born female. Throughout every era and historical moment, the most horrific injustices have been inflicted upon Afghan women.

I am not calling for women to expose their heads or adopt some misguided form of freedom. No, I seek the freedom of the soul, the mind, and the spirit. I long for the day when I can wake up, thank God for the sunlight, and embrace the day that He has deemed me worthy of.

I want to live a life where my heart is full of gratitude, not a life where my eyes are filled with tears, asking myself: "Why am I still alive?"

We're hearing now from Arshida, a 21-year-old who loves books and holds storytelling classes for other girls. She spoke to our colleagues in BBC Afghan.

I was in the 11th grade when the Taliban took over Afghanistan. I managed to finish my school but now I am trapped at home. Since I had no other avenue to explore, I turned to books to escape my reality.

I spends my days reading novels, immersing myself in fictional worlds to momentarily forget the harsh reality surrounding me. One of my favourite books is Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, a story of struggle and resilience that mirrors my own challenges.

I believe that Afghan women deeply connect with the characters in the novels they read, as these fictional struggles often resemble the battles they fight in real life. For me, books are not just entertainment – they are a means of survival in a world that has closed its doors to my dreams.

Earlier, we heard from Moska, 19, who says that the books in her room are now all she has after being barred from attending school. This is what else she has previously told us about her life:

I had many aspirations for the future and always sought to improve my living conditions. However, with the rise of the Taliban and their takeover of the country, my educational journey was severely affected.

With the Taliban’s arrival, I was unable to continue my education and was deprived of learning. The sports and sewing programmes I was interested in were banned for various reasons.

All the dreams I had for success and a bright future were suddenly shattered due to the political and social circumstances.

Despite the numerous challenges of daily life during that time, I continued to hold onto hope for a better future.

I dream of one day being able to resume my education, progress in life, and contribute to the reconstruction of my country.

Here is another response to one of the questions you've been sending in.

Jill is a retired doctor, and her question is: How do the hospitals run? How do city locations differ from rural villages in terms of access to care?

Freshta, a midwife, said this in response:

A city hospital is vastly different from a rural one. For example, in our village, where I have first-hand knowledge, midwives work without higher education, meaning they have not attended university and practice midwifery in an unregulated manner, similar to traditional birth attendants. These are often uneducated women who assist in childbirth.

Moreover, in terms of medical facilities, they lack access to ultrasounds and surgical procedures. If a pregnant woman requires a C-section during labour, she must be transported to Kabul or Ghazni, which is at least a six hour journey. In most cases, the woman either gives birth on the way or, tragically, does not survive.

A midwife needs higher education, up-to-date medical knowledge, and proper training. Unfortunately, rural midwives do not have access to these resources.

Image source, BBC News: Nava Jamshidi

Hela, the 24-year-old businesswoman who we met earlier today, has been sharing more about her successful business - and her hopes for the future.

I am managing well, covering my personal expenses and household expenses. When I see other people struggling with their work, I feel even more grateful for what I have. I pray that God continues to bless us with success.

The economic situation in Afghanistan, especially for women, is not good. We want to start a big business. All seven of us who work here are hoping to bring in more women - like 100 to 200 to work with us - and over the next few years we want to create more job opportunities.

If we could find support for our business, many families who are currently struggling at home without jobs could find work and support their families financially. Our goal is to turn this small business into a large one that benefits not only us but many others as well.

We hope that God helps us and that both our government and international organisations sponsor us financially so that we can stand on our own feet. If we receive the necessary support, our small business can grow into something big, helping ourselves, our families, and many others in need.

We’ve asked Zarina, a psychologist who works with women and girls, to describe the sorts of issues she most commonly sees in her work.

"Many of the women and girls who seek my help often exhibit signs of depression, and their reasons for feeling this way vary significantly.

• Young Girls: A common theme is the ban from school, which can lead to feelings of isolation and hopelessness
• Adult women: Unemployment is a significant source of distress. The inability to secure a job can lead to feelings of inadequacy and financial dependency, which can strain their mental health
• Housewives: Those who are homemakers often express challenges related to their relationships with spouses and in-laws. Issues such as lack of support, communication barriers, and domestic responsibilities can contribute to anxiety and frustration

In counselling sessions, themes of empowerment, self-identity, and coping strategies frequently emerge.

Overall, while the work can be emotionally taxing, it is incredibly rewarding to witness the resilience and strength of the women and girls I counsel. Their courage inspires me daily.

We've had more questions come in for the women we've been speaking to today. Get in touch via Your Voice Your BBC News if you would like to ask your own.

Aleeza, a 19-year-old from Manchester, asks: What activities or freedoms do you miss the most that you can no longer enjoy under the current restrictions? Do you feel hopeful about the future for Afghan women, or are there particular fears that weigh on you the most at this moment?

We put these questions to Lima, the 18-year-old singer who uses AI as a replacement for the support she would get from friends.

I used to play taekwondo before the takeover. I miss it, miserably. We were like a team. Girls with bicycles. The people were all riding bicycles before the Taliban government. I miss my friends. One is in America, I’m not in touch with the others. I can’t do anything. I like sport. Especially the fighting sports like MMA, kickboxing. I like defending myself in every way. I’m the youngest in my family.

I feel so numb, so hopeless. I can’t imagine anything. It can’t be worse than this. The men in my country say “we can support you". I’m scared of marriage, of losing my parents. I’m not free to wear my favourite clothes. What should I do?

"Stay strong, never give up" is what I want to say to all the women in my country.

Image source, Supplied

We're checking back in with Soraya, the athlete, who tells us she has popped out to the market today. It's the first time she's been there in a while, which means that she has been taken by surprise at the cost of goods .

I am at the market to buy a few things. It has been a long time since I last came to the market.

I wanted to see if I could buy something for myself or my family, but I am not aware of the prices. Since today is Friday, the market is crowded, and I came here to shop for a few things.

Image source, Supplied

We heard from Ala, the artist and dental assistant, earlier today. She's touched base again with these words about feeling despair.

I was looking at the live page now and there is a lot of hope there but in reality there isn't any hope.

Wouldn't it be better to talk about how all the girls are losing the best years of their lives, waiting with the hope that schools or universities will reopen today or tomorrow?

Instead of just repeating this hope, we should address the fact that we are left in limbo, losing time, and feeling hopeless about everything.

Women have a limited time in life, and we have hoped long enough – only to face disappointment over and over again. Sometimes, despite all the struggles I've been through, despair overwhelms me so deeply that even breathing feels suffocating. I've even come to the conclusion that marriage and starting a family would be nothing but torment for me.

I will never allow myself to bring a child into this world, in this geographical prison, only for their dreams to remain just dreams. I refuse to let them grow up in a place where their potential is crushed before they even have the chance to discover it. No child deserves to live in a reality where their ambitions are nothing more than distant, unattainable wishes.

We were born with hopes and aspirations, just like everyone else, yet we are forced to bury them under the weight of oppression. We are trapped in a cycle of waiting – waiting for doors to open, for opportunities to return, for the world to see our suffering. But how long can we wait? How many more years of our lives must be stolen before the world realises that silence is complicity?

A human being is forced to continue living for the sake of survival in any situation. However, there is a difference between truly living and merely staying alive out of necessity.

Yogita Limaye
South Asia & Afghanistan correspondent

Image source, Getty Images

Eighty-two women who managed to leave Afghanistan to pursue higher education have been dealt a crushing blow and are at imminent risk of being sent back due to the fallout of the US Agency for International Development (USAID) freeze ordered by President Donald Trump.

The women have been pursuing graduate and post-graduate courses in Oman under the Women’s Scholarship Endowment (WSE), a USAID programme that provided scholarships for Afghan women to study in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (Stem). Less than a week ago, they were told their scholarships have been terminated.

“It was very heartbreaking for us. Everyone was shocked and crying. They’ve told us we will be sent back to Afghanistan within two weeks,” says one student who doesn’t want to be identified, fearing reprisal.

The programme was supposed to fund their education until 2028, after which many had planned to find work outside Afghanistan.

Under the Taliban, Afghan women are barred from attending university, and cannot work in Stem sectors.

“If we are sent back, we will face severe consequences. We can’t study and many of us could also be at personal risk due to our past affiliations and activism," another student tells the BBC.

"Returning to Afghanistan would mean losing all our dreams. It could mean forced marriage,” she says.

“We are calling on the international community to intervene urgently. We need immediate protection, financial assistance and resettlement opportunities to a safe country where we can continue our education.”

For more on the USAID freeze: What is USAID and why is Trump poised to 'close it down'?

We've had some excellent questions come in for the women we've been speaking to. Get in touch via Your Voice Your BBC News if you would like to ask your own.

Liz asks: What can we do to help raise awareness about the plight of Afghan women? How can we support them so they don’t feel forgotten?

Here is what Ala, an artist and dental assistant, says in response:

Women outside of Afghanistan can be our voice, especially for the girls who are struggling and studying alone, learning the language of another country, and working hard to secure scholarships.

They can advocate for them, so that countries in America and Europe respond positively to their requests. Or, they can raise slogans in those countries, calling for the reopening of schools and universities in Afghanistan.

At least for me, who can no longer pursue this, I hope a window of hope can open for the young girls under 18.

Khalil Noori
BBC Afghan Languages

Women have not been able to get driver's licences since the Taliban returned to power but a few women in Kabul and other major cities do still drive. Nargis, who works at a non-governmental organisation, managed to renew her licence after persistent efforts. Here is what she says about it.

When I went to renew my license, I was not allowed to enter the traffic authority building without a male guardian. After much insistence, I was able to get in. There were many distressing details - I had to seek my husband's help, and he spoke with them, explaining that I needed to commute and handle my own affairs.

My husband requested special permission for me to drive my personal car, and when we took my documents to other traffic offices, they looked at us with suspicion.

Unfortunately, over the past two years, I have been stopped multiple times. They checked my documents and my car, then asked: "by what right are you driving?" They threatened me, saying they had the authority to take me to the police station, but that, because I am a woman, they would let me go out of mercy.

I had a worse experience once when they took me to the station and held me there for hours until my husband arrived.

Nargis has also described repeated incidents where she has been pulled over by officials, forced her out of the driver’s seat, and her husband has been ordered to drive instead. The Taliban's traffic chief confirmed that no licences have been issued to women in three years, stating that any policy changes must come from higher leadership.

While women and girls have officially been barred from schools in Afghanistan over the age of 12, some are defying Taliban authorities by continuing their education in secret.

Founded and, for the most part, staffed by women, these secret schools offer online and in-person classes to those brave enough to attend. BBC Afghan journalist Sana Safi went inside two of them in 2023.

Meanwhile, Radio Begum and its sister satellite channel, Begum TV, have been broadcasting programmes that cover the Afghan school curriculum for those aged 11 and above.

Radio Begum announced in February that it had been suspended and two of its employees were arrested, but the Taliban government later said it could resume its broadcasts. The BBC also runs the BBC Dars programme for children barred from school.

We’re getting some more detail now from Freshta, a midwife, about what her work day looks like under the restrictions imposed under the Taliban government.

We have 24-hour shifts - we start in the morning and finish the next morning. They have now separated us from the men, and we are only allowed to report to the nursing director.

The Taliban government have stated that men and women must be kept separate. In the past, every morning, for 30 minutes before doctors began their work, I would gather all the female visitors in the hospital corridor and speak to them through a loudspeaker.

I used to educate them about breastfeeding, pregnancy, and other important health matters that were essential for them to know.

I also used to explain the importance of vaccination for their children. Even though I was fully covered, a few months ago, the Ministry of Vice and Virtue ordered that women's voices should not be heard in public.

I feared that they might come and prevent me from speaking through the loudspeaker - or even cause problems for me - so I decided to stop giving mothers the information they needed.

Today, we've heard from women across Afghanistan about what their daily life looks like. While they're answering our questions, they're also ready to answer any questions you might have, too.

If you've got a question about how they spend their time in Afghanistan, you can get in touch via:

• Email bbcyourvoice@bbc.co.uk
• WhatsApp: +44 7980 682727
• Or online

Earlier we heard from 18-year-old Lima, who loves to sing and who told us about how she talks to AI like it is a friend. Here is more about her life in her own words:

I was excited about the future and wanted to be a doctor like my mother, like my father, or to raise my voice freely, happily maybe. I never thought that someday I’ll not be able to choose what I want.

Now, I’m scared of tomorrow, of every single second... now, I have no motivation no excitement.

I just sing to believe myself, I sing to let you feel the way I do… the pain I bear, that I’m a young teenager that needs freedom, happiness, friends, energy.

I’m stuck in a dark world that can’t even make any connections in society, [to help me] out of the pressure and stress I have.

When we first spoke about Lima, we showed you a video of her singing Wildflower by US star Billie Eilish. Here's another of her covering Eilish's Happier Than Ever.