“Faces of Resilience” tells the story of four courageous women from Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Iran who rebuilt their lives in Greece after fleeing conflict and displacement. They reject limiting labels like “refugee,” instead embracing their identities as strong, hopeful individuals—workers, mothers, students, and leaders—shaping their own futures. They define themselves not by where they come from, but by who they choose to become.
I am proud of the effort I am making. For my job, for my home, for my child who goes to school, for learning Greek. I like trying. I don't like staying at home doing nothing, just sitting around. In Afghanistan, I always worked, making carpets (wall hangings). By hand. One carpet a month. It's very difficult.
Now I work in a restaurant. I'm in charge of the salads. I chop the lettuce, tomatoes, onions, vegetables, and I do all the prep work. After work, I go to the nursery to pick up my son, Elias, I do the housework, and then I go to Greek lessons. Only on Tuesdays do I have free time. That's the day I dedicate to myself.
Fatimah
Fatimah is a resilient woman from Kabul, Afghanistan, who arrived in Greece five years ago after a difficult and dangerous journey across borders. Landing on the shores of Lesbos with no belongings, no phone, and no certainty, she took her first steps into a new life by asking a stranger to call her husband. Their emotional reunion days later marked the beginning of her rebuilding process.
Today, Fatimah lives in Greece with her family, where she balances work, motherhood, and education with unwavering determination. She attends Greek language classes in the evenings after she finishes her job and housework. Tuesdays are the only day she keeps for herself—a small but important act of self-care and autonomy.
Originally skilled in weaving intricate carpets by hand in Afghanistan, Fatimah continues to build with her hands—this time carving a future grounded in effort, learning, and belonging. Her motivation is rooted in her belief in progress and self-reliance.
Fatimah’s story is one of quiet leadership—of a woman who moves forward every day not only for herself but for her family and future, refusing passivity and choosing action.
As a refugee here in Greece, I’ve faced struggles that have challenged me in ways I never thought I’d be able to overcome. There were moments when I felt powerless — when simply accessing basic services, feeling at home, or having a future seemed distant and uncertain. But through all of these struggles, I’ve grown more resilient and more determined.
I’m especially passionate about improving transgender healthcare, because I know first-hand how much it matters. Access to proper care isn’t a privilege — it’s a necessity — and I want to be a voice for those in my community who may not yet be able to speak up. My struggles have ignited a deep purpose within me: to fight for dignity, fairness, and compassion for all, starting from the community I’m a part of.
My life is a journey toward a better future — not just for myself, but for everyone whose path is a little more difficult because of who they are or where they come from. I am committed to making a better living for myself and to making sure that future generations have more opportunities, more understanding, and more hope.
Ovileya
Born in Bangladesh, in a conflict-ridden region, Ovileya grew up without the security of a stable home or the freedom to live as a child should. Her early life was shaped by displacement and isolation, experiences that denied her the basic rights of belonging and safety. After enduring the harsh conditions of the Moria refugee camp in Greece — where she lived in a tent for nine months — she began rebuilding her life with a clear vision: to create a home defined not by nationality, but by dignity, freedom, and self-determination.
Today, she is not only living that vision but actively working to protect it for others. Refusing imposed labels and systems that strip away identity, she has become a strong voice for women’s rights, refugee rights, and the right to self-representation. Through her leadership and community engagement, she helps others find agency in their own stories — reminding them that their pasts do not define their worth, and that home is something we build, not something we are given.
“I’ve been refusing them. Refugee is not my identity”, she says, asserting the power to define herself. In her work and in her life, she embodies resilience, dignity, and the quiet revolution of turning survival into strength — and strength into solidarity.
I am a mother, a student, a worker, and a community leader. For much of my life, I had no voice — no right to make decisions, no space to be myself. But now, I am finally me. I am proud to say that I walk this path on my own, even when no one walks beside me.
Karimeh
Karimeh was born in Afghanistan and raised in Iran, where early marriage and the denial of education shaped her early years. Her voice was silenced before she ever had a chance to use it. Yet through pain and perseverance, she found the courage to start over in a new country — not only to rebuild her own life, but to shape a better future for her two sons and for countless other women like her.
Today, Karimeh is a university student, a loving mother, and the founder of Hidden Goddess, a women’s rights organisation rooted in healing, empowerment, and sisterhood. Education — once a distant dream — is now her foundation. She describes stepping into the classroom for the first time as “walking in the sky.”
At home, she is raising her sons to understand what respect for women truly means — not just in words, but in daily life. “I teach my children to cook, to clean, and to care for themselves,” she says. “If their future partner wants to study or work, it shouldn’t fall only on her to do everything.”
Through Hidden Goddess, Karimeh creates safe spaces for women who have never been allowed to dream. “Some of them don’t even know what makes them happy. Even sitting and drinking tea on the balcony — they’ve never given themselves that chance.”
She helps them take their first steps — a dance, a class, a gathering. And from those small beginnings, a community grows. “Once we bring women to the table,” she says, “we can start to solve problems. We can protect each other. We can heal.”
Karimeh’s leadership is rooted in compassion, justice, and cultural understanding. She believes in integration, not assimilation, building bridges between communities through shared respect and mutual growth.
Her journey is one of profound transformation — from silence to strength, from isolation to impact. Through every challenge, she has remained guided by one truth:
We are all worthy of peace, dignity, and a life where our voices are heard.
I don’t like to sit at home doing nothing. I like adventure. I like to discover more. Even though I’m 54, I don’t feel 54. I feel 15. I like dancing, training, exercising—being alive. I’m not the type to sit and cry. I try to distract myself and keep going.
I started cooking after learning to sew. Now I want to open my own restaurant—with food from all the places I’ve lived and loved. I know how to make desserts not just from my country, but from many others. I’m curious and always learning. Cooking is a way for me to give joy to others.
What I couldn’t have, I tried to give to my children. That’s what makes me proud. Each one of my children has a job now. That’s my success. Even though I’m far from them, I keep learning so I can offer them more. I’ve taken firefighting courses, cooking classes, and I’m learning English. I never want to stop growing. I feel young when I learn. I want to be active, to live fully.
I try not to let the bad things break me. I stay positive. That’s how I move forward.
Sakineh
Sakineh, a woman originally from Afghanistan, has lived in Greece for the past five years. A mother of several children—now grown and living across Europe – she has rebuilt her life in Athens with strength, hope, and determination despite facing displacement, separation from her family, and discrimination.
Trained first as a tailor, Sakineh discovered a passion for cooking and has since dreamed of opening her own multicultural restaurant. She has completed culinary and firefighting courses in Greece, and despite systemic barriers—such as being denied job opportunities possibly due to her background or hijab—she remains active and ambitious.
Her resilience is grounded in the love for her children, all of whom she proudly supported in becoming independent professionals. Sakineh refuses to be defined by hardship; she dances, exercises, learns, and dreams boldly. She speaks out about the human right to dignity, opportunity, and inclusion—especially for migrant women who, like her, have endured displacement and continue to build meaningful lives.
Sakineh’s story is one of courage, creativity, and a fierce commitment to crafting a better future—for herself, her family, and her community.
