Former 'Taliban Girl' Escapes Forced Marriage and Rebuilds Life Through National Service

Roz Feldman grew up in a strict religious sect known as the "Taliban sect" or "Shalim women," where she was raised under intense psychological control and isolation. Covered head to toe in traditional attire, she stopped attending school at age eight and moved frequently to evade authorities, even sleeping in cemeteries. At 14, she was abruptly informed of her arranged marriage to a stranger, planned for two weeks later. However, just before the wedding in Jerusalem, police raided the event and arrested all attendees, removing Roz from her home by court order and placing her in a youth shelter.

Initially distrustful and refusing to eat or engage with staff, Roz was transferred between several religious boarding schools. Despite some positive relationships, she remained deeply influenced by the sect's teachings, including strict dress codes and prohibitions on eye contact with men. For years, she maintained contact with the sect through a smuggled phone, believing she would return to her mother and community once she turned 18.

At 17 and a half, Roz was moved to the "Or Shalom" family home, where dedicated staff, especially social worker Nahami Knaan, patiently supported her. A turning point came after a visit to the Israeli Center for Victims of Cults, where Roz was asked if she wanted her future children to endure her experiences. This question, combined with a decisive phone call to her sect contact where she refused to leave the shelter at night, marked her break from the sect.

Roz gradually shed the sect's restrictive clothing and rules, learning basic life skills and decision-making. She chose to volunteer in national service at the same type of shelter where she had lived, helping children removed from harmful environments. Recently honored at a ceremony at the President's Residence for her exceptional service, Roz credits music and the support of her mentors for her transformation. She acknowledges that without that critical phone call, she might have been trapped in an oppressive marriage with children.

Roz's story highlights the challenges of escaping closed religious communities and the importance of patient, compassionate support in rebuilding lives. Her work now serves as a beacon of hope for vulnerable youth facing similar struggles.