Nadia Murad

The survivor who transformed unimaginable trauma into a global movement for justice

Most people know Nadia Murad as the Yazidi woman who survived ISIS captivity and won the Nobel Peace Prize. What fewer realize is that before August 2014, she was planning to open a beauty salon in her village and had never spoken publicly about anything more controversial than hairstyles. The transformation from a shy 21-year-old who dreamed of small-town entrepreneurship to a global advocate addressing the UN Security Council represents one of the most remarkable journeys in Nobel Prize history.

Timeline of Pivotal Moments

• 1993: Born in Kocho, a small Yazidi village in northern Iraq's Sinjar region
• 2014: ISIS attacks Kocho village on August 3; witnesses murder of six brothers and stepmother
• 2014: Held captive by ISIS for three months, subjected to repeated sexual violence and torture
• November 2014: Escapes captivity with help of a Sunni Muslim family who risked their lives
• 2015: Begins speaking publicly about her experiences; first addresses UN Security Council
• 2016: Appointed UN Goodwill Ambassador for the Dignity of Survivors of Human Trafficking
• 2017: Publishes memoir "The Last Girl: My Story of Captivity, and My Fight Against the Islamic State"
• 2018: Awarded Nobel Peace Prize alongside Denis Mukwege "for their efforts to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war"
• 2019: Establishes Nadia's Initiative, focusing on advocacy and support for survivors of genocide and sexual violence
• 2021: Marries Abid Shamdeen, a fellow Yazidi activist, in a ceremony that symbolized hope for their community
• Present: Continues advocacy work while pursuing law degree, focusing on accountability for ISIS crimes

The Courage to Speak the Unspeakable

When Nadia Murad first stood before the UN Security Council in December 2015, her hands shook so violently she could barely hold her prepared remarks. She had never given a public speech before, had barely finished high school, and was speaking in a language that wasn't her native Kurdish. Yet she forced herself to describe in clinical detail what ISIS had done to her and thousands of other Yazidi women and girls. "I was not alone," she would later explain. "I was speaking for every Yazidi woman and girl who could not speak for herself."

The decision to go public with her story came after months of internal struggle. In Yazidi culture, discussing sexual violence brings shame not just to the survivor but to their entire family. Traditional customs would have expected her to remain silent, to try to rebuild her life quietly. But Murad couldn't reconcile her personal healing with the knowledge that thousands of other Yazidi women and girls remained in captivity, and that the world seemed to be moving on from their plight.

Her first public appearance was actually accidental. A journalist interviewing her about the general situation of displaced Yazidis asked directly about her personal experience. Instead of deflecting, she found herself answering honestly. "Once I started talking, I couldn't stop," she recalled. "It was like a dam had burst." That interview led to an invitation to address the UN, which led to a meeting with Amal Clooney, who would become her lawyer in pursuing legal accountability for ISIS crimes.

The Nobel Moment and Its Weight

Murad learned she had won the Nobel Peace Prize while she was in the shower at her apartment in Germany, where she had been granted asylum. Her phone had been ringing incessantly, but she ignored it, assuming it was more interview requests. When she finally answered, a journalist told her the news. Her first reaction wasn't joy but disbelief, followed immediately by the weight of responsibility. "I thought about all the women still missing, still in captivity," she said. "How could I celebrate when they were still suffering?"

Her co-winner, Denis Mukwege, had been working with survivors of sexual violence for decades. Murad had been doing this work for less than four years, and only because she had no choice. The pairing highlighted something crucial about the Nobel Committee's decision: they weren't just honoring experience and expertise, but the moral courage to transform personal trauma into universal advocacy.

The Nobel ceremony itself was emotionally overwhelming. Murad wore traditional Yazidi dress and spoke in Kurdish, with simultaneous translation—a deliberate choice to honor her community and culture. But the most powerful moment came when she dedicated the prize to "all the victims of sexual violence around the world and to all my people." The camera caught her wiping away tears, and for a moment, the composed advocate became the grieving young woman who had lost everything.

The Human Cost of Bearing Witness

What the public rarely sees is the psychological toll of Murad's advocacy work. Every speech, every interview, every legal proceeding requires her to relive her trauma. She suffers from PTSD and has spoken candidly about the ongoing struggle with depression and anxiety. "People think that because I won the Nobel Prize, I must be healed," she has said. "But healing isn't a destination. It's something I work on every day."

The constant travel and public appearances have also complicated her efforts to build a normal life. She has described the surreal experience of testifying about rape and torture in the morning, then trying to go grocery shopping or have dinner with friends in the evening. The transition between her public role as a global advocate and her private identity as a young woman trying to heal has been one of her greatest challenges.

Her marriage to Abid Shamdeen in 2021 represented a significant personal milestone. In Yazidi tradition, survivors of sexual violence often struggle to find acceptance within their community, despite religious leaders' declarations that they remained "pure." Her wedding was not just a personal celebration but a powerful statement about the possibility of love and normalcy after trauma.

Beyond the Headlines: The Advocate's Evolution

While Murad is known primarily for her work on sexual violence, her advocacy has evolved to encompass broader issues of minority rights, religious freedom, and genocide prevention. Through Nadia's Initiative, she has worked on documentation projects, supported survivors in multiple countries, and pushed for legal accountability mechanisms that extend far beyond the ISIS case.

Her approach to advocacy is notably practical rather than purely symbolic. She has lobbied for specific legislative changes, supported concrete legal cases, and focused on measurable outcomes for survivors. "I don't want to just give speeches," she has said. "I want to see results." This pragmatic approach reflects her background—she comes from a farming family where problems were solved through direct action, not abstract discussion.

One of her most significant but lesser-known contributions has been her work on documentation and evidence preservation. Working with legal experts, she has helped develop protocols for collecting and preserving testimony from survivors of sexual violence that can be used in legal proceedings. This technical work lacks the drama of her UN speeches but may prove more lasting in its impact.

The Politics of Recognition

Murad's Nobel Prize was not without controversy. Some critics argued that the committee was engaging in "trauma tourism," elevating a survivor's story over the work of established organizations and experts. Others questioned whether the intense media focus on her personal story might overshadow the broader systematic issues she was trying to address.

Within the Yazidi community, reactions were mixed. While many celebrated the international attention her prize brought to their plight, others worried that the focus on sexual violence would further stigmatize their community. Some male Yazidi leaders initially resented that a young woman had become the primary spokesperson for their people's suffering.

Murad has navigated these tensions with remarkable diplomatic skill. She consistently emphasizes that she speaks not just for herself but for her entire community, and she has worked to amplify other Yazidi voices, particularly those of male survivors and community leaders. She has also been careful to frame her work within broader human rights contexts, avoiding the trap of becoming solely identified with one specific tragedy.

Revealing Quotes

On her motivation for speaking out: "I didn't choose to be an activist. I became an activist because I had no other choice. When you survive something like this, you have two options: you can let it destroy you, or you can use it to help others. I chose to help others because that's the only way I could live with myself."

From her Nobel acceptance speech: "The fact that I am standing here today is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the power of hope. But I am not here as a symbol. I am here as a voice for those who cannot speak, and I will continue to speak until every last girl is freed and every perpetrator is brought to justice."

On the ongoing nature of healing: "People ask me if I have forgiven my captors. But forgiveness is not something you do once and then it's finished. It's a process, and some days I'm closer to it than others. What I can say is that I refuse to let hatred consume me, because that would mean they won."

On her Nobel Prize: "This prize is not mine alone. It belongs to every survivor who found the courage to speak, to every person who helped us when we had nowhere to turn, and to everyone who refuses to accept that sexual violence is just 'what happens in war.' It's a reminder that the world is watching, and that gives me hope."

On her vision for the future: "I dream of a day when no woman, anywhere in the world, has to fear that her body will be used as a weapon of war. That's not just a dream—it's a goal we can achieve if we work together. But it requires all of us to act, not just to feel sorry."

Legacy of Transformation

Nadia Murad's story teaches us that heroism often emerges not from strength but from the decision to transform vulnerability into purpose. Her journey from victim to advocate illustrates how individual courage can catalyze global movements, but also reveals the ongoing personal cost of bearing witness to injustice.

Her Nobel Prize represents something unique in the award's history: recognition not just for what someone accomplished, but for who they chose to become in the face of unimaginable circumstances. It acknowledges that sometimes the most powerful form of peace work is simply refusing to let trauma have the final word.

Perhaps most importantly, Murad's advocacy demonstrates that justice and healing are not individual pursuits but collective responsibilities. Her insistence on speaking for others, even when it would be easier to focus on her own recovery, reflects a profound understanding that personal liberation and social justice are inextricably linked. In a world that often treats survivors as symbols rather than people, she has managed to maintain both her humanity and her moral authority—showing us that the most powerful advocates are often those who never wanted the job but accepted it anyway.