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Saudi Arabia has issued its first set of driver's licenses to women, marking a new era for women's rights in the country.

On June 4, 2018, 10 Saudi Arabian women received their licenses, and many more are on the way. Though these women already held driver's licenses from other countries, including Canada, the U.K., and Lebanon, they took a driving test before being granted licenses in Saudi Arabia.

The announcement came ahead of a ban on women driving that is set to be lifted on June 24. Saudi Arabia's King Salman decided to change the antiqued laws last year, and licenses are finally going into effect for thousands of women around the country. The country's Centre for International Communication has predicted 2,000 women will join that first group of 10 by next week, according to The Telegraph.

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"The general directorate of traffic today started replacing international driving licenses recognized in the kingdom with Saudi licenses, in preparation for allowing women to drive," the official Saudi Press Agency said in a statement.

The move marks a historic victory for women's rights in Saudi Arabia.

The nation has long been criticized for its troubling treatment of women. It was the only country in the world where women were not allowed drive, and incredibly brave women activists have been fighting against the rule for years.

While we should absolutely celebrate this important feminist win, we should be careful in how we discuss Saudi Arabian women's lives and rights.

As predominately Muslim country, Saudi Arabia — like many religiously led nations — has subjected its women to many ideas and standards that are problematic. But Westerners often discuss women's rights in Saudi Arabia from a pitying perspective, which creates an air of superiority.

This response isn't OK, but it's kind of the pot calling the kettle black. With European countries like Ireland just reversing laws that prohibit abortions and America currently grappling with a pervasive culture of sexual assault, it's clear that all nations are still earning how to treat its women like equals.

Photo by Amer Hilabi/AFP/Getty Images.

Saudi Arabian women have fought long and hard for their right to get behind the wheel, and their actions will have implications for women around the world.

As evidenced in Ireland, the U.S., Kenya, and Saudi Arabia, women are fighting for their right to live freely, safely, and happy.

Now, Saudi Arabia's got the keys to keep the mission moving.

Rozan Ahmed’s career path took her from the music industry to the United Nations — and that was just in her 20s.

Though she was born in London, Ahmed was raised with a great appreciation for her parents’ native Sudan, as well as a fascination for how people both create and perceive stories and other content across the world. She was particularly interested in the way that the historical influences of the pharaohs, the Nubians, the Arabs, and so many others had contributed to the rich and multifaceted culture of the northern African nation.

Despite that robust history, she realized the entire African continent had still been lumped into a kind of "single story." Even the people she knew in Sudan bought into that same negative image. "How is this allowed to happen?" she wondered. "Is this purposeful? Surely there are more people than just me who are visiting the continent."

Sudanese women. Photo by David Stanley/Flickr.

She began to question her career path and the ways her identity as a black British Muslim woman fit within a local and global context. Then she met a prince.

Prince Fahad Al Saud, that is, the grandson of the brother of the king of Saudi Arabia.

A graduate of Stanford University, Al Saud was part of the original team behind Facebook in Arabic — and he was largely socialized around forward-thinking, independent women, according to Ahmed, and is a stark contrast to what some people might expect from a wealthy Arab prince. "Fahad is certainly aware that he's a man," she says, "but he leans on women because he believes in them more, and was raised around strong women."

Ahmed and Al Saud at the 2015 Tribeca Film Festival. Photo by Astrid Stawiarz/Getty Images for IWC.

A mutual friend introduced Ahmed and Al Saud. Like her, he was frustrated by the way his culture was portrayed in media. This inspired him to create a new media company called Na3am, a play on the Arabic word for "yes."

Given Ahmed’s background in stories and culture, they were a perfect creative match.

In 2015, Na3am announced the launch of "Saudi Girls Revolution," a series of interconnected video games and comic books set in a post-apocalyptic world full of awesome Arab heroines.

Early character sketches from "Saudi Girls Revolution," provided courtesy of Na3am.

"It is the story of the girls breaking out and liberating the Arab empire by replacing its leaders," Al Saud said when the series was announced. "We're focusing on trying to represent different stories and demographics of Saudi women in the protagonists we have."

The seven protagonists — all Saudi women — travel the desert wastes with motorcycles and jetpacks, facing off against mutant enemies and an evil regime of oppressive men who control the last remaining resources in the land. In its earliest hype, "Saudi Girls Revolution" was already receiving favorable comparisons to American movies like "Mad Max: Fury Road."

A few of the "Saudi Girls Revolution" comic book covers, courtesy of Na3am.

"'Saudi Girls Revolution' is an attempt to show the rest of the world that there’s a lot more to us as Arab women," adds Ahmed, who serves as editor for the comics. "We’re strong. We’re powerful. We know we overcome. We’re badass. We’re so many other things."

Of course, some detractors have been eager to point out the ironies of the SGR universe, considering the real-life treatment of some Saudi women.

It is still illegal for women to drive in Saudi Arabia, and the country's workforce is still overwhelmingly male. But video games and comics featuring motorcycle-riding badasses aren't restricted by the same expectations.

"It's a fictional universe, and we're showing the world as we want it to be, not things as they are," Ahmed says.

Image from "Latifa #1" by Fahad Al Saud and Stan Berkowitz, illustrated by Sebastian Navas. Used with permission.

While things are far from perfect for women in Saudi Arabia, Arab women in other countries have made great gains in recent years. "The Arab world is so varied when it comes to female achievement. Of course there’s setbacks, but there’s setbacks everywhere you go," Ahmed adds.

"It comes down to choosing which problems you prefer. I prefer to celebrate the beauty that comes forth from the world, particularly Africa and Arabia, and I use that beauty to address the problems as well."

From "Latifa #1" by Fahad Al Saud and Stan Berkowitz, illustrated by Sebastian Navas. Used with permission.

"I believe that we are living in the future right now, and it is inclusive," Ahmed says. "'Saudi Girls Revolution' is a part of that future. So get on the ride and enjoy it with us, because it’s a beautiful ride."

The first chapter of the comic was released in November 2016 and focuses on a character named Latifa, whose name means "compassionate" in Arabic despite the fact that her story is one of vengeance. "For me, it represents the ability to be both. It raises the question of: When is it right to fight?" Ahmed says.

That's exactly why something like "Saudi Girls Revolution" is so exciting and so important for the world right now: It helps us to embrace the duality of our selves while inspiring greater change on a personal and global scale.

Every day, Salwa wakes up at 5 a.m. to catch the bus to her college, but most days, her first class isn't until noon.

She can't take a later bus because there is no later bus.

She can't drive herself to school either. She's not allowed.

So when she arrives on campus hours before her class? She waits.

Salwa lives in Saudi Arabia, where women have been banned from driving cars for decades.

Saudi women are forced to rely on rides from friends, family, and "male guardians." Photo by Fayez Nureldine/AFP/Getty Images.

There's no actual law on the books banning women from driving; it's against the social values set by religious clerics who advise the king and can ban pretty much whatever they want. They've argued that allowing women to drive would have serious negative impacts on society — everything from a "chaotic" mixing of genders in public to claiming that somehow the act of driving pushes up on the pelvis in a way that would cause birth defects. Which is, you know ... insane.

So Salwa is left taking the bus.

Leaving school to get to her internship at a nearby hospital is no picnic either.

"Female students are not allowed to exit the university without permission from a male guardian," Salwa told Upworthy through a translator. "This male guardian can be a father, brother, uncle, or even a cousin. So every time I want to leave the university, I must have two copies of a paper containing my male guardian's signature. I have to give the female security a copy so she'll let me leave, then I must give another copy to a security man who is always standing at the bus door. He doesn't let any girl ride the bus without this paper."

King Saud University, where Salwa goes to school. Photo by Basil Al Bayati/Wikimedia Commons.

Even though she has to plan her entire day navigating around these rules, Salwa is getting her education.

She's a senior majoring in clinical laboratory science at King Saud University in Riyadh: a city that once banned women from entering a certain Starbucks after a wall fell down that had previously separated families from single people.

(Other things banned in Saudi Arabia include Pokemon and cat selfies. Not just cats or selfies, but cat selfies: pictures of one's self with a cat or cats ... or anything else.)

Understandably, it's the strict prohibitions put upon women that anger Salwa the most.

Photo by Fayez Nureldine/AFP/Getty Images.

"I'm really annoyed because I'm not a minor [who should] be treated like this," she told Upworthy. "I'm an adult girl who's reached the legal age. But they treat us like kids."

Recently, Uber announced a deal with the government in Saudi Arabia. Could this be the answer for women like Salwa who need to get around?

The ride-hailing service just announced a $3.5 billion investment the Saudi government, which marks the biggest single source overseas investment in the company's history and possibly a new chapter for Silicon Valley tech. Given that Uber has experienced some recent regulatory issues in parts of Europe, including the conviction of two of its French executives, it makes sense they are more aggressively pursuing markets elsewhere, like the Middle East and Asia.

Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images.

But it's not as simple as it sounds. Uber has partnered with a government that banned half its population from driving.

So when Saudi women utilize Uber, they're now giving the government a financial incentive not to lift the driving ban. Many of them, including Salwa, find that insulting and exploitative.

"Saudi Arabia is now taking benefits from Uber economically," she told Upworthy. "Thus, the government won't give us our rights since they are earning huge amounts of money due to this partnership. I'm here as a Saudi women calling for the withdrawal of Uber since it is the cause of a lot of suffering for us and makes our rights delayed."

Photo by Fayez Nureldine/AFP/Getty Images.

She's not alone. Saudi women recently took to Twitter in big numbers to announce a boycott.

Before long, the hashtag "Saudi women announce Uber boycott," (which, yes, is shorter in Arabic) had 8,500 mentions in a week.

Uber spokeswoman Jill Hazelbaker responded to criticism of the deal saying, "Of course we think women should be allowed to drive. In the absence of that, we have been able to provide extraordinary mobility that didn’t exist before — and we’re incredibly proud of that.”

But for Saudi women like Salwa, the driving ban isn't just a matter of getting around. It's about fairness.

"The clerics here are against women working, driving, or being independent," Salwa told Upworthy. "They claim that men's prestige will be lost if women did all that... Girls here are considered property."

Women attending a spring festival in Riyadh. Photo by Hassan Ammar/AFP/Getty Images.

Since speaking out against Uber and her government, Salwa says she has been harassed and threatened on social media. She's not afraid, but she is angry. "If I could leave Saudi Arabia without getting permission from my male guardian, I would leave," she says.

Tomorrow, when Salwa wakes up at 5 a.m. to begin her commute, she still won't have the right to drive.

But she'll continue pursuing her education. She'll continue building her career, and she'll continue speaking her mind, fighting to be a person in a world that tells her she's property.

Maybe one day when the anger and courage of women like Salwa forces Saudi Arabia to a tipping point, she'll be free to walk, drive, take the bus, or take a cat selfie — whenever she wants.

For now though, she has to get to school.

Before world leaders finally signed the hugely important, comprehensive agreement on ending climate change at the COP21 conference in Paris, there was an unusual dispute.

It was a small thing, but one that threatened to derail the negotiations and had seemingly little to do with the environment.

Climate change activists demonstrate at the COP21 conference in Paris. Photo by Miguel Medina/AFP/Getty Images.

Three countries requested that language about human rights and gender equality be removed from the operative part of the agreement before they signed.

Even weirder was the combination of countries making that request: Saudi Arabia, the United States, and Norway. Norway was ranked the second-most gender-equal country in the 2015 Global Gender Gap Index, while the United States came in at #28. Saudi Arabia ranked near the bottom, at 134th.

According to Human Rights Watch, an early draft of the COP21 agreement included a commitment for countries to respect both human rights and gender equality as part of their plans to end climate change.

By Dec. 12, which was intended to be the last day of COP21, these three countries voiced their opposition to including that language in Article 2, which is the part of the agreement which states its purpose.

While only three countries spoke out explicitly against including human rights language in Article 2, others — including various European Union countries — did so by not taking a public position, said Katharina Rall, research fellow at Human Rights Watch.

"I think sometimes silence on an issue like this can also be interpreted by others, and has been interpreted by others, as opposition," Rall told Upworthy.

The language matters because protecting human rights as part of addressing climate change is hugely important.

According to the Huffington Post's Keith Peterman, the UN High Commissioner on Human Rights, speaking at a COP21 press briefing, asserted everyone's right to life, food, clean water, sanitation, and health.

A changing climate directly inhibits access to these basic human rights.

As Negendra Kumar Kumal, a representative of the Nepal Federation of Indigenous Nationalities, told the Huffington Post, despite the fact that her tribe is "not the main contributor to emissions ... we are experiencing unpredictable weather [including] changing snowfall and rain patterns."

Indigenous activists demonstrated at the COP21 conference in Paris. Photo by Martin Bureau/AFP/Getty Images.

A changing climate also affects women disproportionately, especially in developing nations.

"If you undermine poor livelihoods, who has to pick up the pieces? Who has to put food on the table? Who has to go further in drought for firewood?" former Irish President Mary Robinson pointed out in an interview with Democracy Now.

Representatives of indigenous peoples of the Peruvian Amazon at COP21. Photo by Patrick Kovarik/AFP/Getty Images.

In the end, a compromise was reached. The disputed language is in the preamble.

Instead of including the language about human rights and gender equality in Article 2, it was kept inthe preamble of the final agreement, with indigenous rights, women's rights, and the rights of other vulnerable groups being mentioned specifically.

And on Dec. 13, the historic agreement was signed.

In the final version, the preamble recognizes countries' legal obligations to their citizens based on human rights law, which is important when it comes to addressing climate change. That's a really good thing.

But not everyone is thrilled by the compromise. Including the language in the preamble instead of in the actual body of the agreement weakens it.

"It's more difficult to make an argument that there is an obligation to implement the preamble as such, without reference to any other article," Rall said.

Still, Rall clarified, because the whole agreement is a "binding international treaty," the preamble still has "legal meaning."

Guaranteeing human rights shouldn't be so controversial.

Why do international agreements concerning basic human rights need so much negotiation? And, most frustrating of all, when we're this close to a binding, universal agreement on climate change, why hold up this progress on something that should be as uncontroversial as human rights and equality for all?

"It's not enough to just write it into the preamble, and say: 'OK, now we're done with this. We've dealt with this question,'" cautioned Rall. She says that various indigenous groups were unhappy with the ultimate result.

Still, she's optimistic. She hopes these groups are able to follow up on the agreement in their own countries, as well as globally.

The least we can do is help apply that pressure.