A New Dawn: Exploring Afghanistan, from Torkham to Kabul, after the return of the Taliban
This is the latest in a series of Dispatches from Afghanistan, a new series by LevantX , which explores life in the recently created Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan after the return of the Taliban.
I walked down the cage-like corridor through no man’s land from Pakistan into Afghanistan with two rucksacks and my breath held. The stare of the Taliban guard as I approached the Afghan border quickly brought a sharpness to my focus.
Hamed was there waiting for me as soon as I stepped into Afghanistan. He grabbed my shoulder and said hello. It was a welcome relief to be greeted by his big smile. Hamed is a university graduate from Kabul hoping to study for a masters in Business. He is also a brilliant translator.
“I hate this place. I want to be back fighting in the mountains.”
He pointed to a white Honda Accord where I was met by another big smile and a wave. Hamed’s cousin Abdulhaq was to be our driver.
As we approached the car we were pulled aside by the Taliban and taken to the “Intelligence Office” in Torkham. This turned out to be a room hastily emptied by the Afghan forces and then filled with flowers still in their plastic packaging and Talib fighters lounging around with little to do.
“What the hell is this job? It’s very boring for me.” The Taliban soldier wasn’t keen on his new surroundings. Bureaucracy wasn’t his thing. “I hate this place. I want to be back fighting in the mountains.”
Despite having a visa and a letter from the new Taliban ministry of information, I was not allowed to go anywhere. I managed to get the Minster of Information on the phone but the surly fighter didn’t want to talk to him. In fact, he wanted to go and have lunch while we waited alone in the hot office.
Finally our host's superior arrived two hours later, took one look at my paperwork, asked our guard why we were waiting and told us to be on our way. The drive from Torkham to Kabul was spectacular. The landscape was dry, due to Afghanistan experiencing its second drought in four years, but also green and verdant in areas. Mountains appeared in the distance through the haze while farmers worked the flat plains in between them.
We travelled through 8 or 9 Taliban checkpoints, I lost count, on the road to Kabul. I was desperate to find out what life in Afghanistan under Taliban rule was like. How the Taliban felt about their victory. What they now wanted from the international community.
Immediately, evidence of the Taliban take-over was visible. The new white flag of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan was everywhere to be seen. Even in the dark it shone from the tops of buildings, from the sides of bridges and from the windshields of passing cars. The abundance of flags was swiftly followed by an abundance of heavily armed men in traditional Pashtun clothing driving around in newly acquired army pick up trucks. They looked happy and concentrated. The war was over. They had won. The battle to bring order and stability to a war torn country had only just begun.
The next morning I set out with Hamed and Abdulhaq to explore the city. The first scene I came across was the scrum of men waiting outside the Azizi Bank headquarters in Kabul. Afghanistan’s foreign reserves are locked up in the United States’ federal reserve and the international community is withholding funds from the Taliban for the time being. Money is scarce and men and women are queuing for days at a time to receive their wages or withdraw their savings. A limit of $200 withdrawals a week has been implemented.
44 year-old Mohibullah from Kunduz told me he had been waiting 2 days to collect his wages. He had no money to return to Kunduz and was sleeping in a nearby mosque. He was trapped in Kabul until he was able to receive his money.
“I’ll go back to Kunduz when my problem here is solved. I have children, a family, but I have no food for them, “ he told me.
Two men with a megaphone would stand and read out the names of those eligible to collect their money that day. The scene was calm but crowded. People finding respite from the sun under the trees surrounding the entrance. The Taliban patrolling the streets would slow down to survey the scene from their pick up trucks before speeding off.
The Taliban were everywhere. On every street and street corner. Outside every embassy. In front of every institution. They were in charge now and wanted everyone to know it. The elite forces wore the camouflage uniforms of the Afghan soldiers who had fled or the American soldiers who had left. They carried Ak47s or M16s and drove around in pick-up trucks they had commandeered from the previous military.
“We don’t like the Taliban but we like the security.”
It was an intimidating sight. I have never seen that much weaponry carried openly in the streets day in and day out. The Taliban foot soldiers wore the traditional Pashtun clothing from the rural areas. The one anomaly in their attire was their new choice of footwear. The closest thing they could find to military boots were high top sneakers. An interesting sartorial choice but one that made them quick on their feet should unrest break out or ISIS-K attack.
Unrest seemed of little worry though.. There is no one to fight. Thieves have decided it’s better to keep their limbs rather than risk having them chopped off as a punishment. Relative calm has returned to the streets of Kabul following the desperate scenes of exodus at the airport a couple of weeks earlier. Street vendors and fruit sellers were going about their daily business as usual.
“We don’t like the Taliban but we like the security. The situation is better on the streets. We will wait to see what happens to the country with the Taliban, but for now the streets are safe,” Dr Wakil Foroogh told me.
For men, the streets are free and safe. For women, it is another story. Women were visible on the streets but not nearly as many as there used to be. The Taliban has denied women access to school, university and work for now and has told them to stay home. They have repeatedly said that women will be in government and that they will return to education. However, months after the US withdrawal this has yet to be put into practice.
As the afternoon sun begins to sink, Taliban fighters pose for selfies in Kabul Zoo. They looked at the exotic birds with their automatic rifles slung over their shoulders. Laughing and pointing with their fellow soldiers. Families move about with ease and stop to chat to the Taliban. Young married couples walk together but groups of young men and women stay apart. Stealing furtive glances every now and then.
Not far away at the top of Wazir Mohammad Akhbar Khan park, while watching the sunset over Kabul, I was spontaneously joined by a host of Taliban fighters; traditional clothing, quiet demeanours and large glinting machine guns included. They admired the roses planted around the park, they stopped for photos despite the Taliban banning photographs and they gathered to pray in the magenta evening light. I was allowed to stay and photograph them.
One senior Taliban member asked Hamed who I was and where I was from. After explaining I was a journalist from the UK a conversation struck up. What did I think of Afghanistan? What did I think of the situation? I told my hosts that Afghanistan was a beautiful country but that there were many issues. The UN has described Afghanistan as “on the verge of a humanitarian catastrophe.” Poverty is endemic. The drought is causing untold hardship. Internally displaced people are living in tents in the parks of Kabul. Heroin addicts sit on every street corner.
“Tell the world the Taliban are good. That we want peace,” the senior Talib said.
I can’t do that, I told him. You need to prove it. I then pointed to the city below us. You have won this, I told the Talib, you have driven out the “invaders.” Now you need to prove to the international community you can govern fairly. I’m not sure what the future holds for Afghanistan but not allowing women to go to school isn’t the way forward.
The Talib turned to Hamed with a smile and said something quietly in Pashto. Hamed smiled nervously.
‘What did he say?” I asked.
“He said you are brave to talk to them like that.”
I laughed nervously and looked over to a Taliban fighter in dark grey clothing leaning forward to admire a red rose.
“I’m not sure about that,” I said. “What I do know is that the world is watching Afghanistan and time will tell.”
This is latest in a series of Dispatches from Afghanistan. Next week Oliver speaks to Hazara women in Kabul.