In August 2021, after a 20 year war between the Taliban and a coalition of western troops led by the US, the country finally fell to the islamic militants. The withdrawal of the coalition forces was hasty, chaotic and unprecedented. It allowed the Taliban to sweep back into power and it left the people of Afghanistan uncertain and isolated. The Taliban has not be formally recognised as a legitimate government by any nation and a claustrophobic environment of sanctions is strangling the country. UN secretary-general António Guterres warned of a “humanitarian catastrophe” and his fears are being proved right. Women are no longer allowed out in public without a Mahram, or male relative, the country has been drought riven for years and parents are being forced to take their children out of school and put them in to work to help feed their families — or in some cases, marry them off to help ease the burden of responsibility. Child marriage has become a coping mechanism for economic decline.
Kabul is a safer city to wander at night than under the previous government. Men can walk to work or access remote healthcare without fear of drone strikes or attack. There is less theft and corruption. Under the previous government these crimes went unchecked. The Taliban’s brutal punishments have become a major deterrent. The Taliban are proud of this change.
For most Afghans, however, the negative effects of economic decline far outweigh the positive security situation. The descent into poverty began before the Taliban came to power, but it is their current policies that have exacerbated the situation. Women make up half the population and half of the workforce. All those I speak to say they to want to learn and earn money to help their country, yet they can’t. Given that many of the Taliban leaders’ own daughters are being educated abroad, the policy appears to be less of an ideological one, and more political; a bargaining chip to be used against the US and Europe in return for financial aid.
In streets of Kabul today, the feeling of change might be subtle. But in the wallets of the Afghan people, in the half empty classrooms and in the homes filled with despairing young women, that change feels monumental. “As long as the Taliban are in charge, nothing good will happen. It’s been a year and nothing has changed. I don’t trust the Taliban,” Samira tells me from her darkened living room. For her and most of the Afghan people, it’s hard to know what the future holds for the country, but right now it hardly looks bright.
