The Taliban invaded Kabul on August 15th, firing only celebratory shots. The Taliban’s invasion of Kabul on 15 August was a celebration for Afghan women. They had taken away all their rights. Five of them were sending daily diary entries to BBC, which give a snapshot of their rapidly changing lives.
The Handmaid’s Tale is a TV series that was based on Margaret Attwood’s dystopian novel. The main character June Osborne arrives at June’s office to discover that the new leaders of the country have banned women from the workplace.
Her boss gathers all of the female employees and tells them that they need to pack their belongings and head home.
Maari, a former soldier of the Afghan Army, had almost the same experience on 15 August 2021. She leaves home at 07:30 to go work in a ministry. She is expecting a full day of conferences and meetings. She steps outside and notices the streets are quiet. But she continues her journey, checking her phone for any meetings.
“You’re here to work!” When she comes in, her stunned male colleagues exclaim: “You’ve come to work!”
She replies, “I don’t believe Kabul will fall.”
Her boss confronts her and she can’t even put her bag down. He orders her to tell the other women to go home. She did as instructed, telling women to go home from each room. She refuses to go home when her boss requests.
She says, “As long my male colleagues stay and work, I’m also happy.”
Maari is not just any staff member. Maari is a senior official with a strong military record and her boss accepts what she has to say.
As the days pass, it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore reports about the Taliban invading Kabul. Maari’s boss decides that the ministry should be shut down and everyone should go home.
Khatera, a geography instructor, has started a new lesson. Her 40 students, all teenager boys, flip through their books in search of the right page.
Soon, other teachers are entering the classroom with their phones. Facebook has a variety of reports. Some say that the Taliban are in Qargha (on the outskirts) of Kabul. Others claim they are in Koht-e Sangi which is already within the city. Soon, the headteacher stops teaching and sends everyone home.
Khatera sees many people running from one direction to the other, with children and luggage, as she reaches her bus stop. Traffic is at an impasse.
She writes, “Everyone’s sargardaan” – Dari for “lost”. It’s almost like the Day of Judgement.
Khatera begins to walk. She’s initially not concerned, but then she sees Afghan soldiers walking towards the airport, their bags on their backs. Khatera’s children are following them, still holding their mothers’ scarves. Everyone is leaving.
Khatera starts to jog and her heart race. She now knows that the Taliban are back.
She keeps repeating, “It’s the most terrible nightmare,” under her breath.
Around the same time, Zala (a student at American University of Afghanistan) receives an email stating that she will be evacuated to the USA within 48 hours.
She travels quickly to Shar-e Naw in north-west Kabul to shop for last-minute travel necessities.
She also suddenly notices people running around and asks them what’s the matter. She stops the first person she sees, but they are too busy to answer. Then a man informs her that the Taliban have taken Kabul.
Zala goes numb.
“I am losing all my strength and my hands and feet are shaking. “How will I get home?” She thinks to her self. She weeps as she walks past cafes and restaurants, where she used to meet up with friends, drink coffee, and listen to music. She sees her entire life in flashes.
Although she is too young to have been subjected to Taliban rule, she has heard horror stories about her parents who lived in their era during the 1990s. This will be her destiny unless she boards the plane.
Wahida Amiri was a 31 year old law graduate who ran a library in Kabul before the takeover. She had nearly 5,000 books and her dream was for Afghanistan to be a hub for reading.
She believes that the Taliban soldiers arriving on the streets to dictate how people live is an act of injustice and must be challenged.
She becomes more angry as the years go by.
“Why doesn’t anyone say anything?” “Why isn’t anybody doing anything?” She asks everyone she meets.
Wahida is no longer allowed to work and now spends her days on her balcony. She used to love this place because it was her favorite spot in the house. There she could hear dogs barking, birds singing, and people talking. It’s now dead quiet. She would count the planes that left Kabul airport in late August, sometimes counting 10, sometimes 20, per day carrying Afghans to their homeland.
“If everyone is leaving, then who will stay?” She wonders. Are there any well-educated females left?
“Afghanistan has been wounded.” She thinks it’s broken into pieces.
Wahida was contacted by a friend who used his telephones one night. She says, “Let’s protest.”
A group of women meet at a friend’s house on Friday afternoon. They call themselves the Spontaneous Movement of Afghan Women Fighters and march to their demands for equal rights on the 4th of September.
They meet at Foroshgah and plan to march all the ways to Afghanistan’s presidential palace. They are met by the Taliban soldiers at the Ministry of Finance after they have walked only a few miles.
They are numerous. They are circling us. They approach us and tell us we are peacefully protesting. But before we realize it, they have us pinned against a wall and fire tear gas at our faces,” she said.
Many women claim that they are stopped and lashed with whips.
It is the day that the Taliban proclaim victory in Panjshir Valley. This small province in northern Afghanistan has been known for resisting the Soviet Union and Taliban during the 1990s. It will be the last remaining territory under the control of the militant group in 2021.
Wahida, whose family hails from the Panjshir valley, returns to the streets once more, this time along with her sister and six male friends.
A group of Taliban soldiers with AK-47s meet Wahida as she demands a ceasefire in Panjshir. Wahida is approached by one of the men and he threatens her, saying: “You’d better go to home and make lunch.”
Wahida says, “I don’t fear your gun.” “I can debate with you on any topic you wish. I won’t be returning home to cook.
Protests were banned by the Taliban the next day.
Healthcare workers are too valuable to be lost.
Mahera, a young physician who specialised in obstetrics in a busy hospital in the northern province of the country was able to stay at home for the first week. However, she received a call asking her to return.
However, it was not easy to work under Taliban rule.
Mahera claims, “They snapped at everyone.” “When patients complained about the cost of medicine or lack of service, they would intimidate us. They believed we were unfairly treating patients.
Many of the country’s medical personnel have fled, and many clinics have shut down. Mahera travels to 12 districts now, providing first-line care. This is critical because Afghanistan has one the highest rates of infant and maternal mortality in the world.
“On my first day back, a chaderi (a covering from head-to-toe) was what I wore. She says that I was shaking underneath it. “But the Taliban got used it over time and I no longer had to wear it anymore.”
Khatera receives a call from the Taliban asking her to visit the school. She takes off her school clothes and walks to her “happy spot”. It’s the smell of chalk as she writes on the board and the cheeky questions from her students about capital cities that she misses. She is full of excitement.
Her students are delighted to see her when she arrives at school. They grab their planners and ask her for autographs, just like celebrities. She is immediately called to the office of the headteacher.
All of her female colleagues are present. The women are instructed to sign the register and then return home.
The headteacher stated that the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan continues to prohibit women from working.
Why was all the female teachers not called in? Khatera believes that the headteacher might want to curry favor with the Taliban by showing them the signed signatures of women who are willing to work.
She stops at the school gate to take a look at the classroom where she has been teaching for the past 10 years. She wants to tell her boys that she will be returning one day but can’t keep her tears from bursting.
Khatera was fearful and shaken on the day that the Taliban invaded Kabul. But this breaks her heart.
Maari and her former Afghan National Army comrades have been hiding in the shadows since the Taliban’s arrival. Maari does not believe that former servicemen and women were promised amnesty.
“They must come to my place several times and ask people on the streets where they are. She says they claim we have weapons in our houses and want to speak to us.
Maari’s colleague in the fight against Taliban knocked on Maari’s door one day. She recognized a shopkeeper through the peephole, but she didn’t open her door.
He said, “They have a picture of you they’re sharing with everyone,” and he spoke to the closed door as if she was listening. “I saw it myself. Please leave if you are still here. You can save yourself.
Maari, a Shia Hazara woman, is especially vulnerable. Her family was recently forced from their home in central Afghanistan by the Taliban. She doesn’t know where she is going.
She tells me, “I may die from hunger because I can’t move outside my home, and nobody will know.”
Maari claims that the international community has forgotten about female Afghan soldiers. She reaches out every day to help people outside of her country, but they seem far away from her.
Zala was born in the aftermath of the US-led invasion. Because her father is a wealthy man, she can afford to study law and political science at a prestigious university.
She was not able to make the first flight for which she was instructed.
She has been informed every few weeks since then that she will be evacuated. Her family has made it a routine to pack bags and then unfold the bedding again, before she is evacuated.
We have been informed that we will be evacuated within the next 24 hours. Therefore, we are putting away all cutlery and plates. She writes that they have told us to not pack large bags so I am just packing a backpack.
This teenager, who was always open to trying new looks, has now swapped her skinny jeans and colourful scarves for a simple black hijab.
She says, “I never used wear anything like that.” It takes some time for her to get used to it. “Now it’s time to put on the scarf.” To avoid being recognized when she ventures outside, she covers her face.
It’s been exactly 100 days ago that the Taliban invaded Afghanistan and entered Kabul. Girls are still banned from secondary school in most provinces including Kabul. Women are also barred from working, with their roles being filled by men. Cold winter temperatures are causing the economy to collapse. According to the World Food Programme 95% of Afghans don’t have enough food.
Khatera, the schoolteacher, and Mahera, the doctor are the sole breadwinners in their families. They are struggling to provide food for their families.
Both have not been paid in months.
Around this time every year, the central heating systems of Afghanistan are turned on. But not Khatera’s. She cannot afford it.
Wahida Amiri feels more tired every day. She is determined to be a voice for Afghan women.
Maari managed to escape Kabul, and now lives in an undisclosed area. Two days later, the Taliban arrived at her home.
Khatera is content to be at home, despite the cold, and dreams of returning to school.
Zala still awaits to be evacuated. She receives an email today about a possible evacuation within the next 24 hours. She is beginning to think she might never leave.
Mahera was recently approached by a Taliban-linked person to propose marriage. He proposes to her, but she doesn’t want him. Each day, she is faced with a difficult decision: save the lives of her patients or her own.
Except Wahida Amiri, all names have been changed
Illustrations by Ghazal Farkhari @rasmorwaj
BBC 100 Women annually names 100 inspiring and influential women from around the globe. Follow BBC 100 Women on Instagram and Facebook. Use #BBC100Women to join the conversation
