Anoop Saxena
NEW DELHI: In 2003, two years after the US-led coalition overthrew the Taliban, I made my first trip to Afghanistan. Decades of war have left Kabul with damaged buildings, shoddy roads, and unreliable basic utilities. But in the middle of the devastation, there was something amazing: hope.
Over the following years, I kept coming back for coverage, covering politics, reconstruction, elections, and the lives of ordinary Afghans. One of my most memorable assignments was Afghanistan’s first presidential election under Hamid Karzai. Millions of Afghans queued to vote despite the threat of violence, believing their country was entering a new chapter.
Schools and universities reopened, independent media expanded, and women returned to education and employment. A new generation began experiencing freedoms that had been denied under Taliban rule. There were serious problems – corruption, poverty, political instability and a continuing Taliban insurgency – but there was also a sense that Afghanistan was slowly moving forward.
A different Kabul
By the mid-2000s, Kabul had a very different character. Diplomatic areas such as Wazir Akbar Khan and nearby Shahr-e Naw became heavily fortified but surprisingly vibrant enclaves for foreign diplomats, aid workers, journalists, and NGO staff.
With public bars prohibited under Afghan law, restaurants such as Bocaccio, L’Atmosphere, Gandamack Lodge, and Taverna du Liban became popular gathering places for expatriates. Behind blast walls, steel gates, and armed guards, it was possible to experience a brief version of European or American life before stepping back into the very different reality outside.
It was an unusual Afghanistan still insecure and war-torn, but increasingly connected to the international community and full of activity.
That optimism collapsed dramatically in August 2021 when the Taliban returned to power following the withdrawal of international forces.
Return of Taliban
Afghanistan presents a deeply contradictory picture.
The first thing a visitor notices is security. The constant fear of suicide attacks, roadside bombs and armed clashes that once haunted Kabul has largely disappeared. Walking through Kabul late at night as a foreigner can feel surprisingly safe.
The capital remains heavily monitored, with checkpoints and vehicle searches. Outside Kabul, the security presence is lighter. In Bamiyan, Balkh and Herat, there are relatively few checkpoints even in Mazar-e-Sharif. For ordinary Afghans, this matters. Decades of open warfare are over, and everyday security has improved considerably. But security tells only half the story.
The disappearance of women
The most disturbing transformation is the disappearance of women from public life.
Earlier, women could be seen in universities, government offices, television studios, markets and restaurants. Today, their presence in public spaces has been dramatically reduced.
Over the past five years, the Taliban have imposed sweeping restrictions on women’s education, employment, movement and participation in society. Girls have been excluded from secondary education and universities, while women have been pushed out of large sections of the workforce.
They face strict dress requirements and, in many circumstances, are expected to be accompanied by a male relative, or mahram.
The result is not simply a loss of individual freedom, but the gradual removal of half the population from Afghanistan’s economic and social life.
Band-e-Amir: a symbol of exclusion
Band-e-Amir National Park in Bamiyan is famous for its spectacular blue lakes. Afghan women are prohibited from visiting the park. Our group included foreign women tourists, and we had to arrive very early to avoid complications.
It was a quiet but powerful reminder of how restrictions can reshape society—not only by preventing people from doing certain things, but by gradually making them invisible in public life.
The crisis is being intensified by the return of millions of Afghans from Iran and Pakistan, placing additional pressure on already depleted resources.
WFP says it needs around $500 million for the coming six months, but has received only about 8 percent.
Behind every statistic is a family struggling to find food, shelter and a future.
Security and Repression
As the Taliban completed their fifth anniversary in power on August 15, there are effectively two Afghanistans.
One is safer than during the years of war. Bombings and armed clashes have declined, roads are more secure and people can travel with fewer fears of violence.
The other faces a deepening humanitarian and human-rights crisis. Women have been pushed out of education, employment and public life, millions face hunger, and humanitarian agencies are struggling for funds. The UN Security Council’s latest monitoring report also says the threat from terrorist groups based in Afghanistan has not changed significantly.
Recent developments underline the continuing repression. Human Rights Watch says Taliban authorities forcibly disappeared six staff members of a local organisation working for women’s and children’s rights.
The Taliban have also struggled for international recognition. So far, only a handful of countries have formally recognised the Taliban government, leaving Afghanistan largely isolated diplomatically.
Improved security is something the Taliban can point to, and it shouldn’t be ignored. However, peace cannot be determined solely by the lack of gunshots. Millions of people now face greater challenges in their quest for a life of dignity, particularly women and children.
Women face brunt of crisis
The World Food Programme estimates that around 19 million Afghans face acute hunger or worse. Funding shortages are so severe that WFP says it is being forced to turn away six out of seven women and children suffering from life-threatening acute malnutrition.
Around 14 million acutely hungry people have reportedly lost access to WFP food assistance.
For women, the humanitarian and economic crises overlap. Prevented from working and restricted in their movement, many have few ways to support their families. Some have described desperate situations in which they may have to marry off or even sell their daughters simply to feed their families.
