By Zahra Nader and Atia FarAzar
Though Anisa was born with a physical disability in her left leg, it didn’t prevent her from pursuing her education. Despite her family’s dire financial situation, she completed teachers college while working three precarious jobs. After her graduation, she was hired by an NGO to supervise their operation in her province.
She lost her job after the Taliban took over last year. That’s when things started to deteriorate for her family. Her husband, a daily wage labourer, couldn’t find work and their infant daughter fell sick. “I have no money to take her to the doctor. I can’t even afford to get her formula or diapers. I have never been this helpless,” 26-year-old Anisa told Zan Times, during a visit to her house in May.
Anisa’s worsening financial situation is shared by others with disabilities in Afghanistan. Nafisa, who lives in Anisa’s neighbourhood, also has a physical disability in one leg. She used to receive a small stipend from the previous government that could help pay rent. The payment stopped last August. In a visit to her house in May 2022, she told Zan Times that she is failing to pay her rent and her landlord had threatened to evict her family. She wipes her tears as she describes how desperate she feels watching her children go hungry. “It has been a few nights that I can’t put a pot on the stove because we don’t have anything to eat,” she said. “Last night, I borrowed a bowl of wheat from my neighbour for my children,” she said pointing to a small bowl of wheat on her floor.
Even before the Taliban’s return to power, almost 80 percent of adults had some form of “physical, functional, sensory or other impairment,” including nearly 14 per cent who are disabled, according to a survey by the Asia Foundation, as well as further analysis by the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission.
Of the 4.5 million people who are disabled, war and roadside mines were the causes of nearly 42 per cent of their disabilities. They live in dire situations, usually with little access to education, work, or healthcare. Often, they are dependent on their families for survival. Now, with many families struggling to eat and many NGOs shuttered after the Taliban takeover, the plight of that already vulnerable population has gotten even more precarious, as they are often left to fend for themselves. And it’s women and girls who are at most risk as the Taliban restricts their rights to both work and education.
“When we have an emergency situation, we know that people with disabilities are the most vulnerable, particularly women who are left behind because they are less visible in their communities,” said a representative of an international NGO who spoke on condition of anonymity, fearful that talking to the media may hurt their working relationship with the Taliban.
We spoke with two international NGOs providing support for people with disabilities in Afghanistan, both of whom confirmed that the need for their services has rapidly increased since last August because they are able to reach people in conflict zones that they weren’t previously able to access and because people are reaching the NGOs for food as they fall into poverty, the representatives explained.
“The families themselves don’t have food to eat; it is hard to expect them to care for people with disabilities,” said one NGO manager, adding that the support they offer is not enough to meet the demand.
Despite the growing need for help, the Taliban closed some local services.
Fardia, 34, used to head an association for women and girls with disabilities in one of Afghanistan’s northern provinces. The single mother started it after being diagnosed with muscular dystrophy and being abandoned by her husband. “When I became disabled, the first strike came from my life partner and then society that humiliated and disrespected me because of my disability,” she recounts. “Society wanted me isolated at my home or as a beggar at the corner of the street.” Her association provided educational and work opportunities as well as food packages to its 200 members. But, she says, the Taliban seized her office. “You were getting money from foreigners to divorce women from their husbands,” says the disability rights activist, recounting the words of the Taliban official who threatened her on the phone.
Yet, Farida continues to provide phone consultation to some of the members, but she is desperate for not being able to help more. “Some nights I receive messages from women and girls with disabilities who say they haven’t eaten anything,” she said in a phone interview, adding that since aid packages have been stopped, they are being seen as a burden to the families who can’t make ends meet.
The stress on those caring for disabled loved ones is growing. Tahera is responsible for caring for her husband and their four blind children. She moved her family to Nili, the capital of Daikundi province in central Afghanistan, to be closer to organizations that were helping those with disabilities. Unable to work due to the demands of caring for her family, she was completely dependent on aid to feed and shelter everyone. After the Taliban took over, that help ended and Tayeba had no choice but to start begging for food.
Names have been changed to protect the identity of the interviewees.
