By Atia FarAzar*
This narrative has been told to Atia FarAzar of Zan Times:
Thirteen years ago, my husband joined a special unit of the Balkh provincial military forces. He was always dedicated to serving the people. He spent most of his time fulfilling his duties and rarely had free time to come home. We have three children. Even when our children were sick, I cared for them alone, and no one helped me as my husband was on the front lines.
When the Taliban took power, my husband was terrified of being killed. But we didn’t have the money for him to leave the country. When the general amnesty was announced, my husband was overjoyed and went from Samangan to Pul-i-Khumri city in Baghlan province, where he took a job as a guard at a warehouse. He was paid 6,000 afghani per month, and we managed our household expenses with that income. Every three months, he came home to see us. In December 2022, the Taliban detained him on his way home to prepare firewood and winter supplies.
Everyday, we waited for my husband to arrive. Then, one day, he called from prison and said that the Taliban had imprisoned him because he had been a member of special forces. They had tortured him, and he begged for my forgiveness, saying he was uncertain when he would be released.
We cried a lot. Every night, we prayed for his release. But we’ve had little news for the last ten months. I am left alone with my three young children and we are struggling to find food and sustenance. Our life is falling apart. My husband’s father has passed away. My husband’s three brothers cannot help us: one is disabled and unable to work; another has a disabled child and can barely support his own family; while the third was married just before my husband’s imprisonment and is burdened with debt. To raise funds, we’ve sold our garden, which contained apricot and almond trees, for a meagre price.
When my husband was in the special unit, he had a monthly salary of 20,000 afghani. When he was stationed in Mazar, we were able to live there and enjoy a comfortable life. Now, we don’t have enough food to eat every day. The money from selling the garden is exhausted and I’m relying on neighbours for help.
After Eid al-Adha, I was able to talk to my husband. He explained that he was in the prison infirmary. When I asked why, he replied, “I don’t know. They had cooked meat for us on Eid, but it was spoiled or poisoned. Several of us got sick. One person died, and the rest of us are in bad shape. I’m still in the infirmary.”
I can’t sleep since hearing this disturbing news. I cry during the night, worried about my husband and my life. NGOs have distributed aid in our area several times, but when we asked for help, they didn’t put our names on the list. The world has become very ruthless, and I don’t know in what condition my children, husband, and I will be in a few months.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the interviewees and writer. Aatia Faraazar is the pseudonym of a Zan Times journalist in Afghanistan.
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