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One Year after the Herat Earthquake; Victims Complain About Neglect and Their Problems

A year after the deadly and continuous earthquakes in Herat province, western Afghanistan, many families and individuals who lost family members and property, as well as their homes being destroyed, are criticizing the lack of support from international organizations and the interim government of Afghanistan. The earthquake victims state that they still do not have access to basic living necessities and are suffering greatly from their current conditions. They cite the lack of adequate shelter, insufficient healthcare facilities, absence of educational centers, and limited access to drinking water as their main challenges, calling for assistance from international organizations, national traders, and the government. Zalmai Farooqi, a resident of Nayeb Rafi village in the Zenda Jan district of Herat, is 35 years old and had four children. He lost two daughters in the earthquake, aged between 10 and 15 years. The village where Zalmai lived was nearly flattened by the continuous earthquakes. With a heavy voice and choked throat, Zalmai told the media that he is still in shock and has not been able to forget the immense suffering that the earthquake has imposed on them. He says, "I see my daughters almost every night in my dreams, and this has become a painful nightmare for me." He stated that he lost his home and all his belongings in the earthquake. Criticizing the organizations and government, he mentioned that many promises were made to them after the earthquake, but few have been fulfilled. As a result, even after a year, they continue to struggle with numerous problems. He also harshly criticized the houses that were constructed for him, emphasizing: "The houses they built for us are just shelters. There are no walls around them, no water, and no electricity. They don’t even have a toilet. Winter is approaching, and we cannot afford to build walls around our homes. Additionally, the prices of construction materials have skyrocketed." Government and Organizations' Promotional Perspective on the Victims Shah Mahmood, another victim of the devastating Herat earthquake, shared his struggles with the media outlet Goharshad, stating, and “We walk half an hour on foot we are facing many challenges. However, the government and international organizations are completely indifferent to our problems. They are only focused on publicity and baseless activities, neglecting the essential needs of the people." Shah Mahmood expressed that they are still confronted with numerous issues. He mentioned that the houses built for them by the government and some traders lack surrounding walls, creating significant problems for families both during the day and especially at night. He noted that for several months, the people of this village have received no assistance from the interim government or aid organizations, and they are facing severe food and health challenges. Shah Mahmood criticized the aid organizations for "turning their backs" on earthquake victims in Herat, showing no concern for their basic needs. This comes in the wake of a powerful earthquake measuring 6.3 on the Richter scale that struck the Zenda Jan district of Herat on October 7 last year. In the following days, similar earthquakes once again shook Zenda Jan and other districts in Herat, leaving widespread destruction and casualties in their wake. According to international organizations, approximately 1,500 people lost their lives in these earthquakes, over 2,600 were injured, and thousands of homes were destroyed. The occurrence of these earthquakes has left thousands homeless and displaced. After these earthquakes, the United Nations, aid organizations, and the current government repeatedly announced plans to assist victims and construct shelters for them; however, it seems that these efforts have not been able to meet their extensive needs. 96,000 Vulnerable Children Affected by the Earthquake UNICEF, the United Nations Children's Fund, recently released a report stating that one year after the earthquake in Herat, 96,000 earthquake-affected children in the province remain at risk and require further support. The report highlighted that most victims of this disaster were children and women, emphasizing the need for increased assistance for children. UNICEF stressed that the situation of earthquake victims in western Afghanistan is dire. The report continued to state that in the year following the disaster, UNICEF prioritized rebuilding damaged water supply systems, restoring classrooms, and ensuring uninterrupted health and nutrition services for children and women. The report indicated that over one million people have accessed healthcare through medical teams supported by UNICEF, including 400,000 children under five years old. UNICEF restored access to clean drinking water for 21,600 individuals and installed sanitation facilities for 25,000 people. The report concluded: "Children cannot thrive without reliable essential services, especially climate-resilient water systems. In areas like Herat, which have been severely affected by drought and are still recovering from earthquakes, we must ensure that communities have access to safe drinking water."

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The Dark Anniversary; A Tale of the Real Nightmare of Afghan Girls

Dark clouds have enveloped everything. It feels as if bullets and missiles are raining from the sky. My ears can no longer distinguish any other sound amidst the cacophony. Everyone is fleeing, but the destination is unclear. Some have rushed towards the metal birds (planes); the streams of water are now filled with blood. My eyes see not cars, but corpses, as if zombies have overtaken the world. I open my eyes and once again, it’s a nightmare! My forehead is drenched in sweat. My body is trembling. I don’t know when these nightmares will cease. For three years, they have stolen sleep from my eyes. This dream is pure reality that has slowly turned into a nightmare—untimely nightmares that escort me to the brink of death every night. For a long time now, these nightmares have become my nightly companions. During the day, I am silent, and at night, I am bound by this true nightmare. Hearing the sounds of phantom cries, which I find difficult to distinguish between sleep and wakefulness, I get out of bed. I wipe my sweaty forehead and follow the frequency of the crying outside; yes! I had guessed correctly—it was my sister’s voice. My unfortunate sister, trembling from the force of her sobs. Harsh and unsettling thoughts raced through my mind as I hurried to her. With a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of a well, filled with fear and anxiety, I asked her what had happened. With eyes sadder than ever, amidst her sobs, she said she had submitted a blank exam paper. And I, unable to even ask her why, because I know the reason for her actions. My unfortunate sister does not want to graduate from sixth grade so soon. She still wants to go to school, to learn, and she hasn’t yet let go of her love for school. The fear of never going back to school and not seeing her classmates again has consumed her like a parasite. I completely understand how this pain gnaws at her being. As I saw her, I momentarily returned to the past, to the days when I was sitting in a university classroom. I still remember that fateful day, the day when one of our professors entered the class along with our principal. I can still recall their sorrowful and mournful gaze. They wouldn’t lift their heads from the ground, as if they had committed a crime as grave as murder. Our principal avoided making eye contact with us, as if he feared what might happen if our eyes met. It was clear he had been crying, but he seemed unwilling to reveal the lingering lump in his throat. In a voice we had never heard before, he told us, “Due to an order we have received, you can no longer attend university and…” I never heard the rest of his words that day. As far as I remember, I felt as if someone had wrapped their hands around my throat and was trying to cut it with a dull knife. In that moment, even my breaths were not helping me; all I could hear was the sound of my classmates crying. Their wails still echo in my ears like the tolling of a death bell that has long been ringing. That day, I brought my half-dead body home. With my sister's voice, I return from the past to a present that bears no resemblance to life. My sister calls my name and asks how I am. With pain and tears still tracing her cheeks, she asks if I remember today. I tell her, “How can a person forget the day their soul died?” Today marks three years since the fall of Afghanistan. Today is exactly the day when misfortune was inscribed upon our fate. It’s the day we stopped wishing and started praying for death. It has been three years since my notebooks gathered dust, my pens wrote not a single word, and the lessons I struggled for months to learn have faded from memory. In these three years, I have lost everything I had; sometimes I think we all became ill overnight. Our spirits and minds are no longer healthy. I wish there were a psychologist to whom we could express the pains and lumps in our throats—the words that are slowly consuming our souls and bending our backs. I no longer feel alive; in these three years, I have died and come back to life a thousand times. If I were to forgive the whole world, I would never forgive those who caused me to be deprived of education, who made me feel worthless, separated me from society, and deprived me of my human rights. They have taken away rights that are mine and inflicted pains upon me during this time that can never be compensated. Author: MahNoor Roshan

The Dark Anniversary; A Tale of the Real Nightmare of Afghan Girls

Dark clouds have enveloped everything. It feels as if bullets and missiles are raining from the sky. My ears can no longer distinguish any other sound amidst the cacophony. Everyone is fleeing, but the destination is unclear. Some have rushed towards the metal birds (planes); the streams of water are now filled with blood. My eyes see not cars, but corpses, as if zombies have overtaken the world. I open my eyes and once again, it’s a nightmare! My forehead is drenched in sweat. My body is trembling. I don’t know when these nightmares will cease. For three years, they have stolen sleep from my eyes. This dream is pure reality that has slowly turned into a nightmare—untimely nightmares that escort me to the brink of death every night. For a long time now, these nightmares have become my nightly companions. During the day, I am silent, and at night, I am bound by this true nightmare. Hearing the sounds of phantom cries, which I find difficult to distinguish between sleep and wakefulness, I get out of bed. I wipe my sweaty forehead and follow the frequency of the crying outside; yes! I had guessed correctly—it was my sister’s voice. My unfortunate sister, trembling from the force of her sobs. Harsh and unsettling thoughts raced through my mind as I hurried to her. With a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of a well, filled with fear and anxiety, I asked her what had happened. With eyes sadder than ever, amidst her sobs, she said she had submitted a blank exam paper. And I, unable to even ask her why, because I know the reason for her actions. My unfortunate sister does not want to graduate from sixth grade so soon. She still wants to go to school, to learn, and she hasn’t yet let go of her love for school. The fear of never going back to school and not seeing her classmates again has consumed her like a parasite. I completely understand how this pain gnaws at her being. As I saw her, I momentarily returned to the past, to the days when I was sitting in a university classroom. I still remember that fateful day, the day when one of our professors entered the class along with our principal. I can still recall their sorrowful and mournful gaze. They wouldn’t lift their heads from the ground, as if they had committed a crime as grave as murder. Our principal avoided making eye contact with us, as if he feared what might happen if our eyes met. It was clear he had been crying, but he seemed unwilling to reveal the lingering lump in his throat. In a voice we had never heard before, he told us, “Due to an order we have received, you can no longer attend university and…” I never heard the rest of his words that day. As far as I remember, I felt as if someone had wrapped their hands around my throat and was trying to cut it with a dull knife. In that moment, even my breaths were not helping me; all I could hear was the sound of my classmates crying. Their wails still echo in my ears like the tolling of a death bell that has long been ringing. That day, I brought my half-dead body home. With my sister's voice, I return from the past to a present that bears no resemblance to life. My sister calls my name and asks how I am. With pain and tears still tracing her cheeks, she asks if I remember today. I tell her, “How can a person forget the day their soul died?” Today marks three years since the fall of Afghanistan. Today is exactly the day when misfortune was inscribed upon our fate. It’s the day we stopped wishing and started praying for death. It has been three years since my notebooks gathered dust, my pens wrote not a single word, and the lessons I struggled for months to learn have faded from memory. In these three years, I have lost everything I had; sometimes I think we all became ill overnight. Our spirits and minds are no longer healthy. I wish there were a psychologist to whom we could express the pains and lumps in our throats—the words that are slowly consuming our souls and bending our backs. I no longer feel alive; in these three years, I have died and come back to life a thousand times. If I were to forgive the whole world, I would never forgive those who caused me to be deprived of education, who made me feel worthless, separated me from society, and deprived me of my human rights. They have taken away rights that are mine and inflicted pains upon me during this time that can never be compensated. Author: MahNoor Roshan

5 months ago
A Life Story; Nagara Shahin from Afghanistan to the 2024 Paris Olympics

The story begins with a 30-minute karate class on the balcony of her home in Peshawar, Pakistan. At that time, Nagara Shahin was an 11-year-old Olympic refugee, having spent most of her short life in exile and migration. Nagara fled Afghanistan with her parents in 1993 when she was just a baby. Her mother carried her for two days and nights while crossing mountains and passes. To pursue her beloved sport, Nagara faced numerous obstacles, from her first and last karate class to competing in judo at the Olympics as a member of the Olympic Refugee Team. Since 2022, this 31-year-old athlete has been living and training in Toronto, Canada. Nagara Shahin completed her education in Pakistan, where she endured harassment from men and bullying from her peers on her way to school. In an article published in *Life Toronto*, she recalls: “One day, an older man harassed my sister and me. He shouted at me and pushed me to the ground. I wanted to hit him with my fist, but I didn’t know how to do it.” Her mother told her she needed to learn to defend herself. The school she attended did not offer martial arts training, either in the regular curriculum or extracurricular activities. Through distant relatives, Nagara learned about a karate instructor nearby. Although the male instructor couldn't teach at the school, he could come to her home. Soon enough, Nagara began practicing on her aunt's balcony. She says, “My mother said this space could be provided by family, and you should use it as much as you can.” Before long, Nagara Shahin participated in local karate competitions. Her coach recognized her enthusiasm and skill and encouraged her to compete in judo. “My first coach told me, ‘You won’t learn to get up until you fall.’ This advice motivated me greatly during my childhood.” She also fondly remembers watching professional wrestling matches in America with her father, who was a wrestling enthusiast. Judo gave Nagara Shahin the confidence to find herself and enjoy life despite all the suffering and hardships of displacement and seeking asylum. According to a BBC news report, her coaches gradually began to recognize her skills. She reached a point where she trained with the national judo team of Pakistan but was unable to compete with them due to not having a Pakistani passport. In 2014, Nagara Shahin returned to Afghanistan and studied political science and public administration at the American University of Kabul. She also trained with the Afghan national team, and her male teammates welcomed her presence. As noted in *Life Toronto*, “During training, we were like a family, and they treated me like their sister.” She continued to train and compete, gaining significant attention as a female athlete in Afghanistan, which was somewhat unintentional. She told the BBC, “I faced immense cyber violence. This violence later turned into real harassment.” She recounted, “Several times, cars followed us. Once, a soda can was thrown at my mother, and I skillfully managed to save her.” In her first competition at the Tokyo Olympics, Nagara suffered a shoulder injury. In 2018, she left her homeland. She said, “I always say I became a refugee for the second time.” She went to Russia to continue her studies in entrepreneurship and international business. Unlike the warm welcome she received during training in Afghanistan, she couldn’t find a suitable group to train with in Russia. She spent a year training alone, which she describes as the bitterest period of her athletic career. In 2019, she met with a member of the International Judo Federation who suggested she join the Olympic Refugee Team. She qualified to participate in the 2020 Tokyo Olympics but was eliminated in her first match due to her shoulder injury. Until she completed her studies in Russia, the situation in Afghanistan had deteriorated significantly. Nagara said, "I was trapped." She returned to Pakistan but often stayed at home out of fear for her life. She faced severe attacks and criticism for not adhering to hijab regulations during competitions, which made her think more about her next steps. During this time, with the help of the Olympic Refuge Foundation and the UN Refugee Agency, she was given the opportunity to live and study in Canada. Nagara Shahin was accepted to continue her education in International Development in Toronto. She arrived in Canada in September 2022—a bittersweet moment for an athlete who has sought stability and peace across three different countries. It was in this Canadian city that her athletic life in judo was revitalized. In Paris, she is one of 37 athletes on the refugee team—a team that Nagara Shahin is proud to be a part of. Today (Saturday, August 20), she is set to step onto the mat once again and will compete for the first time in a mixed event representing the refugee team. Before the competitions, she told the International Judo Federation, "Team competitions are more exciting because I always look at my teammates, and I can't let them lose; that's why I fight for all of them." After the games, Nagara Shahin plans to declare Canada her home. She has now received permanent residency in Canada and hopes to one day be a supporter and helper for refugees like herself. Her mother and father are still in Pakistan and are happy that she has been able to realize her dream of participating in the Olympics. She says she relied on her family's support during the toughest times. "My sister always told me, 'I believe you will eventually reach your goal, and all these hard days will become memories that you can laugh about.'" "And now is the time when I can laugh about everything I've been through."

5 months ago
Analysis and discussion

End of Hopes; Complete Exclusion of Afghan Girls from Education

Author: Mahdi Mozaffari In their latest restrictive measure against women, the caretaker government has banned the education of girls in medical institutes across Afghanistan "until further notice." According to reports from Afghan news agencies, officials from medical institutes in Kabul and other provinces have confirmed that the Ministry of Public Health issued this directive to all these centers last week. Available information indicates that this ban was directly ordered by Hibatullah Akhundzada, the leader of the government based in Kandahar, and the Ministry of Public Health has been tasked with its implementation. One official from a medical institute in Kabul emphasized in conversations with some journalists that this directive was issued under the direct supervision of the government leader and applies to all private and public medical training centers. In this context, an audio message attributed to a government official has been circulated, addressing the heads of medical institutes, stating that the education of female students is prohibited until further notice. This message also warns that government intelligence forces will closely monitor medical institutes, and if they observe the presence of girls in these centers, they will shut them down. This message, which has rapidly circulated on social media, has raised serious concerns. Several female students in Kabul have also confirmed this ban, stating that they have been instructed to refrain from attending their classes. This action by the current rulers is a continuation of the extensive restrictions they have imposed on women and girls in Afghanistan, causing deep concern among the local community and international human rights organizations. Many observers believe that this decision directly limits educational and employment opportunities for women and will have irreparable negative consequences for the country's health system. Complete Exclusion of Women and Girls from the Education Cycle in Afghanistan The current government has taken the final step toward the complete exclusion of women and girls from the education cycle in Afghanistan by banning the education of girls in medical institutes. Previously, public and private medical institutes served as the only remaining educational opportunity for Afghan girls, allowing women to continue their two-year studies in these centers. Many girls utilized this pathway to improve their professional and living conditions. Now, with the implementation of this ban, the rulers have eliminated the last hopes for women's education, completely depriving them of access to learning. This prohibition is part of the systematic policies of the government aimed at removing women from the fields of education and employment in Afghanistan. After seizing power, this group initially prohibited all girls above the sixth grade from attending school. This restriction has been in place for over three years, leaving approximately one and a half million adolescent girls deprived of their right to education in schools. Subsequently, the caretaker government made another decision to ban women's education in public and private universities, preventing thousands of female students, including final-year students, from continuing their studies. These actions, carried out with a gradual yet targeted strategy, have ultimately led to the complete removal of women and girls from the country's educational system. The government's policies not only isolate women and girls from education but also deprive Afghan society of the active participation of half its population in educational, health, and social affairs. This regressive approach, often justified with phrases like "until further notice," has practically fueled a cycle of inequality, poverty, and dependency for Afghan women and has drawn widespread criticism from the international community and human rights organizations. The Last Glimmer of Hope Has Also Been Closed Several female students in Kabul studying at private medical institutes have expressed "deep despair" and "serious concern" over the ban on education in these centers. In conversations with local journalists, these students stated that education at these institutes was their last hope for achieving a bright future. With this avenue now closed, they see all their educational opportunities as lost and face an uncertain and bleak future. This ban represents another blow to the hopes of girls who have struggled for years to attain academic and professional standing. One student mentioned that her family had been covering her tuition at a private medical institute despite numerous economic hardships. She was only one semester away from graduation, and according to her, all her efforts to gain expertise in a field she was passionate about have now gone to waste. Another student, who previously studied economics at Kabul University, explained that after the ban on female students at universities, she was forced to drop out and spent two years at home. She suffered from depression and psychological pressure due to being deprived of education but eventually decided to enroll in a private medical institute to pursue a two-year program. She said she had only completed one semester when the current rulers once again halted her education. Many other students share similar feelings of despair and lack of motivation. They believe that all their efforts have been in vain and that they have lost their futures. These students say that each time they hoped for a fresh start and sought alternative paths, the government blocked all remaining avenues with new decisions. These actions have not only had severe psychological and social impacts on these girls but have also deprived Afghan society of their academic and professional capacities. While the international community condemns these actions, the lives of Afghan girls continue to be destroyed under the shadow of restrictions and repression. Consequences and Impacts of Excluding Women from the Education Cycle Psychological and Social Impacts The complete prohibition of Afghan girls from education has left profound and widespread psychological consequences on this segment of society. Many girls who sought their dreams in academic and professional fields are now grappling with feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, and depression. This systematic deprivation has isolated them from society and fostered a sense of identity crisis among Afghan girls. Furthermore, this decision has had extensive negative impacts on families, as many parents who have strived for their children's education have now lost hope for their future. This situation can lead to an increase in family problems, including psychological and economic tensions, and severely undermine social cohesion. Economic and Professional Impacts The prohibition of girls' education will also have destructive effects on the economic development and workforce of Afghanistan. By excluding half of the population from the education cycle, Afghanistan will face a severe shortage of skilled workers in key areas such as healthcare, education, and management in the future. This situation not only eliminates economic opportunities for women but also deprives the country of their effective and constructive participation. Particularly in the healthcare sector, women play a vital role as nurses, caregivers, and doctors; their exclusion from education could paralyze the country's health system. This shortage of skilled professionals will increase Afghanistan's dependency on foreign aid and hinder sustainable economic growth. Cultural Impacts and Future Generations The deprivation of girls from education will have a detrimental effect on Afghanistan's cultural future. Education is a key factor in nurturing informed and empowered generations, and by eliminating this opportunity, the risk of perpetuating cycles of poverty, ignorance, and extremism increases. In the absence of educated girls, traditional and restrictive roles for women become further entrenched, leaving society deprived of the benefits of women's capabilities in decision-making and leadership roles. Additionally, children who grow up in families where their mothers have been denied education will have less chance of experiencing a suitable educational and cultural environment. This prohibition, in the long term, will inflict irreparable damage on Afghanistan's cultural, social, and scientific advancement, placing the country on a path of regression.