September 5, 2002 Drought and earthquake damage, additional problems in a land suffering from adverse poverty Always, it's the people who suffer. The latest from Afghanistan Agricultural Communities Hit by the Drought In the last twenty some years, Afghanistan has been invaded by the former USSR, been ripped apart by warring factions, and controlled by the Taliban. Afghanistan has repeatedly been the victim of conflict and destruction. Few of its citizens have remained untouched by this conflict and there is a new problem of poverty. A constant stream of difficulties has suppressed the Afghan people. So how are the people of Afghanistan doing at the moment? Saripul is 200 kilos southwest of the central city of northern Afghanistan, Mazar-e-Sharif. I visited a refugee camp here at the end of February. The sprawling earth-colored plain is filled with an extraordinary number of white vinyl tents. The Japanese NGO body, Peace Winds Japan (PWJ), has distributed over 5,600 tents since last October. In the last few years, Afghanistan has experienced reduced rainfall, causing a serious drought in various areas. The people of the northern province, which is mainly responsible for the production of wheat, sesame, cotton and corn, have been particularly hard hit and upon hearing that aid is available around Saripul, many have gathered here. It is said that about 80 percent of the 30,000 refugees in the camp are farmers who have abandoned their villages and fields of their own accord. "We want the Japanese to rescue the Afghans," says the 30-year-old farmer, Kaharmad. Their standard of life is so poor that they seem to have lost faith in the Afghanistan government and there are no signs that they have the will or pride in their own country to rebuild it themselves. A 45-year-old housewife, Banakahar, complains, "We have nowhere to live, no clothes, no food, no money _ we have nothing. I don't know how we're going to survive in the future." Up until now, she and her 70-year-old husband and 30-year-old son had been farmers. They too moved here last March, because of the drought. I am shown to their tent and taking a look around find that it is about the size of a 6-tatami mat room with no furniture. All they have are a few mattresses and blankets piled in the corner and some kitchen utensils. The late February nights are bitterly cold, with temperatures sinking to about 5 degrees centigrade. Rain could seep into the tent and they would lose sleep scooping the water out. "It's impossible to live in a tent. We want to return to the village as soon as possible and go back to our agricultural way of life." Also, there is no chance for employment in the refugee camps. Most of the men are left with nothing to do but twiddle their thumbs. Banakaharu's son, however, travels to the town of Saripul everyday seeking daily employment and earns a pittance for carrying water. In spite of this, the family doesn't have a sufficient amount of money on which to survive and it is the provisions of flour, etc., that the World Food Program (WFP) provides that sustains them. To people who have lost their jobs, foreign aid is their one source of hope. In fact all eyes are on me as I walk around the camp. As I visit the tents and occasionally ask about their daily lives, a large crowd begins to gather. I am constantly surrounded by a group of over 10 people. I am bombarded with requests - everyone wants to tell their own story and have their photograph taken. "There is such poverty, can't you help us more?" We hear the truth from the people living on the edge. However, the camp is rife with other problems. People from the inner city of Saripul, who have no need of aid, also flock to this refugee camp periodically in search of goods distributed by the United Nations and the NGOs, disguised as refugees. "If supplies are not given to the inhabitants of the town, the refugees should relocate to another region," argue the clearly cross officials of the Saripul region, who have offered ground to the refugee camp. It is estimated that after the collapse of the Taliban regime, the unemployment rate in Afghanistan has risen to 85 percent. Even for those who are somehow making a livelihood, it's not easy. The sympathy of the townspeople for the farmers who have journeyed for hours on their donkeys from their drought stricken villages has grown surprisingly thin. This was when the confused country was presided over by the provisional government of Chairman Karzai (the current President). Everybody was frantically clawing for survival. The Forgotten Disaster Area Nahrin The rays of the hot mid-summer sun beat down. As I approach the old town, I become aware of the countless piles of rubble. What had once been a town is now reduced to a sprawling landscape of decay. I was unable to envisage what kind of town it had been. Next to the crumbled remains of houses are the tents that have been distributed by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). Here families live as best they can. At 7:30 pm on March 25th, a massive earthquake, 6.2 in magnitude, hit northern Afghanistan. Worst hit was the area surrounding Nahrin, 160 kilometers east of the central northern city of Mazar-i-Sharif in southeast Baghlan Province. About 80,000 people inhabit 40 villages in a radius of 12 to 15 kilometers. "I had just finished dinner with my family and we were drinking tea when the tremors began. The tremors above ground were long, and I too was buried under a pile of rubble. It took all my strength to fight to the surface afterwards," says Saidia Sin (29) who lives in the center of Nahrin. The blow he received in the earthquake hurts even now. However, as a man, he is a vital member of the family. In spite of the blinding heat in mid-June, he was repairing the walls of the family home. The mud walls often seen in Afghanistan are cheap and easy for people to build with no knowledge of architecture. However, it is obvious to anyone that these structures are flimsy. I ask Saidia Sin if there is any chance of improvement in areas where the disaster occurred, but he is resigned. "We're poor. All we can do is to build mud walls on a brick foundation." I am shown the broken down house in which lived a total of 10 people, the three brothers and their families. The only room barely functional is the kitchen. Although only the one wall and the floor are left standing, the damage is comparatively slim. The women stand under the bright blue ceiling of the sky every day. The other rooms have been damaged and are too dangerous to enter. "If we could get hold of some brick, we could rebuild a 5 x 4 meter room in five days. However, it costs six dollars for 1,000 bricks. We are poor and the brick is unattainable. We're aiming to buy the brick gradually when we have the money and rebuild our home," Saidia Sin told us. Walking through other districts, it is hard to believe that three months have elapsed since the earthquake. No matter where you go in the town center, the landscape is the same as it was at the time of the earthquake. Afghanistan's provisional government has ceased to send aid. A 50-year-old man living in the Poshkara district of the town, Abdula Sator, stops working on rebuilding the walls of his house to talk to me. "We can't wait for aid. Unless we rebuild our houses in the next five to six months before winter arrives, we will not survive the bitter cold." Maltreatment Under the Taliban Regime The suburbs of the Afghanistan capital, Kabul. The bearded, tall and lanky, wide-eyed Harum, who is 20 years old, appears to be a regular guy. However, he is a gay prostitute who earns his living by searching for clients daily. His father died when he was small and he entered the profession in his junior school years to support his family. Today he still supports the livelihood of his nine-member household of his mother and sisters and their families. Two years ago, under Taliban rule, he was stopped in the street by a Taliban soldier, because he wasn't growing a beard, and confined to a detention center. That same night a Taliban soldier entered his cell and sexually assaulted him. "The Taliban soldier was armed. I was very frightened." From then on, every night, several Taliban soldiers would visit his cell. At first, he was forced to dance to music and then he was assaulted. There were rumors that many among the Kandahar men had homosexual preferences. Harum confirms these rumors, saying, "At the time, many Taliban soldiers took the homosexuals they encountered in Kabul to Kandahar." When it looked as if he was about to be forced into a marriage contract with a Taliban solider, Harum escaped a week later from the detention center into Pakistan as a refugee. When the Taliban regime fell last December, he was at last able to return to Kabul. "I was subjected to many unpleasant experiences at the time of the Taliban. I was forced to do what the soldiers said without pay. But now I'm able to making a living as a whore and my lifestyle is better." Ongoing Pattern of Unrest and Destruction In mid-June, the temperature in the capital of Kabul rises to a high of 35 degrees centigrade. As I walk the main streets, women and children reach out their thin arms towards me. Housewife Sharifa, who is 35 years old, is too tired to walk with her swollen stomach. She sits down in front of a shop. Although she has reached the ninth month of her pregnancy, her cheeks are hollow and her clothes filthy. I speak to her and she too begs. Her 71-year-old husband's business has failed and as well as letting go of their shop, they also became embroiled in the factional fight for superiority eight years ago and their home in Kabul was blown to pieces. They have lost everything. Over the last twenty some years, Afghanistan has been invaded by the former Soviet Union, fallen foul to warring factions and dominated by the Taliban _ a repetitious pattern of conflict and destruction. During this time, the social infrastructure was destroyed and the economic development was stalled. The difficulties they face are numerous. A year has passed since the October 8th air raid on Afghanistan. In spite of the harsh reality, the people of Afghanistan are moving forwards in a positive manner. I feel that it is important that the world not forget them and that it is necessary for us look out for them in various ways. (Published in USHIO, October 2002 issue)