KABUL (Afghanistan) — Two women of different backgrounds — one rebel and the other bureaucrat — are facing an uncertain future in Afghanistan. One woman chose to work for the Taliban while the other is determined against them. Both swear they will never leave their homeland.
Karima Mayar, 54, is the head of a department within the Taliban-run Health Ministry. She is one of the few women who can retain leadership positions in the new government’s bureaucracy. She believes Afghans should be served regardless of who is at the helm.
Rishmin Juyunda (26 years old) couldn’t agree more. She claims that Afghan women won’t be served by the Taliban at power. This rights activist is part a network that fights against the Taliban’s harsh policies restricting women’s freedom.
These women represent a wide range of Afghan women who remained in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan following many fleeing, afraid of a return to the same brutal repression as the previous regime in the late 1990s. International community has tied recognition of a Taliban government with guarantees for women’s right.
It is unclear what rights women will be allowed to keep. The Taliban has made it impossible for women to work in many government ministries, and teen girls cannot go to school. In addition, the interim cabinet is entirely male. This increases distrust in the Taliban.
There are exceptions.
Amiri, a mother to six children, retained her position as director of the Quality and Safety Department of the Ministry’s Quality and Safety Department despite the fall of the U.S.-backed government. This is a rare case; other senior female bureaucrats are barred from working in government portfolios, except for health.
To manage her team of five, she is usually at work by 9 a.m. She meets almost every day with her Taliban-appointed superiors for review of action plans to stop the spread disease from dengue fever to coronavirus.
“It wasn’t difficult for me to decide to stay. I have my own department. I will give them a plan if they ask. She said that the Taliban leadership wanted me to work for them. “As long I’m healthy, I will work to support them, for my people and my country.
Juyunda is finishing her final semester at Zahra University, Tehran. After the August Taliban takeover, she decided to remain in Kabul and continue her studies remotely. She is distracted by her phone, which interrupts her concentration. Rights activists suggested slogans for the next demonstration in a series of WhatsApp messages.
Juyunda, like many young women who grew-up after the U.S. invasion of 2001, saw her dreams shattered when the Taliban seized Kabul and took control of the country. Many of her friends fled, not wanting to wait for the U.S. withdrawal.
She stayed. She said, “I will not leave Afghanistan.” She said with her bright hazel eyes, framed by a scarlet headcarf.
Large-scale evacuations forced the decision to stay.
Between Aug. 15’s fall of Kabul, and the U.S. withdrawal two weeks later, thousands of Afghans including many women rushed to the airport in desperate attempts to escape.
Amiri chose a different path.
Three days after Taliban took over the capital, she returned to the office to meet growing health care needs. The abrupt cessation of international aid, which had once supported hospitals and paid health workers, was a shock. International sanctions against the Taliban had caused an economic crisis that was affecting hospitals across the country.
To improve quality control, she requested that her Taliban superiors combine her department with another. It was approved by them.
Talib guard tried to inspect her bag at ministry gate on one morning. She refused and requested that a separate room for female checks be built. They agreed.
She graduated from Kabul Medical University in 1981 and has been working for the Health Ministry since 2004. During her tenure, five health ministers have passed through. She asked, “Why should the Taliban be any other?”
They only made it possible for women to wear Islamic clothing. Amiri, a religious Muslim, had been wearing a headscarf since childhood.
Amiri insists that “Health is not political.” Her office sends guidelines to thousands of hospitals, clinics, and other facilities in the country. She says, “Life goes on.”
Juyunda’s life will be different.
It took her several weeks to recover from shock after the takeover. Her 11-member family had greatly benefited from the U.S. invasion. She was able to go to school in Ghor with her four sisters. Both her parents were well-paid employees in government. She was on her path to becoming an economist, brimming full of ideas for improving her country.
She learned about a protest by women outside the Pakistan Embassy in Kabul, September through social media. Soon after her arrival, a Taliban unit arrived and the group was forced to disperse. She stood there, holding a sign that said “Education Is a Right” and repeated to her self, “I am strong, but they are weak.”
She saw protestors being beaten with cables and rifles. She thought this was war.
Soon numbers were being exchanged and a network of activists with similar goals was established.
They said that they are not against protests, but that activists should seek permission from them. The subsequent sit-ins were not able to draw large crowds. Juyunda stated that asking permission from Taliban would mean implicit acceptance of their rule.
She said, “We will not do that.”
Both women’s lives were shaped by Afghanistan’s turbulent past.
Amiri was a gynaecologist for the conservative Wardak province. This was where the Taliban had their stronghold since the 1990s, when they were first at power.
She said that she had to make her world smaller in order to survive.
“During that time I went to the hospital and treated patients, delivered babies, and then went home. She said that this was the best time of my life.
She used the same strategy in 2021. She leaves work at 3:30 p.m. and heads straight to Kabul to spend the evening there with her grandchildren and children.
Juyunda was a victim of the Taliban insurgency during her childhood. After bombings and rocket strikes, she saw whole buildings go up in flames.
She would drink water every night as she slept. She smiled at the memory of her childhood innocence and said, “I thought, If a bomb ever hits our home, it could be used to put out the fires.”
Although the bombs have been stopped, Juyunda continues to fight for women’s rights.
Amiri is optimistic, however. She said, “Let’s just see what happens.”
