Opinion

Three years ago Afghanistan fell to the Taliban and we had to flee the country we loved

It’s been a particularly dark time for Afghan media with more than 80 per cent of women journalists stopping work by the end of last year

A wall mural on a street in Kabul: "Afghan women will not be silent anymore." Photograph: Wakil Kohsar/AFP via Getty Images
A wall mural on a street in Kabul: "Afghan women will not be silent anymore." Photograph: Wakil Kohsar/AFP via Getty Images
Saeedullah Safi
Sat Aug 17 2024 - 06:11

I cried for two days straight when Afghanistan fell to the Taliban on August 15th, 2021. It was the second time in my life that I felt I had been through hell. The first was when I lost close friends in an explosion targeting reporters in Kabul in 2018 in which nine journalists were killed and I was among 20 who were injured. I survived that blast, but when Kabul fell, a part of me shattered in a way I never thought possible.

I remember calling my wife, Salma Niazi, desperately asking if she was safe. Her voice trembled as she responded, “Nothing is good. Everyone is getting out.” In that moment, I felt utterly hopeless, heartbroken, and done with life.

Salma and I were born and raised in Afghanistan. We never wanted to leave our homeland; we had dreams for the future, dreams rooted in the land and among the people we loved. We had never imagined we would become refugees.

I remember Afghanistan before the Taliban’s resurgence – a time when women could work, children could go to school, and life had a rhythm of freedom and possibility. I lived in Kunar and Salma lived in Laghman, both provinces in the east of the country. We were journalists: I was a reporter and Salma was a presenter for local media. We spent our days in cafes, enjoying Manto, an Afghan delicacy, with friends. I ran online English and journalism classes for young men and women, expanding educational opportunities in a country hungry for knowledge.

READ SOME MORE

But all that changed when the Taliban regained power. My heart broke as I watched everything we knew and loved fall apart. The urgency to leave was overwhelming. I was on the phone constantly, co-ordinating efforts to get my family to safety. When the attack happened at Kabul airport, I was gripped by the fear that I had sent my loved ones to their deaths. But half an hour later, I received the news that they were alive. I had never felt more grateful for anything in my life.

[ Three years on: ‘I am impatiently waiting for the Taliban to be destroyed, I want to return to my homeland’ ]

Three years have passed and the pain lingers. August is a month I wish I could escape from, a month filled with memories that haunt me. The Afghanistan I dreamed of belonging to no longer existed. At the end of 2021, after four months under Taliban rule, I fled to Pakistan. It was a harrowing journey; I spent eight days and nights at the Torkham border before crossing into Peshawar. Salma, however, was not with me – women faced severe restrictions on travel, especially young women.

Salma eventually joined me in Pakistan in February 2022, after enduring six months under Taliban rule. She describes that time as a “dark life”, where she couldn’t even leave the house, trapped in a perpetual state of fear and confinement.

Before the fall, Salma was the sole breadwinner in her family, working as a presenter and reporter for local radio in Laghman. When she arrived in Pakistan, she was determined not to abandon her friends and colleagues still suffering in Afghanistan. “I saw how those poor women cried behind closed doors,” she told me. “There was no reason for them to have hope.”

[ ‘Eight times we have changed the place and times of the school’: Afghan women defying the Taliban education ban ]

It was then that we decided to establish the Afghan Times, a voice for Afghan women. Despite living in a cramped hotel room, we had a computer and internet access, which was enough to get started. We designed a website and social media pages, and soon, Salma’s friends back in Afghanistan began contributing their stories. We used our personal savings to cover the costs of the website and social media maintenance. With the Afghan Times, we aimed to stay active, to connect with Afghanistan and to continue writing the truth.

Salma Niazi, editor of the Afghan Times, was managing the publication from her residence in Islamabad. Photograph: Saeedullah Safi
Salma Niazi, editor of the Afghan Times, was managing the publication from her residence in Islamabad. Photograph: Saeedullah Safi

These were dark days for Afghan media. By the end of 2023, more than 80 per cent of women journalists had stopped working. More than half of registered media outlets had closed and two-thirds of all journalists had left their jobs. The Taliban imposed severe limitations on press freedom, forbidding coverage of topics such as insecurity, human rights and corruption, and forcing journalists to report only on issues that portrayed them positively.

In mid-2023 the Pakistani government announced the deportation of undocumented Afghan refugees, starting November 1st, 2023. By April 2024 nearly 746,800 Afghans had been deported. In December 2023 local police in Pakistan warned us that we had to leave or face deportation to Afghanistan.

[ Breakdancer Manizha Talash fled Afghanistan when the Taliban came to power, now she’s an Olympian ]

Leaving Pakistan wasn’t a difficult decision but we didn’t know where else we could go. “Will we go back to the Taliban?” Salma asked, her voice filled with dread. We had recently received a rejection from the French embassy in Islamabad for our asylum visa request, and our future seemed bleak.

But then, in early January 2024, we received a lifeline – a positive response from the Irish Government. On January 11th we arrived at Dublin Airport. For the first time since August 2021, we felt a sense of safety and relief. We spent those first few days in our new home, beside the sea in a beautiful part of Ireland, simply sleeping, finally free from the constant fear that had plagued us for years.

I have since started young journalists training at Dublin Inquirer and then an internship at The Irish Times, while Salma continues to run the Afghan Times in exile from Dublin. But every day, we think of Afghanistan. I can’t wait for the day when I can return to Afghanistan and report on what’s happening there, especially to women.

But as we look ahead, our story has taken a hopeful turn. During all the darkness and uncertainty, Salma and I are expecting our first child in October. This baby represents not only the continuation of our journey but also the hope that one day, we might return to a free Afghanistan and raise our child in a country that honours truth and freedom.

Afghan child clothing laid out as Saeed and Salma celebrate their upcoming baby. Photograph: Salma Niazi.
Afghan child clothing laid out as Saeed and Salma celebrate their upcoming baby. Photograph: Salma Niazi.

The past three years have been a whirlwind. The heroic journalists at the Afghan Times have bravely reported on critical issues despite the Taliban’s restrictions. We’ve highlighted the struggles Afghan women face amid the Taliban’s oppressive rule, including their exclusion from the workforce, the rising child labour crisis, and the increase in poverty. Our reporters, working in secret, have interviewed thousands of women and documented their stories through photos and videos. As one of our brave woman reporters back in Afghanistan put it: “This is a fight for truth.”

Reporters from the Afghan Times put their lives at risk and continue telling stories with just two cameras, which they call their “weapons in the fight for truth”. They remain defiant, determined to ensure that no one can stop us from telling the real story of Afghanistan. And neither will we.