‘No chance for me’
Those left behind facing a dark reality
As the US military moves from evacuating civilians at Kabul’s airport to shifting out government personnel inside the facility ahead of Tuesday’s withdrawal deadline, those still stuck in Afghanistan are grappling with a new reality: The window to flee from the Taliban has shut.
For many women, especially those who reside far from the capital, attempting to even get to the airport would have been a terrifying journey.
Moreover, many did not have the resources and protection to embark on the trip, despite having the most to lose under the new hard-line government.
“Since Afghanistan fell, I have not been able to leave my home,” Saira Saleem (right), 24, said from the dark basement of her family’s home in Jalalabad, capital of the eastern Nangarhar province. “I’m still trying to leave.”
Saleem is a women’sand disability-rights activist and journalist with the local Seema News Agency. She lost mobility when she was 6 months old after contracting polio, making her especially easy for Taliban forces to detect.
“I’ve been working with women and girls in the community and was a journalist before the Taliban came,” she said, noting that she was attacked late last year when fellow Jalalabad reporter Malala Maiwand was shot dead.
“After I recovered, I was warned by the Taliban. And at this time, I am also being searched [for] by the Taliban because I have always spoken out against their oppression.”
Saleem says six Taliban members came to her home four nights ago, knocking roughly on the door. As she hid under her bed, the fighters questioned her father on her whereabouts. He told them that his daughter was not home.
“I am scared, and even if I get out of the house, the Taliban will recognize me,” she said.
Indeed, Saleem, who is her family’s breadwinner, knows she is now left to her own devices. But too afraid to flee east to Pakistan, she is holding out for a last-minute miracle.
“How can I find some way to leave here? I have so many problems,” she said softly. “If you know a reliable source or have a friend who can guide me, I would be grateful.”
Sahil, a journalist who previously hosted political programs on TV, said desperately on Sunday that he cannot trust the Taliban’s declarations of amnesty for all.
“Our reporter’s language is closed,” he tearfully said, referring to losing his voice as a journalist. “Is there a way to get documents? Many journalists who fled had fake documents to go to the US or Qatar. Please, I need to get out.”
And Hashmat, who has a US Special Immigrant Visa after years of working as a political media personality and in logistics with a private contracting company aligned with the US Embassy, told me that for days he has been in a holding house awaiting a call that hasn’t come.
“I don’t know what to do now. I am so scared. There is no chance for me,” he whispered in halting English. “We are left here to die, now with ISIS, too.”
Zak, 30, a former Afghan government employee, lamented: “It is getting worse now. My cousin went outside his house in jeans and got beaten badly.” On Saturday night, Zak packed his bags and mustered the courage to make one final effort to reach the airport perimeter, but his terrified mother broke down at the prospect of being left alone.
“I packed and was leaving, but my mom did not let me,” Zak stammered. “She was fearing the security threats and crying because of the explosions, and I could not leave her.”
In the past two days, I have received countless calls, messages, e-mails and voicemails from the very down and desperate, sending résumés and documents and certificates of their work with the United States.
Many said they did not have a strong cell signal or Internet connection to send the extra layers of paperwork that have been suddenly requested by the government, or to hustle for their names to be put on lists.
“The evacuation is a failure,” an Afghan interpreter wrote to me on Sunday. “The US is leaving its good friends behind.”
The next step for those broken and abandoned is to try to configure smuggling routes and illegally enter a neighboring country — starting at a cost of $12,500 per person — which comes with its own risks and a high price that the most vulnerable cannot even begin to fathom.
And still, that cost is only expected to rise in the coming days.