Bikinis, burkas and bombs in the ‘worst country for women’
In 2007, reporter Heidi Kingstone arrived in Kabul, eager to explore one of the world’s most turbulent places. Reflecting on her four years in Afghanistan, she sees signs of positive change for its long-suffering people
THIS is one of my clearest memories of life in Kabul. The year was 2007, I had just arrived in the city and spring had come early. The sun shone and women swam in the cold water.
Women wearing bikinis lounged by the pool side with men, swam in the cold water and drank Martinis inside the large compound that welcomed foreigners but banned Afghans.
But just outside, past the secured perimeter, women enveloped in blue burkas gingerly navigated rocky and unpaved roads, bound by harsh, centuries-old traditions in terms of which even looking at a man could result in death.
The contrast could not have been starker. It’s just one example of the jarring realities of life inside the “Kabubble”.
In the four years I was in Afghanistan, I visited air bases and brothels, saw friends kidnapped and witnessed suicide bombings. I interviewed people in all the different corners of this mysterious place, from gunrunners to warlords, fashionistas to powerbrokers.
As a passionate advocate for women’s rights, I wanted to gain an understanding of how women lived and functioned here.
Back then, even president Hamid Karzai’s wife, Zeenat Karzai, a gynaecologist, was rarely seen outside the presidential palace.
But fast-forward to this September, when the new Afghan leader, Ashraf Ghani Ahmadzai, praised his wife, Rula Ghani, in public — as she sat prominently beside him.
The new first lady intends to be an advocate for women’s rights during her husband’s term. To many, it looks like the long-awaited new dawn.
Women’s rights in Afghanistan have long been contested ground.
In the ’20s, King Amanullah planned for the emancipation of women — something that was considered so radical that it ultimately led to his abdication. Educating girls formed part of the original Nato-led International Security Assistance Force mandate when forces entered the country in 2001.
And women’s rights were later enshrined in the new constitution — but they remain as fragile as the political situation. Insecurity in several provinces has already forced girls to abandon their education.
Just three weeks ago, the UK ended 13 years of combat operations in Afghanistan and the last troops left Camp Bastion.
In a conservative country, where many still oppose women having any role outside the home, progress is dependent on international financial aid.
This is already drying up. Women fear losing the small gains they have made (although it was urban middle-class women, rather than poorer families in rural areas, who benefited).
No wonder many are hoping that Rula Ghani’s entrance into the public sphere will lead to higher status for women.
But there is no magic wand. Afghanistan has the dubious distinction of being the worst country in which to be a woman. Domestic violence is endemic, and most women are illiterate.
In the past decade, gender development programmes have mushroomed. Women have been employed in NGOs, received scholarships, worked as cleaners, worked as administrators, taken part in small projects in the home, or in workshops — bringing in extra cash and small moments of independence.
But there is also a sense, sometimes, that our view of Afghan women is a bit like a modern-day version of the circus freak show.
In the northern part of the country, I once interviewed a very old woman who had one tooth and long grey plaits that poked out from her headscarf.
The fierce Afghan sun and a long, hard life had weathered her skin. She had been a beneficiary of a small project that improved the quality of the fruit and vegetables she grew in her garden and sold at market.
It was low-tech stuff — just some kit to keep insects from eating the produce. I remember her smile when she talked about the impact this had made on her life. But what I really remember are her words when she told me
Women’s rights were enshrined in the new constitution — but remain as fragile as the political situation
she had learnt that women could work outside the house and had value.
The narrative on Afghanistan is changing in theWest.
“There is a frantic scrabbling for some kind of legacy of success among the senior British military,” said Frank Ledwidge, author of Losing Small Wars — about military failure in Iraq and Afghanistan.
“They realise that their spinning and lying is going to catch up with them. The line now is ‘Helmand may be a mess, but at least the rest of the country has not descended into total chaos.’
“What kind of success is that? How was that worth 453 lives and £40-billion [about R690-billion]?”
The place I called home for a while is fast disappearing.
Against a backdrop that was war, the fabulous Kabubble offered a great network of fascinating people, crazy parties, bizarre occurrences and Afghan hospitality. It was a country at the crossroads of history. This was a unique moment in time; where restaurants, five-star hotels, bursts of artistic creativity and hope flourished side-by-side with death and a pervading sense of imminent doom.
That has already started to fade. Friends and colleagues have left, including myself, moving on. Others were murdered by the Taliban.
But I think we all treasured our time there. Afghanistan takes hold of the soul.
Journalists are programmed to be cynical, often for good reason. There was so much hope in the beginning but Afghanistan has proved a tough country to change, despite its many wonderful young and educated people who are working for a better future — especially for women.
Can Rula Ghani help? That remains to be seen. —