‘I am on Taliban death list. It is only a matter of time’
A FORMER Afghan air force captain last night told how his life is “slipping away” after having spent six months in hiding following the Taliban takeover.
In October, the Sunday Express revealed how Shirshah Tatar, the son of a general, was living in fear with his wife and their baby daughter following the withdrawal of Western forces from Afghanistan.
Unable to venture outside for risk of being spotted by Taliban militia armed with death lists, his small apartment in Kabul, once home for his fledgling family, has become his prison.
Shirshah’s active lifestyle, so full of hope and ambition, has now been replaced by inertia and despair.
“As the days go by, I die and open my eyes again. I have no real sleep or food. I’m like the living dead,” he said.
“I just walk and think. It is hard to think of the things that come to my mind.
“When I try to sleep, I have nightmares and wake up late at night.
“I look out of the window at the beautiful night sky and the stars, and say to myself how everything beautiful in this galaxy is far away from us.”
‘Like me, they are living day and night in
an empty wait’
Although trained by UK forces, the 29-year-old is not eligible for ARAP, the Afghan Relocation and Assistance Policy intended for those who actively worked for British authorities in the country.
A newly launched Home Office scheme intended to allow up to 5,000 Afghan civilians a year into the UK is also beyond his reach. With a young wife and daughter, he cannot hope to run the Taliban gauntlet to escape Afghanistan.
When there is power to charge his phone, his monotony is punctuated by Whatsapp conversations with military colleagues and friends across the country.
Their fates reflect his.
“Like me, they are living day and night in an empty wait between hope and despair,” said Shirshah.
“The Taliban gained access to national security files and are going from house to house, secretly and systematically assassinating former soldiers.
“Every day I hear of another. I know my name is on a list and it can only be a matter of time until they find me.”
His 22-year-old wife Khadijeh – a former law student – does her best to keep his spirits up, he says, but her future has been stolen, too.
As the crisis unfolded, Khadijeh was able to sell her gold jewellery.
The proceeds of that sale were long ago swallowed by the heavily inflated prices of
Kabul’s markets. Even under the Taliban, which claims to despise the corruption and decadence of the West, those few who can somehow pay their way prosper.
“Though my wife can go out occasionally, the Taliban government has done nothing
to create a proper system for governing,” Shirshah said.
“Even though unemployment is at a record high, they tax like never before, and still, after all these months, there is no news about their system and administration.
“What do we do if our daughter falls ill? Most clinics are now closed.
“There are no medical facilities and, of course, no vaccines.”
With little prospect of diplomatic ties between the UK and the Taliban government being restored in the near future, he sees no light at the end of the tunnel.
“We know the truth. Those government officials who lined their pockets for 20 years while allowing Afghanistan to become more corrupt, while we fought and died to preserve democracy and the rights of all, and then stabbed us in the back when the Taliban came, they have gone,” he said.
“We remain.”