‘Nowhere to go’: divorced Afghan women in peril as the Taliban close in
There’s an old saying in Afghanistan that encapsulates the country’s views on divorce: “A woman only leaves her father’s house in the white bridal clothes, and she can only return in the white shrouds.”
In this deeply conservative and patriarchal society, women who defy convention and seek divorce are often disowned by their families and shunned by Afghan society. Left alone, they have to fight for basic rights, such as renting an apartment, which require the involvement or guarantees of male relatives.
Despite the social stigma and barriers to independence, there are divorced women living in Afghanistan today. Women like Roqia* and Tahira*, who divorced seven and eight years ago respectively, and now share an apartment. Together, Roqia and Tahira have weathered many storms and supported each other, united by their similar experiences.
Both women were born as refugees in Iran. Roqia, 30, returned to Afghanistan in 2009 when the future of the country seemed brighter and full of hope. “When I turned 20, my family married me to a man we didn’t know very well. But it wasn’t a good match, and we divorced seven years later,” she says.
Soon after the separation, Roqia realised she was not just divorcing her husband, but also her family and community. “I was rejected. I had nothing and nowhere to go,” she says. “With my five-year-old son, I went to my father, but he was on his deathbed. I had no other men in my life to help me. My brother died a few years ago,” she says.
Men and women in Roqia’s life distanced themselves from her. “My mother and other relatives rejected me, saying that I had not heeded their advice on the divorce. They were against it, so I no longer had a place in their home,” she says.
Roqia and her son spent a cold winter in a women’s shelterin Kabul. “When I realised I couldn’t feed my child for days on end, I decided to hand him over to my husband’s family,” she says. In most divorces in Afghanistan, the custody of children over five is given to the father.
Tahira, who comes from the western city of Herat, shares a similar tale. “I was married off by my family when I was 19. But I couldn’t even live for two years with him, and I got a divorce,” she says. Soon after she was shunned by her family.
“They did not eat on the same table with me, or touch the food I made. They would tell me, ‘you are a divorced woman, and what you cook is unclean’,” she says. Eventually, tired of the emotional and mental stress, Tahira decided to leave. “It was at dawn, one day, the sun hadn’t fully risen, and I left my family with only the clothes I was wearing. I got into a taxi to Kabul and never looked back,” she says.
Now, after establishing new, independent lives in Kabul, Roqia and Tahira, and thousands more in similar situations, face another ordeal. As the Taliban tightens its grip on approaches to Kabul, they fear for their future. “If the Taliban take over Kabul, they will