Latest news with #ZanTimes
Toronto Star
5 days ago
- Politics
- Toronto Star
I grew up being humiliated as an Afghan refugee in Iran and I can't turn away from harm facing refugees there today
By Zahra Nader Contributor Ceri Marsh is a Toronto-based writer, author and book coach. She runs a membership called Write Your Damn Book. I have been following the crisis Afghan refugees face in Iran and Pakistan, as a journalist and editor-in-chief of Zan Times, a media outlet that covers human rights in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. I might not be 'objective' in the traditional sense because I stand on the side of the people, on the side of those at the receiving end of suffering and trauma. I do this as a survivor. I lived as a child refugee in Iran and was subjected to inhumane treatment. As an Afghan refugee there, I didn't have the right to education. I was abused on a daily basis on the streets of Tehran and was often told, 'Nasty Afghan, go back to your country.' That experience is now a trauma I've been reliving every day for the past few months.
The Guardian
06-05-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
‘Whipped in front of everyone': three women on being flogged by the Taliban
Three Afghan women who were brutally flogged in public by the Taliban after being accused of 'moral crimes' have bravely spoken out about the cruelty they endured. More than 1,000 people – at least 200 of whom were women – are now known to have been humiliated in public floggings since the Taliban's return to power in 2021, according to court records and media reports. The true numbers are probably much higher. Among those who were whipped are women accused of 'moral crimes', which include leaving home without a close male relative to act as a mahram (guardian), or being seen speaking to unrelated men. All three women who spoke to the Guardian and Zan Times, an Afghan news agency, said they had been forced to confess to alleged moral crimes before they were punished. With her husband working in Iran, 38-year-old Deeba* is the sole provider for her seven children. As a tailor, she sews men's clothes in her home and goes out alone to deliver them. In the past two years, she has been arrested twice by the Taliban's 'morality police'. The first time was when she was renting a sewing machine from a man she was not related to. She says she was beaten, called a 'prostitute' and spent four nights in jail. The second arrest happened three months later when she was sitting in a cafe charging her phone. She was wearing a long coat and a large shawl, but the Taliban 'vice and virtue' enforcers still questioned her. 'They said, 'Why are you unveiled? Why are you alone without a mahram?' I told them, 'The earthquake [Afghanistan was hit by several in 2023] has made it hard to go home. There's no electricity. That's why I came here to charge my phone and grab a sandwich.'' Her answer provoked the Taliban even further. 'They kicked the sandwich shop owner out of his own place and slapped him, shouting, 'Why did you let this woman into your store? What relationship do you have with her?' When I saw them treating him like that, I argued with them.' Two days later, she was arrested and taken into custody by the Taliban and accused of insulting the police, as well as being a woman without a mahram outside her home. She was held in prison for 20 days. 'There were 15 of us in one cell. Four beds; the rest slept on the floor. They weren't giving us food. The blankets were filthy. 'I asked for my phone to call home because my daughter was sick and didn't know I'd been arrested, but the Taliban refused. I screamed, begged. But instead they threw me into a solitary cell.' Deeba was brought before a Taliban court. No lawyer represented her. The judge convicted her of appearing without a male guardian and insulting religious scholars. She was sentenced to 25 lashes. 'They took me to a public place, covered my head, and whipped me in front of everyone,' she says. Deeba says she was then detained for another two days to ensure some of her wounds healed. Since returning home, Deeba says she has struggled with the humiliation of the public flogging and is on medication to cope with her trauma. 'When I was released, even my closest friends started treating me differently. They called me names and spoke about me with such disgust because they'd been told lies about what happened. 'It was just so hard. Unbearably hard. Can anyone understand what it's like to be slapped in front of a crowd, punched in front of people, covered up and flogged in public?' Sahar*, 22, was very sick last year. Her father worked in Iran and her mother ran a carpet-weaving workshop in a village in western Afghanistan. There was no one to take her to the clinic where two of her uncles were working. Her mother called her male cousin to drive her. The Taliban stopped their vehicle just before reaching the clinic and asked about their relationship. 'When we said we are cousins but we weren't married, they became aggressive. They beat my cousin, smashed our phones, and forced me to hide on the floor of the Taliban truck as they drove me to their station,' says Sahar. She says she was then taken to a detention centre. 'I was terrified, crying, and I couldn't breathe. Sign up to Global Dispatch Get a different world view with a roundup of the best news, features and pictures, curated by our global development team after newsletter promotion 'I told them I was sick and asked for some medicine. That's when they slapped me and kicked me several times. One of them said, 'If you raise your voice again, we'll kill you and your cousin.'' Sahar says she was interrogated by a veiled woman. 'She asked who my cousin was; whether I was a virgin; whether we had a relationship. I said no. She warned me that I had to confess and if I didn't obey, I'd be tortured.' The next day, Sahar and her cousin were brought before a Taliban court, where she says she was forced to falsely claim she had a relationship with her cousin. She had no lawyer. Despite the presence of relatives who testified that they were family, the Taliban refused to recognise their relationship as mahram and permissible. 'They made me confess, in front of my mother, my uncles, that I had done something wrong. I didn't want to say it. But they hit me, threatened my cousin. I was terrified,' she says. Sahar says she was sentenced to 30 lashes and her cousin to 70. 'They used loudspeakers to announce our punishment. My little sister was there. She used to say I was her role model. I saw her crying in the crowd. That broke me.' After returning home, Sahar says she was forced to leave her village. 'After this happened, people's view of us changed completely. Even if 50 people didn't believe the accusation, 100 others did. That forced us to leave our home and move to the city.' A similar story is told by 18-year-old Karima* in another western province. In 2023, aged 16, she says she was travelling with her male cousin to buy sewing supplies for her mother when the Taliban stopped them. 'We were stopped on the road. The Taliban asked for our IDs. I told them he was my cousin, but they said, 'That's not a valid mahram. You don't have the right to be with him.' They arrested us on the spot.' She spent two months in prison and suffered panic attacks and hallucinations. 'I blacked out,' Karima says. 'When I woke up, my wrists were handcuffed and bleeding, and another prisoner told me they had tied me down and stepped on me.' Karima says she and her cousin were flogged in the main square of the city where they lived. She was given 39 lashes and her cousin received 50. They were then taken back to prison. 'They kept us for another week. They said we couldn't leave until the wounds healed. They didn't want anyone to see what they had done.' When she was released, Taliban officials told her she was banned from leaving the country: ''You're being watched,' they told me, 'You're not allowed to go abroad.'' However, like Sahar and Deeba, the humiliation of people staring at her and whispering about her when she went back to her home village forced her to move to a different city in Afghanistan. * Names have been changed to protect their identities
The Guardian
03-04-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
‘I begged them, my daughter was dying': how Taliban male escort rules are killing mothers and babies
It was the middle of the night when Zarin Gul realised that her daughter Nasrin had to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Her daughter's husband was away working in Iran and the two women were alone with Nasrin's seven children when Nasrin, heavily pregnant with her eighth child, began experiencing severe pains. Gul helped Nasrin into a rickshaw and they set off into the night. Holding her daughter's hand as the rickshaw jolted over the dirt road, Gul says she prayed they would not encounter a Taliban checkpoint. 'I kept thinking, if only Nasrin's husband were here. If only I could ease my daughter's pain,' she says. Her prayers were not answered. The rickshaw's small lamp was spotted by Taliban fighters who signalled for them to stop and demanded to know where they were going. As a frightened Gul explained that her daughter was sick and needed urgent medical attention, they asked why the women were travelling without a male escort, or mahram. Even though Gul explained that Nasrin's husband was working abroad, the fighters refused to allow them to pass and continue their journey to the hospital. 'I begged them, telling them my daughter was dying. I pleaded for their permission,' says Gul. 'But they still refused. In desperation, I lied and said the rickshaw driver was my nephew and our guardian. Only then did they let us pass.' By the time they reached the hospital it was too late. Nasrin's baby had already died in her womb, and her uterus had ruptured. The doctors said Nasrin needed to be transferred to another hospital and so Gul helped her daughter into another rickshaw and they set off again, towards a government hospital an hour away. On their way they were stopped at two more Taliban checkpoints, each time detained for long periods because they were travelling alone. They did finally reach the hospital, but Nasrin had not survived the journey. 'The doctors told us that due to excessive bleeding and the ruptured uterus, both the baby and the mother had died,' says Gul. 'We buried them side by side.' The Guardian and Zan Times, an Afghan news agency, has interviewed dozens of women and healthcare professionals across multiple Afghan provinces. Their testimonies build a picture of a maternal and child healthcare system dangerously compromised and eroded by the Taliban's draconian policies towards women. Their refusal to let women travel to hospitals unaccompanied, combined with increasing rates of early marriage, poor access to healthcare, unsafe roads and a cultural neglect of women's health will inevitably contribute to increased maternal deaths in Afghanistan, according to UN agencies. Even before the Taliban took power, Afghanistan had a maternal mortality rate three times higher than the global average, according to the last official World Bank figures from 2020. Experts warn that maternal health is likely to deteriorate further, compounded by the Taliban's decision in December 2024 to close all medical training to women, including prospective midwives. According to a report by the World Health Organization (WHO), 24 mothers and 167 infants already die every day in Afghanistan from preventable causes. It is estimated that more than 20,000 villages across the country lack basic healthcare services, affecting 14 million people. A recent UN Women report estimated that by 2026, a woman's chance of dying in childbirth will have increased by 50%. Hospital staff in provinces across Afghanistan have reported that women have been persistently prevented from accessing maternal healthcare because they were not accompanied by a man. A medical professional at Mirwais regional hospital in Kandahar says the hospital receives female patients from across Kandahar but also from neighbouring provinces. 'Most arrive in critical condition and some die simply because they were brought in too late,' they say. 'Some babies die in the womb, while others pass away within minutes of birth.' According to staff, the hospital recorded at least 800 maternal deaths and more than 1,000 newborn deaths last year. 'A young woman arrived at the hospital after giving birth in a taxi,' says Samina, a midwife working in a government hospital in Kandahar. 'Her baby had died on the way due to a lack of oxygen. When I asked her why she hadn't come to the hospital sooner, she replied, 'I had to wait for my husband to return from work. I had no other male guardian.'' Two women told the Guardian they had experienced miscarriage due to inability to access care. One interviewee reported the death of a family member during labour. Sign up to Global Dispatch Get a different world view with a roundup of the best news, features and pictures, curated by our global development team after newsletter promotion 'My sister died yesterday during childbirth,' says 35-year-old Pashtana* from Kandahar province. 'Her husband was not at home when she went into labour, and she could not go to the doctor alone.' Pashtana said if her sister had travelled to the clinic alone, 'she would not be treated because she did not have a mahram'. Several women told the Guardian that they were denied treatment and prescriptions in the absence of a male guardian or because they lacked the permission of one. 'I don't get to see the doctors or get medicines unless I am accompanied by my son or grandson,' says Qandi Gul*, a 50-year-old woman who had travelled to a clinic for an eye exam. A female doctor from the eastern province of Nangarhar says: 'Since the Taliban takeover, women don't visit the doctor unless the sickness develops to the point of being unbearable. 'One reason is because of financial hardships, but sometimes the reason is because the men of the families are careless and do not bring the woman to the doctor sooner. And since they can't travel on their own, their condition worsens,' she says. Already, a growing shortage of qualified medical professionals and midwives is putting the lives of women and children at serious risk, particularly in rural areas where few trained doctors are available. Doctors interviewed by the Guardian estimated that 'more than half' of their female colleagues had quit their jobs, particularly in smaller cities and villages. 'Most of my colleagues have left Afghanistan and this has severely affected the healthcare sector in the country,' said Dr Sima*, who chose to stay along with her husband, also a doctor. 'We are both specialists, and we realised we would not be able to do this work abroad so we stayed to serve the country.' A midwife from Takhar province says officials from the Taliban's ministry for the propagation of virtue and prevention of vice constantly harass and humiliate female medical staff. 'We try our best to do our jobs, but the pressure is unbearable. Many of us just want to quit. Sometimes, they insult us, claiming our clothing is 'un-Islamic'. 'One day, our emergency ward was overwhelmed with patients. That section is for women only, and men are not allowed. But Taliban enforcers barged in and took away three female nurses, claiming their uniforms were inappropriate. They made them sign a pledge to wear longer clothing before letting them go. Even in life and death emergencies, instead of letting us treat patients they are instead arresting us over our clothing.' Names have been changed to protect the identity of the interviewees and some of the writers. A version of this story was originally published by Zan Times
