Taliban sexual slavery;

What is going on under the skin of the city?

One day I was having breakfast with my husband, and our gate bell rang. My son came and said: Father, the Taliban are asking you. My husband got up and went to the gate. Moments later, some Taliban militias entered the house and a ranger (vehicle) with some armed men was standing behind the gate.

After many conversations, my husband said: Get up, they say that we have to go with them and help a sick person.

I was afraid and trembled where they were taking us. I said: They should be taken to the hospital, why did they come to me and you, Are there not enough doctors in the city how do they know that I am a doctor and how do they know our house address?

What issues were not behind this work? My husband said softly: No, there is nothing, don't worry, I am by your side. After hearing his words, a relative peace came over me. We left the house anxiously and got into a military car. When we got in the car, someone said in Pashto: Close their eyes! My husband is Tajik and I am from a Kandahari Pashtun family I knew that these people are from Kandahar. I said in Pashto: Why are you closing our eyes, aren't we going to see your sick person? He looked at me and did not answer.

Our eyes closed on an unknown path, and we moved with a thousand troubles, we moved from alley to alley for about 18 minutes, that is, it was not a straight path. Maybe we were going to a place near us because we didn't know where we were going, they drove the car from alley to alley. Then we entered a house and a Talib asked to take my shoulder to walk me. My husband said violently: Don't touch her!

I did not know exactly where this place was, what we were doing there, where was the patient and what are all these soldiers with different faces doing.

We were guided to an underground. I was horrified when the gate opened. What I saw was unbelievable and I threw myself into my husband's arms. Approximately 28 young women were kept in a basement.

A woman was lying in the corner with a serum map in her hand, she was breathing hard. In one moment, I realized my misfortune and being a woman in this country, and then I understood why we were brought here.

One of the Taliban soldiers said to a woman who I think was their accomplice: "Examine all of them, which ones are pregnant, which ones are not, and what are their problems. Get them all!" I was scared and panic took over me. I said: How can I reach all this with one examination device?
"Don't worry, we have a furnished room upstairs, "A Talib said.
We went to the 2nd floor of the house, it was a well-equipped room with all advanced medical facilities, which was more like a gynecology and obstetrics examination room. Like a pre-planned game, who had played with our fate and life? Who made our future so dark?

We understand what is going on. This place was not only a place for the Taliban soldiers to indulge their lust or restrain their egos, but more like a baby factory, perhaps for their sinister purposes in the future. I had no choice but to help. I said coldly, who am I going to examine?

Someone named Qari Qais, who introduced himself as a resident of Maidan Wardak and considered these women to be religious women of the Mujahideen, ordered me to address all of their problems and not to remind anyone, not even my family members, of what I see here. Otherwise, they will kill my husband. With the fear I had and the hell in which I saw my peers, I accepted everything and saw no other choice. I told myself that I should do my doctorate job.

I asked my husband who was next to me to leave the room and I also asked the Taliban that I should be alone with patients and leave the room. The Taliban did not accept. I also refused to examine and said that I was not used to this and that I needed to be alone with the patient so that I could diagnose their pain better. This is not possible in your existence.

My husband got up and left, and followed him, the Taliban soldier also left. But one of them with their scary looks, he understands me that he stays behind the door and is careful.

They called two women and after a few minutes, two women came with almost a dead body. In the beginning, they found a woman who was walking around freely and it was clear that she was their accomplice. I didn't see it and I guessed that it was outside, then I told these ladies, one of you should bring a sick person and the others should help me, that they should be examined. They accepted and the ladies came with nicknames such as Beheshte and Hawa... one of these ladies was from Ghazni and from the Hazara tribe, and the other was a native of Kabul Qazlbash or a Tajik. They came without a word or movement and then left for examination. From heaven, whose real name is something else. I asked how many women were there. She said: In the beginning, when they brought us, there were six of us, and later our number increased. They took some and did not bring them back.

What I heard was difficult and I couldn't believe that such cruelty was happening in this city in such an era. I asked curiously: "Aren't you women of the Sharia Mujahideen? This is what they say!"

She laughed and said: If I am religiously their wife, why don't they take us to official hospitals? We are the women of all Mujahideen and then shed tears.

I asked what does it mean?

She didn't say anything and I understood from her silence that everything is premeditated. I asked others to come a little sooner if someone was sick.

They came one by one, each of them had a story to tell about themselves, and a pain. One was from Jalalabad, her father was the previous judge in the previous government, and the Taliban had forcibly taken his daughter because of what they did not know about her father's fair behavior because she was old when her father died and he did not have a son, so the Taliban would kill him or imprison him for revenge. Because they wanted to take revenge on that innocent girl, she was still twenty-five years old and the marks of torture were easily visible on her body. She has already been burned, and her wrists were bruised as if she had been tied with something hard or during physical torture or rape. I saw cigarette burns and the marks of wood torture on her body.

I didn't ask anything! Because I couldn't bear to hear their answers.

Then someone who was at the gate called out to bring Dilaram, they were all brought in for turn examination and I spent almost five hours examining them.

Pham's grief and abuse had covered their entire lives. Some of them preferred death to this life refused to be examined or take medicine, and had no way to end their life or their pain. One of those girls, who introduced herself as a resident of Kabul, begged: "Doctor, what can you do, apply a poisonous screw to me, I will make my blood halal." I don't want to live this life."

I said: bear with me and I didn't know what else to say.

She cried almost loudly and said that I had not done anything wrong, my father was torn to shreds years ago in a suicide attack near the German embassy, ​​and I have no brother, several little sisters, and a weak mother. Without any excuse, they came one day, picked me up from the road, and brought me here. I've been here for two months, I don't care about my mother, I'm short of breath, I hate myself, being a woman, and my body.

I asked: Did they marry you?

She said: What is Nikah, I did not see any Mullah or Nikah. On the first day, they brought me to a lonely room, I searched every side of the room to find a knife or a tool to commit suicide. Because I knew what was going to happen to me, but I didn't. No matter how much I prayed to God, there was no one to hear my voice. The room was in the lower house, and the only way out was the gate of the room, which was also closed from the outside, I was alone in the room for hours until a Talib came and I wailed with a trembling body that I had no sin, I was neither with the republic nor like you, I am a helpless human being and I only want to live. But he didn't listen to me at all.

I was taken to the upper house, there was a room on the first floor, and there was a washroom and a bathroom in the room. I, who was in prison for several hours, was not in a good mood when they started to take me away, I washed my hands and face and wished that maybe they would release me. I lived between hope and despair. After several hours, a Talib with long hair entered the room and asked me some questions, but none of them related to me.

Then he went out and a few minutes later entered the room with fruit juice and cake. He offered me to eat. I didn't know if I was hungry or not, I didn't feel like it at all, but I accepted it out of fear, but I didn't eat.

A victim narrated: The person who welcomed you at the gate is called Faizullah. He is the one who met me on the first day. This person told me about jihad, the benefits of hadiths, and everything that was useful to them. Recently, he discussed about Jihad al-Nikah. But I called him brother and I begged that my mother is waiting for me, let me go, I am nothing but an ordinary citizen, it had no effect at all. He offered to let me go if I slept with him. At the moment, there was no one else except a few people. I refused and started crying. But it had no effect. In the end, he told me that if you don't accept this job, maybe worse things will happen to you.

On the first day, Faizullah raped me without my consent. On the same day, some other Talibs also came. I have been here for almost two months. So far, more than a hundred Taliban have raped me and other women and girls. The majority of them were Arabs, Pakistanis, and Chechens.

Once upon a time, the Taliban talked about "Afghan pride", honor, and dignity, but today they auction their pride and honor to strangers and throw them under their feet.


Resource: 8AM
Translated: Najeeb Farzad