Witness 22 In-person Testimony

I am truly grateful for this opportunity you’ve given me to speak so I can talk about what has happened in Afghanistan, what we call crimes against humanity, and what I myself have witnessed.

We all know that in these four years of the Taliban’s rule in Afghanistan, Afghan women do not have access to their most fundamental rights. And day by day, they are facing a regime of extreme repression and gender apartheid. This apartheid and these crimes against humanity are subjects that I myself have witnessed in Afghanistan and continue to witness.

The four years of Taliban rule are intolerable and unbelievable, not just for me, but for every human being who believes in human values and human rights. The days the Taliban were reaching Afghanistan and the provinces of Afghanistan were falling one by one to the Taliban…

…I and my colleagues, who had fought for many years for human rights, for human values, and for the preservation of these matters, held consecutive press conferences against the Taliban’s crimes. Because we witnessed the crimes they committed as they took over Afghanistan’s provinces, one by one. And we knew that the Taliban would never change. The Taliban’s ideology is anti-human.

We held those press conferences and spoke in front of the media, both outside and inside Afghanistan. That was the exact day, August 15th, that the Taliban took Kabul. That was the scene I witnessed, where groups and groups of Taliban members were pouring into Kabul city. And the people were so terrified that I thought everyone’s existence had dried up.

I remember that day well. And it is very difficult for me to describe that day. I will only say that that day was not the fall of a country; it was the fall of human values and human rights. And on that day, we lost everything we believed in.

As I mentioned before, the arrival of the Taliban and the return of this group to power was unacceptable to any of us. I, along with some girls who believed in human values and human rights, started civil protests. The only path we had was to hold civil protests.

Because the Taliban, from their very first days, denied women the right to education. And day by day, their restrictions increased, which was intolerable for us. So, we resorted to protests. And we, the protesting women of Afghanistan, without any support, without any protection, laid the foundation for the fight against the Taliban.

I remember the protests we led very well. During our protests, the Taliban used countless acts of violence. In one of the protests, Taliban members were ordering each other to “shoot, and eliminate these filthy people.” In another protest, they sprayed pepper spray on us.

They even shot to try and disperse us. And to prevent us from raising our voices, and to stop anyone from hearing us, they would turn up the alarms of their cars so no one would hear our voices. And even now, when a car passes by with an alarm on, a fear and terror takes over my entire being.

Well, our protests were not without pain and suffering. And we paid an enormous price for our rights. Unfortunately, on January 19th, 2022, a Wednesday between afternoon and evening, I was arrested by the Taliban. And that was while I was in the car with my family.

My mother was there, my sister was there, my brother-in-law was there, and his two children, one six years old and the other ten years old. And my mother was sick. We wanted to come home from the hospital. Not even one minute after our car started moving, the Taliban stopped our car. In their very first step, they pulled my brother-in-law out of the car with kicks and blows. They blindfolded him with a black cloth, tied his hands, and took him away from our car.

When my sister’s son, a 10-year-old child, tried to go after his father, one of the Taliban soldiers slapped him across the face, and they took that 10-year-old child hostage among them. They created such terror in the car, and in this state, they wanted to move us away from the public eye. Of course, in that area, there was no one, I didn’t even think a living creature would be in that area.

After that, by showing their weapons and taking my 10-year-old nephew hostage—they put the rifle to his head—my six-year-old niece went into shock and panic. And to this day, when we ask her if she wants to go to Afghanistan, she says, “No, I don’t want to go,” because she says, “I saw that shock,” and she is even unable to speak correctly, a six-year-old child who experienced that situation.

Well, the ordeal began when they transferred me to a secluded area, surrounded on all sides by Taliban soldiers, and more than dozens of Taliban soldiers were present, heavily armed to the teeth. You would think they were arresting a person who was a very major criminal. They transferred me and pulled me out of the car, right next to my mother.

And they pointed their weapons at my family so they wouldn’t dare to cry out. And then the Taliban took me with them. When I got out of the car, I looked around; I couldn’t even walk. Because they were all armed, and there was no woman with them—they were all men that I had to look at in that way, since they were so big. They transferred me and sat me between two Taliban members in the front of the car.

Well, first of all, I tried not to show fear and terror on my face, and to show the same courage I had shown in the streets of Kabul. I looked at them and said, “Well, you suppress women under the name of religion, sect, or whatever you have created. So how can you sit me between two men in a car without me being your mahram (a close male relative a woman is not forbidden to be alone with)? This is not right; my body is touching your bodies.”

Well, they decided to move me to the front of the car, and they moved the person who was in the front to the back. And at the moment they moved me, the torture began. The torture started from that very moment. They slapped my face, hit me with the butt of the rifle, and tortured me with electric shocks. Until we reached the area near the Bagh-e Zanana (Women’s Park) in Kabul.

In that area, one of the Taliban members came and said, “Blindfold this filthy person.” They blindfolded me, put a blanket over my head, and told me to keep my head down. They put the barrel of the gun to my head, saying, “If you move, we’ll shoot you in the head.” And after that, I didn’t know where they took me.

When they opened my eyes, there was a very faint light in the room; I could only see near my feet. When they opened my eyes and I could see again, I found myself surrounded by Taliban members. People with furious faces, faces full of hatred, and the words they were saying: “Eliminate this filth; she has no right to live, she has the right to die.”

The torture began to intensify in that prison. I was hearing the cries of my brother-in-law, whom they had imprisoned because of my protests. And even today, I feel a sense of guilt towards my sister, her children, and her husband. Because they were innocent people who were subjected to psychological and physical torture because of my protests. And now, my sister’s children, her husband, and she herself are wrestling with a sense of trauma.

The Taliban had three main reasons for punishing me: first that I was protesting at the behest of some country or an organization affiliated with the United Nations. Second that I was a woman who did not practice Islam according to their beliefs. And third that I was someone who was promoting external ideologies in Afghanistan, according to their term.

They issued an official letter to execute me by stoning, to suppress our protests and create fear among the women of the Resistance, and also for my brother-in-law. They wanted to kill us with stones.

In that moment, I only wished I could die. And with the pain that came over me as a result of the Taliban’s torture—and unfortunately, I was also on my period at the time—I simply could not imagine that I would have hope to live. I didn’t want to live anymore. I said, “It is better to die than to be taken somewhere and stoned by the Taliban.” But I did not succeed. I attempted suicide several times in the prison, but I failed.

I spent nights and days wondering what it would be like if I were stoned. And I repeatedly imagined my name alongside the names of Farkhunda and Rukhshana (women famously killed in Afghanistan). And I would wish, “God, you didn’t grant me death, at least let me have a bulletproof vest, a thick jacket, so I don’t feel the pain of the stones they throw at me.”

That was the situation where, alongside the suffering I was enduring, I could hear the voices and cries of others being tortured. Inside the prison, it was all torture, with whatever means they had—pipes, cables, or the butts of their pistols—they tortured us.

I had no contact with my family. They only allowed me to call my family after several weeks, and that was for the sake of bail. Someone had to guarantee my bail so that I would be freed from the Taliban’s prison. I talked to my family and told them they planned to release me, but I needed a guarantor. The aim of the guarantee was that I should not leave Afghanistan, should not speak about the Taliban’s crimes in the media, and should not participate in protests—I had to stay at home completely.

After that, the issue of my bail was resolved, and it was decided I would be released. But even at that moment, I was beaten again, without any reason. One of the Taliban members ordered the other, “Just hit her on the head twice.” I thought they might shoot me in the head now that they had taken my statement, and they wouldn’t let me go; they might want to eliminate me and cover up the whole incident.

And following that beating by the Taliban, especially the hits to my head, I still have a deep, deep pain in my head. And I suffer from severe headaches. In these four years, whatever treatment I’ve sought has not been successful. Not to mention the greater psychological pain I endure. Well, upon my release, they recorded a forced video confession from me.

I had to say what they had written themselves. They told me, “Either you say it, or we will kill you with a bullet. And there’s a cable right here, or you will be beaten.” These were the three options they gave me. And I was forced to utter the things that the Taliban had written. And I had to write what was on the paper in my own handwriting and sign it at the bottom, confirming that the matters I was talking about were indeed the reasons I had gone out to protest, that I had been supported, and other things. And with the guarantee of bail, I was released from the Taliban’s prison.

I was released from the Taliban’s prison, but I entered another prison: the prison of my home. Despite being released from prison, the Taliban still had a plan to kill me.

Honorable Judges, this was one part of the Taliban’s crimes that I experienced with my skin and my voice. And even now, my psychological and physical state remains critical. But during the Taliban’s terrorist attacks over the past 20 years, I lost my younger brother before my eyes. And now, my family is living with the pain of the Taliban’s attacks and crimes. I may be a small example of the people who have suffered immense pain from the Taliban over the years.

But, Honorable Judges, I only want to say this: Such a destiny was not the right of me and the rest of the women of Afghanistan. Thank you.