Seattle-area Afghans enduring sleepless nights, terrified for family in hiding under Taliban rule

Ghulam, an Afghan immigrant living in Kent, imagined the worst when the Taliban took over his homeland. If the fighters started killing people this week, he didn’t want all of his family members to be wiped out at once. So he urged his parents and siblings who lived together to hide in different cities.

“Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t open doors. Don’t say anything about me. ”

Ghulam worked for the US government in Afghanistan before emigrating, which could put his family at risk. (Because of this, like others interviewed for this story, Ghulam asked not to be fully identified.)

His family members separated, followed his advice, and told him not to worry. “If we never see you again, remember that we love you,” they told him.

Ghulam choked as he remembered the conversations. He and his wife have cried a lot in the last few days. Your children asked, “What’s wrong?”

Thousands of Afghan immigrants in Washington are asking the same question. They constantly speak to relatives in Afghanistan who fear for their safety given the history of executions, stoning and suppression of women’s rights and girls’ education by the Taliban. Approximately 4,500 Afghans have come to Washington since 2014 through a visa program for those who have worked with the U.S. government, adding an added risk to their families living under rulers Americans long viewed as enemies.

The US has evacuated American officials and some Afghans who worked with them. Nicky Smith, executive director of the International Rescue Committee in Seattle, which resettles refugees, said in the past two weeks her organization has helped about 40 Afghans who have arrived in the past two weeks, including someone who was on one of its last flights Monday night has achieved. The scene was chaotic, with people crowding into the Kabul airport holding onto the sides of a plane from the Lewis-McChord Joint Base. Many have stayed behind.

Azizulla Jabarkhail’s wife and three children are in Afghanistan and he has not been able to bring them back to Kent. They made an extended visit in May because his wife was depressed and missed her parents and siblings, Jabarkhail said.

While the Taliban gained ground as American troops withdrew, Jabarkhail said his wife’s home appeared safe enough to visit. That quickly changed as the Taliban captured city after city until they captured Kabul on Sunday. “It came like a tsunami,” said Jabarkhail.

Shortly before, he had tried to reschedule the return flight date for his wife and children. But so many people wanted to leave that ticket prices jumped $ 2,000 apiece. Jabarkhail, a political science student at the University of Washington and part-time hail driver, said he couldn’t afford it.

He said he managed to reach American officials in Kabul and was told to fill out a form asking for an emergency evacuation. He said his wife is a legal permanent resident of the United States and that his children are American citizens.

“I didn’t sleep at all last night,” he said the day after the Taliban captured Kabul, repeating the others.

Noor Aaf, a Seattle medical assistant who trained as a doctor before coming to the United States in 1989, said he couldn’t concentrate. He has a large family in Afghanistan, including a college granddaughter.

He said he felt calmer after hearing from relatives that a Taliban leader gave a speech in their area assuring both men and women that they could continue to work and that women could keep their hair and Should cover some parts of the body, but do not need to wear the burqa from head to toe like under the Taliban rule in the 1990s. Other Taliban officials have promised in a public relations campaign to respect women’s rights, including education, and to amnesty those who supported the previous government or foreign armed forces.

Aaf said the city where his relatives live has returned to normal. People work. Shops are open. But he’s worried.

United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres said, among other things, he has received reports of human rights violations that are inconsistent with rhetoric. In an ominous sign, Aaf said he heard Taliban officials confiscated weapons.

Aaf is the founder of an organization that built schools for girls. As far as he knows, they’re still open. But he said, “I have a big dream for these girls. I don’t see this future for them. ”

At least the future is uncertain.

“Who knows what’s going to happen in a month or two?” asked Malahat, executive director of the Seattle-based nonprofit Sahar, which also builds girls’ schools in Afghanistan and runs a range of girls and women empowerment programs. The organization has stopped building a boarding school and has suspended its programs until it believes they can be continued safely.

Malahat, who first came to the US as a high school exchange student and has since lived in both the US and Afghanistan, said she speaks to family members in her home country every day. She fears that even her presence in the US could cast a shadow over her.

“My mind is going crazy,” she said.

The memory of the Taliban rule has remained terrifying. Another Afghan immigrant from the Seattle area recalls how Taliban soldiers broke into people’s homes, called up the young men, and took the young women away and forced them into marriages. He worries that it will happen to his brothers and sisters.

Even some Afghan immigrants who have no relatives in the country are heartbroken. Wali Khairzada, owner of Kabul Afghan Cuisine in Wallingford, came to the US in 1972 and said all of his relatives now live in Europe. Nevertheless, he described the Sunday when the Taliban invaded Kabul as “the saddest day of my life”.

He suspects that the Taliban conquered the country with ease because the Afghans are “fed up with 40 years of war and misery … They don’t care who is in charge.”

Still, he said, “I can’t understand what’s happening. I’m in shock. ”