The anonymous women

A chadari is a traditional Afghan female garment, used to cover the entire body from head to toe, including the face, leaving only a small slit for the eyes, also covered by a net. It is usually a light-medium blue and has become quite famous from the pictures published in the western media during and immediately after the Taliban regime, becoming a symbol of the direct and structural violence perpetrated against women during these short but extremely brutal years. 

In addition to expelling women completely from public life – including trained professionals who were a pillar of the country’s economy – the Taliban regime imposed, under harsh punishments for transgressors, the obligation for each and every woman to wear a chadari when leaving the house. This effectively ensured that women, in those rare and limited instances when they stepped into the public space, would be completely indistinguishable from one another, blue identical ghosts who were not really individuals, did not have a face, nor feelings, hopes, professional skills. 

After the Taliban regime was ended and some parts of the country were (more or less) secured, women began stepping out of their homes again. On today’s streets of Kabul today, I could see few women in chadari, while most have loosely fitted head scarves, leaving part of their hair exposed. Although no longer a legal requirement, some semblance of a head scarf is still worn, even by expat women. But, from my perspective, there can be no comparison between a head scarf and a chadari. Scarves leave much to the choice of each women: they come in a myriad of shapes, sizes, patterns and colours. They also leave the body exposed, to be dressed in an equal variety of shirts, pants, skirts and dresses (though some requirements of covering still have to be met, such as not leaving any skin exposed except for the hands, feet and face). 

This newfound freedom to publicly expose one’s identity in its most basic form – showing one’s face – has, sadly, not extended too much beyond the capital. As I am currently working in the capital of a province in northern Afghanistan, I have had the opportunity to observe the presence of women on the streets of this city which is considered one of the safest in Afghanistan. Indeed, it’s safe to say that the war has barely touched this province, compared to the destruction it caused in other parts of the country. However, women here still do not feel safe enough to leave their chadari at home when leaving the house. So far, nineteen out of twenty women I saw on the street were completely covered in this garment. 

Even my local colleagues wear it, although they are quick to hang it at the door when they enter the office house (still wearing scarves inside, though). Recently I have accompanied my colleague M., a university educated woman in her late thirties, on some visits in villages nearby who are benefiting from a development project by our organization and to some meetings with the local NGOs and UNAMA staff. Each time we left the office, M. took her chadari along, although she never put it on properly, but just left it hanging from the top of her head (placed over her usual scarf), with the front flap thrown over her head, leaving the face and frontal side of the body exposed. She was carrying it “just in case”. I asked her if it doesn’t get too hot in there, because I was sweating with just a light scarf. She said it gets very hot and she hates it. So, I asked, why does she wear it, now that security has improved in the region? She said it’s still not safe to be seen without it. Apparently, it is dangerous to be seen by acquaintances and neighbours, as they never know who has connections with the ultra-conservative rebel forces which still roam around, in one form or another.

This makes me think that they are not completely convinced that the Taliban are out for good, that the nightmare has passed and they can begin to return to the life some of them knew before. It seems they’re sticking to the harshest of rules, just in case the bad guys come back and start punishing the people who were quick to take their freedom back.

In future entries, I plan to expand on what urban Afghan society was before, comparing it to what it became under the Taliban.