By Ellaha Rasa
The colorful metal containers set the scene like a stage where four girls in bright clothes are deftly juggling three balls each. The audience watches their quick hands and focused eyes light up as they perform their new skills. The juggling ends and everyone breaks out into claps and cheers. The circus show is a moment of levity and relief, but under Taliban rule, these scenes are less and less common.
The Mobile Mini Circus Children (MMCC) in Herat province has been running for 19 years as a social project, mainly for children from disadvantaged backgrounds. Jalil Ahmad Nawruzi, the head of MMCC, says 60 percent of the students are children whose fathers have been killed in the war and whose families are living with severe economic problems.
“If these children were from rich families, they would go to private educational institutions, but their families are dealing with economic problems, and most of them do not have parents,” Mr Nawruzi said. “We provided them free education and they come to our center from the city and districts of Herat province.”
The MMCC ran programs for boys and girls up to the age of 18 with a focus on creative expression and artistic talents. But since the arrival of the Taliban in August 2021, they have been forced to shut down much of it.
Girls more than 12 years old are no longer allowed to participate and gender segregation has been enforced, according to Taliban orders. These restrictions have cut the number of female students from 300 to 120. The number of male students has also dropped to 160 as the value of artistic performance has been diminished by the bans on music and various forms of entertainment.
The syllabus of music, songwriting, gymnastics, and acrobatics has also been drastically reduced. “The Islamic Emirate forbid gymnastics and acrobatics for girls and we accepted,” Mr Nawruzi told Rukhshana Media. “For boys, we have acrobatics, gymnastics, and soccer programs, and for girls, we have a reduced sports program.”
The MMCC has pivoted to teaching girls a more traditional school syllabus. From 1:00pm to 4:00pm five days a week, the girls are taught Dari, Pashto, English, and Holy Quran for two hours and the last forty-five minutes are dedicated to more simple artistic programs like juggling and theatre.
Gymnastics, which encouraged strength, agility, flexibility, and balance, and any other acrobatic-style classes for girls have stopped.
Staring down the gauntlet of restrictions
Nine-year-old Morsal shows off her juggling skills with enthusiasm, throwing three balls into the air and deftly switching them between her two hands. She says she wants to one day perform in a circus or theatre.
Morsal’s father was a member of the Afghan National Security Forces under the government before the Taliban takeover. But at the end of last year, he was mysteriously murdered in Herat. “My father was shot from behind while he was on the way to Adraskan district,” Morsal says.
She lives with her mother, two sisters, and a brother in their uncle’s house. She says that since her father’s death, life has become more difficult than before, and due to financial struggles, she goes to sleep hungry most nights. But she holds on to the dream of taking the stage one day.
Zeenat, 10, has been a member of Herat Circus for three years. She tells Rukhshana Media that her father was killed four years ago and since then the responsibility of the family is on her brother’s shoulders. “They threw a grenade into our house and my father was killed,” she recounts. “After that, my brother is working and paying for the household expenses. We have nothing at home.”
Morsal and Zeenat’s story is shared by many of their MMCC peers, but it also the story of thousands of Afghan children impacted by war.
For 11-year-old Samia, the prospect of having to soon leave MMCC because of the age ban weighs heavily on her. She has been a member of Herat Circus for about five years. She says her father is unemployed and the family is struggling with severe economic problems. But her main concern is the closure of schools. “The Islamic Emirate should help us,” she says. “They should let children shed tears.”
With tears in her eyes, Samia says that since the Taliban took power, a number of her friends above the age of 12 were forced to stop coming to the circus and classes. “Older girls used to study here, but since the arrival of the Islamic Emirate, they left the circus in tears and only girls below 12 are allowed,” she says.
Mr Nawruzi says the school has urged the Taliban authorities to provide clarity on the rules they need to adhere to for girls above age 12 to attend the school, but the Taliban has not been forthcoming.
Adding to MMCC’s challenges, foreign aid dried up when the Taliban regained power. It became harder to pay for staff and fund the facilities needed for the classes.
Fearful of the future but embracing the present
It’s a midwinter day and the centre where the MMCC students are performing is freezing. But the girls seem unperturbed, captivated by the shows they’re watching. Once the juggling finishes, another group takes centre stage. They’re performing a play, acting out a scene of a family celebrating Father’s Day.
While in real life, most of these girls have no father, they tap into their imaginations and memories and play out the scenes of a family of five – a father, a mother, and three daughters. The daughters have bought their father a watch as a gift for Father’s Day and intend to surprise him with it.
Kawsar Babayi, 9, plays one of the daughters with great enthusiasm. After the show, she says she hopes to be able to participate in big theatres around the world.
One of the notable differences throughout the performance is there is no longer any accompanying music as there was in the past. The Taliban has prohibited any music, other than singing the Holy Quran.
“Before the Taliban came, music was played in the circus,” Kawsar says. “Music gives me a good feeling, but now that the music is not being played, I am very sad.”
Morsal, Zeenat, Samia, and Kawsar are living with the restrictions that have been forced on their young lives, and they’re aware it’s only a matter of time before they’re not even permitted to attend the MMCC classes. But today, they feel happy – they perform with childlike joy and they watch with delight as their peers take the stage. A high point in their otherwise deeply challenged lives.
