By Ziba Balkhi
In the bustling streets of Mazar-e-Sharif, the capital of Afghanistan’s Balkh province, Zikrullah* navigates his taxi through the chaos of traffic, trying to provide for his family. As a driver, the 20-year-old faces not only the challenge of being the sole breadwinner of his family, but also the oppressive restrictions imposed by the Taliban, who have tightened their control over drivers who assist women, leading to increased violence and insult towards both groups.
At the core of the matter is a Taliban order that women wear all-covering hijabs and only travel with a male chaperone. Drivers like Zikrullah and Shakib*, another Mazar-e-Sharif taxi driver, find themselves caught between desperate passengers, the demands of making a living, and the ever-looming threat of Taliban checkpoints. For these men, the stakes are high – they’ve faced beatings, fines, and imprisonment for picking up women without the approved hijabs or male escorts.
On the other side of this struggle are women like sisters Malalai* and Najia*, who experience the Taliban’s restrictions firsthand as they travel each morning to teach schoolchildren in a private home. Despite wearing long black capes and face masks, they’ve been stopped and insulted by Taliban forces at checkpoints. Nazanin*, a 24-year-old psychologist, faces similar challenges; her poor eyesight requires glasses that fog up with a mask, making it difficult to find a taxi driver willing to pick her up.
These are the daily stories of ordinary Afghans struggling simply to get a taxi within a city under Taliban rule. Drivers like Saber*, a law and political science graduate, are willing to endure beatings and humiliation to support their families. For many, there is no choice except to continue navigating the at times brutal Taliban-imposed restrictions.
In Mazar-e-Sharif, the Taliban has established checkpoints throughout the city, monitoring and controlling the movement of women and girls. Last year, the Ministry of Propagation of Virtue and Prevention of Vice issued an instruction prohibiting women from traveling more than 72 kilometers without a male escort and have been explicitly warning taxi drivers from allowing women without all-covering hijabs to enter their vehicles.
Since then, violence and insults towards both women and drivers have increased. Taxi drivers have reported being beaten and fined for transporting women without hijabs or male chaperones. Women have been publicly humiliated, forcibly removed from vehicles, and had their documents confiscated. In one instance, a video circulated on social media showed an employee of the Virtue and Vice ministry slapping a taxi driver.
Nazanin, the psychologist, believes that the Taliban’s restrictions on women’s mobility are a pretext for controlling their public presence. “If the situation continues this way, a year later it will be surprising for people to see a woman without a mask or face-covering,” she says. “The Taliban want to make this the culture among all the people.”
The control down to such details can seem small from a distance but has great impact on individual lives.
“My eyesight is weak and I have to wear glasses. Without glasses, it is very difficult for me to see, but if I wear a mask or a cover, especially in this hot weather, my glasses sweat and I can’t see my way properly. But if don’t have a mask or face cover, none of the bus drivers at our station are willing for me to take their bus. Every time I go to a taxi, the first question the driver asks is, Do you have a mask sister? When I say that I have a problem and I can’t wear it, they say, ‘Sorry, sister. We can’t let you ride without a mask,” Nazanin says.
Despite the challenges and dangers faced by drivers like Zikrullah, Shakib, and Saber, they persevere in their work, knowing that their livelihoods and those of their passengers depend on it. In a country grappling with the oppressive rule of the Taliban, ordinary Afghans continue to fight for their basic rights and dignity.
A representative of one of the city bus stations in Mazar-e-Sharif, speaking on the condition of anonymity, confirmed to Rukhshana Media that Taliban officials have warned them not to pick up women not adhering to the strict dress code. They have also been instructed to avoid boarding women without a male chaperone. The source revealed that employees of the Virtue and Vice ministry have cautioned them that in case of disobedience, the responsibility will fall on the drivers and station representatives.
Zikrullah says he was recently stopped by Taliban forces for transporting a woman without a male escort. “It was in the morning. One of my passengers was a lady. There was a Taliban checkpoint in Noor Chawk where they stopped me. They told me to get out of the car. When I got out they asked me, Who is this woman? I said, I don’t know, her destination is Darwaz-e-Balkh. They asked me, Where is this woman’s mahram? I said, I don’t know, ask her yourself. As soon as I said that, they slapped me hard and said, ‘Don’t take a woman without a mahram anymore. If you do this again, you will not get rid of us easily next time.'”
Shakib, the 37-year-old driver, recalls a similar experience when he was transporting two girls to the city. At a checkpoint, Taliban forces insulted the girls and confiscated his car documents.
“They stopped my car and insulted the girls telling them to get out of the car and said, Aren’t you ashamed that you leave the house without your husband and a male chaperone? Be a little ashamed and more modest. And then they took the documents of my car and told me to come to the Virtue and Vice department the next day to get them.”
When he retrieved the documents the next day, he was warned that it would be the first and last time he picked up women without a mahram and without masks, and was threatened with three months jail and a fine if he did it again.
Najia, one of the sisters who teach schoolchildren, recounts a harrowing encounter at a checkpoint. “Both of us had long black capes, not a single strand of our hair could be seen, we also had black masks; But as soon as we arrived near the checkpoint, a Talib told us to get out of the car. We did not understand why. We were very scared and got out. The driver also got out of the car. When we were all out, in the middle of the street in the crowded city, they called us shameless and indecent.”
She says she has no idea what to wear if they did not even accept the complete coverage she had that day, including a face mask.
Zikrullah says many do not agree with the orders and they also need to earn a living for their families “We ride all day until evening to earn some amount of money. If we don’t let a woman without the prescribed hijab, and another woman without a mahram ride, what are we going to do? Women are never without the hijab. They regularly wear chapan or capes, masks and scarfs. We also have our own mothers and sisters. We do not look down on any woman. We do our work without looking at them.”
Saber laments the challenges faced by his family and others like them. “My only way to earn is this rickshaw. When I get a passenger, I don’t care if she has a mask or not, whether she has a male chaperone or not. If I say you can’t ride, she will go on foot and I will remain hungry. For this reason, I take the risk of being beaten and insulted and take the passenger on board.”
Saber also points out the expectation that women will always travel with a male chaperone is unrealistic. “For example, I am the only male in the family, what should I do if my wife or sister wants to go out but they don’t have a male mahram? I am forced not to work by myself and travel with them daily, because the Taliban do not allow women without a male chaperone.”
Note: The names of the interviewees have been changed to protect their identities.
