The Taliban are expected to announce a new government in Afghanistan on Friday, two weeks after the Islamist militia seized control of Kabul.
The militants have promised a softer brand of rule than the radical form of sharia law they enforced from 1996 until 2001 when they were ousted by U.S.-led forces but concern is growing for LGBT+ Afghans, some of whom are on the run fearing death.
Even before the Taliban takeover, LGBTQ+ people said it was too dangerous to live openly in Afghanistan.
But under the Taliban’s extreme interpretation of Islam, LGBTQ+ Afghans say they could be punished with death, especially if international attention fades.
One gay man, a former teacher whose name and age we are withholding for his own safety, has kept a diary for the Thomson Reuters Foundation from Kabul about his hopes and fears.
Here, he writes about his life, his boyfriend – and what sort of future he has in a country that could put him to death if its new rulers knew the truth about his sexuality.
August 25, 2021
At 11pm, I received an email from my one and only hope, an organisation that is trying to evacuate and resettle Afghan LGBT+ people to countries far away from the tyranny of Taliban. The email said that our case had been approved and that we could go to one of the several gates at the airport. I took my backpack and filled it with my essential documents and certificates and went to the north gate of Hamid Karzai International Airport (also known as Abbey Gate – the scene of an Islamic State suicide bombing the following evening).
The Taliban were everywhere, all holding guns. I took some pictures of them and how they looked at people, even those whose cases had been approved and who were carrying the correct documents.
If they had caught me taking their photograph, they could have shot me, and they really looked like they were ready to do it. I visited the other gates, but I couldn’t get through to the airport. But I couldn’t go back home because I didn’t want to lose the chance of getting on a flight, so I wandered around the airport perimeter all night long until, finally, I received another email.
August 26
By 3am, I was worn out. I was wandering around the streets, waiting in hope – but then I received an email asking us to go to a particular place where we could find a bus that would take us inside the airport. I stayed there for almost three hours, but no bus was booked for so early in the morning. I cannot explain how exhausted I was. All around me I could see women, girls, children sleeping on the streets. Since washrooms were unavailable, they had to pee near the places they slept, ate and stayed, while waiting for this bus to take them inside the airport. They way Taliban treat people is inferior to how one might treat a wild animal.
As I have not worked for three months, all my savings are spent and to buy food and water – and have enough left for bribes – I have sold my laptop.
I returned home utterly exhausted. Afterwards, I received a call from one of my foreign friends who told me that a bus for LGBT+ people was leaving for the airport. I reached the bus as soon as I could and after a lot of effort, I managed to get on. On entering the bus, I noticed the scared faces of the passengers, all of them LGBT+ people.
Our bus reached the main gate of Hamid Karzai International Airport and there we waited for seven hours. The stressed faces of the Afghan LGBT+ people on the bus were noticeable, so we shut the windows so that people could not force their way on to the bus. The heat inside was appalling, but everyone could only drink just drops of water. If they drank too much, then they would have to pee inside the bus where everyone could see them. No one wanted to take the risk to go 50 or 60 metres away from the bus because everyone knew it would not wait for anyone.
After waiting seven hours, we were told that there was a high likelihood of threats against the people waiting outside the airport. When I came back home, I had never felt so humiliated and devastated as ever before. I had lost all my hopes, all the dreams I had and all the future plans I worked hard for. It felt like everyone was carrying their funeral with themselves.
But I did receive a message from my beloved boyfriend. He said he was trying to get into airport alongside his family, as they had a special emigration visa. I have never felt lonelier in my entire life. He means the world to me and we never realised that this day would come and split us up. He is not only my partner but also my best friend. We fight a lot as a couple, but we are best friends. We have always considered our bond inseparable.
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