Benjamin van der Spek Photography
The Afghans
No. 15 The Afghans
My brother’s driver in Quetta was a refugee. He had fled the war in neighbouring Afghanistan with his whole family. Because they learned I was about to return to Europe earlier than expected, his family invited us for dinner. How could I refuse such an honour?
It is incredibly humbling to be invited into the homes of people who have so little possessions but so much hospitality. We were greeted by the laughs of curious children in the small courtyard and shown around. Women were nowhere to be seen as they kept to their own spaces and were probably cooking our dinner, but the driver and his brothers were proud to show us how our naan bread was already in the oven. The oven was a heated ceramic pot, dug in the ground. I was told that it was heated by natural gas. Later, I found out the whole neighbourhood tapped their gas illegally and gas explosions were not unheard of.
The family had escaped war and persecution in their home country, Afghanistan, but still found discrimination in Pakistan. They were members of the Hazara, the third-largest ethnic group in Afghanistan. It is believed their ancestors were part of the Mongol armies led by Ghengis Khan. Now they were the most persecuted peoples of the region, especially targeted by the Taliban.
As we sat down on a beautiful carpet to enjoy the dinner the women of the family had prepared for us, conversation went from questions about Europe; “Is it true the rivers in Holland are really flowing with milk?” and “Are lands in Holland really filled with honey?” to stories of their homeland and their flight from the Taliban. “One day…” one of the men told us, “a Taliban patrol stopped the funeral procession we held for our deceased uncle. They demanded to inspect the contents of the coffin for weapons. There were no weapons of course. The coffin held only our uncle. But… they did notice that our uncle did not have a beard on his chin. This was a violation of the new sharia-law introduced by the occupying forces of the Taliban.” And thus the corpse was lifted from his coffin to receive the twenty strokes of the cane as the law demanded.
From these first hand experiences it became clear to me what the Taliban was about. Why did so little people back home care about what was happening here and in Afghanistan? It reminded me of a vile movement that rose to power in Europe in the 1930’s. People were too late to realise the terrible stain on humanity this horrible evil would bring. I hoped it would not be too late this time.
The Afghans
No. 15 The Afghans
My brother’s driver in Quetta was a refugee. He had fled the war in neighbouring Afghanistan with his whole family. Because they learned I was about to return to Europe earlier than expected, his family invited us for dinner. How could I refuse such an honour?
It is incredibly humbling to be invited into the homes of people who have so little possessions but so much hospitality. We were greeted by the laughs of curious children in the small courtyard and shown around. Women were nowhere to be seen as they kept to their own spaces and were probably cooking our dinner, but the driver and his brothers were proud to show us how our naan bread was already in the oven. The oven was a heated ceramic pot, dug in the ground. I was told that it was heated by natural gas. Later, I found out the whole neighbourhood tapped their gas illegally and gas explosions were not unheard of.
The family had escaped war and persecution in their home country, Afghanistan, but still found discrimination in Pakistan. They were members of the Hazara, the third-largest ethnic group in Afghanistan. It is believed their ancestors were part of the Mongol armies led by Ghengis Khan. Now they were the most persecuted peoples of the region, especially targeted by the Taliban.
As we sat down on a beautiful carpet to enjoy the dinner the women of the family had prepared for us, conversation went from questions about Europe; “Is it true the rivers in Holland are really flowing with milk?” and “Are lands in Holland really filled with honey?” to stories of their homeland and their flight from the Taliban. “One day…” one of the men told us, “a Taliban patrol stopped the funeral procession we held for our deceased uncle. They demanded to inspect the contents of the coffin for weapons. There were no weapons of course. The coffin held only our uncle. But… they did notice that our uncle did not have a beard on his chin. This was a violation of the new sharia-law introduced by the occupying forces of the Taliban.” And thus the corpse was lifted from his coffin to receive the twenty strokes of the cane as the law demanded.
From these first hand experiences it became clear to me what the Taliban was about. Why did so little people back home care about what was happening here and in Afghanistan? It reminded me of a vile movement that rose to power in Europe in the 1930’s. People were too late to realise the terrible stain on humanity this horrible evil would bring. I hoped it would not be too late this time.