(Kabul) Three years after the return of a Taliban government, Afghanistan has a “zero growth” economy and its population is sinking into poverty with a worsening humanitarian crisis, with no hope of improvement in the near future.
In 2021, the new government inherited an established administration. Prices have fallen, the currency has held up, corruption is no longer at its peak and taxes are better collected.
Above all, security has returned, creating a climate conducive to business. After 40 years of war, goods and people now circulate safely from Kabul to Herat (west), from Mazar-e-Sharif (north) to Jalalabad (east).
But GDP contracted sharply by 26% in 2021 and 2022, according to the World Bank, for which “growth will be zero for the next three years and per capita income will fall under the demographic surge.”
Development aid has virtually ceased, as the government is not recognised by any country. Humanitarian aid has collapsed and a third of Afghanistan’s 45 million people survive on bread and tea, while unemployment is massive.
Mineral-rich Afghanistan also has great agricultural potential, but suffers from brain drain, lack of infrastructure, foreign expertise and funding.
“The crux of the matter is finding strategic partners,” Sulaiman Bin Shah, deputy commerce minister the morning the Taliban entered Kabul and now an investment adviser, told AFP.
Kabul has found some: “with Russia, China, Pakistan, Iran [et les républiques d’Asie centrale]”We cooperate a lot,” said Ahmad Zahid, Deputy Minister of Commerce and Industry.
The Mes Aynak project, the second largest copper deposit in the world, which has been stalled since 2008, has just been relaunched by Kabul and Beijing.
But to escape underdevelopment, “we must reopen the banking channels,” blocked by Western sanctions and the freezing of the Central Bank’s assets, says Mr. Bin Shah.
AFP asked Afghans in Kabul, Herat and Ghazni (centre) how they live today.
The Happy Entrepreneur
At 54, Azizullah Rehmati is a happy entrepreneur. His saffron factory is expected to double its production this year.
“Before we wanted to invest outside the country, but with security restored and exports made easier, we preferred to invest in Afghanistan,” he says.
Until 2021, his Red Gold Saffron Company had its saffron escorted by guards to Herat airport. “Now there is no problem,” says Mr Rehmati, who exports to 27 countries.
In her factory, women sort the red pistils of the precious spice with tweezers.
But only 50% of Afghan employers still employ women. Taliban restrictions on women’s employment and education are weighing on the economy.
“Money transfer is a real problem,” he adds, “we have to go through money changers in Dubai to get our funds into Afghanistan.”
And “if you don’t have a visa in time to go to international fairs, or if you don’t have a visa at all, you lose positions on the world market.”
The Idle Musician
Wahid Nekzai Logari was a member of the National Orchestra and gave concerts on the sarenda, a traditional string instrument, and the harmonium, as far away as India.
“I supported my whole family. We had a good life,” says the 46-year-old Afghan, in his modest home in a suburb of Kabul.
“With the establishment of the Islamic Emirate, music was banned. Now I am unemployed.”
To feed his family of seven, he occasionally drives a taxi.
He now earns only 5,000 afghanis a month (98 Canadian dollars), a fifth of what his concerts used to bring him.
“The Taliban searched my house, like all the houses in Kabul,” he says. “They saw my instruments. I told them I didn’t play them anymore and they didn’t break them.”
“Nobody told us: you don’t play music anymore, but we’ll find a way for you to feed your family,” he laments.
The hidden beautician
The order to close beauty salons last year had “broken her heart”, but Sayeda (not her real name) resettled elsewhere in Kabul four months ago.
“We found this place to rent,” says the 21-year-old manager, “on the condition that the clients come very discreetly and that some of our employees sleep here so that the neighbors think that a family lives there.”
“Before, we had 30 to 40 customers a day, now it’s six or seven,” says the woman who has nevertheless kept her 25 employees so that “each one has an income.”
The living room’s salaries were divided by three. Sayeda’s salary dropped from 25,000 afghanis to a range of 8,000 to 12,000.
“We are working in hiding and we don’t know for how much longer,” says Sayeda worriedly.
The police “discovered some salons [clandestins]they broke equipment, mistreated staff” and imposed fines.
The insurgent turned civil servant
For four years, Abdul Wali Shaheen wanted to “die a martyr” in the Taliban ranks. After the victory, he traded his rocket launcher for a computer at the Department of Information and Culture in Ghazni.
“I wasn’t as stressed as I am now,” the 31-year-old former mujahid admits. “I have more responsibilities towards the public.”
“We were just waging jihad, now it’s more difficult,” he says.
His salary of 10,000 afghanis is enough to feed his family of five.
“I give the Emirate a 10/10 for these three years,” he said, “everything is going well and we have hope for the future.”
He cites the return of security, “a great success”, and the expropriations of illegally occupied public land and buildings.
He does, however, admit to “gaps” which he hopes “will be filled.”
“Peace must continue,” he concluded.