Since the fall of the Taliban in late 2001, Afghanistan has received billions of dollars in aid from Canada and other foreign governments. While assistance programs typically are billed as a means of winning the hearts and minds of the people by lifting them out of poverty, many have the unintended side effect of empowering women and introducing them to a lifestyle that would be unthinkable under the Taliban.
I know this to be true because I have witnessed it many times during my travels to Afghanistan.
Gul Jan — the wife of an Afghan farmer — is an example. I met her when I travelled to Northern Afghanistan to write about projects funded by the German government through GTZ, its international development agency. Before receiving assistance from the Germans, Jan would grow vegetables in her garden and dry them either on the roof of her house or under a tree, where they would collect dust and be eaten by insects. As a result, her vegetables would sell for a very low price at the market — assuming she was even able to get to the market.
Through her participation in a German program designed to empower female entrepreneurs, Jan was provided a solar dryer — a simple piece of technology that consists of little more than a table, a net, and a solar-powered heating tube. Using the drier, she is able to produce a nutritious commodity that sells for a fair price.
That was the intended consequence — to make women more economically independent and help increase their standard of living. Even small amounts of money can make a significant difference in one of the world's poorest countries.
The unintended consequence was even more powerful. After Jan started participating in the program, she began meeting other female participants. Together, they have created a mutually supportive culture of empowerment. While most Western women take their ability to work and socialize for granted, women in Afghanistan do not. For an overwhelming majority, being inside the home is where society and their husbands expect them to be. One local saying makes the point: “A woman should be at home or in the grave.”
Jan is now able to empower other women through her experience and her social connections. She now understands that women can think for themselves. They can feel a sense of purpose by getting out of the house and working. She understands that there is another way.
In Kunduz Province, close to the Taliban front line, there is a leather factory where disabled men and women work producing bags and other accessories. They work in separate rooms to conform to the cultural norms.
Every day, eight young women come to work in this factory. They sit or stand around a large table situated in a small room, where they work, chat and gossip. Some bring their children. All of them wear headscarves and each one has lost a leg, either from a rocket attack, or by stepping on a land mine. Should the Taliban ever return, women like these would be forced back behind locked doors.
Their work is quite impressive, especially considering they only had three months of training. Afghan leather is tough, closer to cardboard than the finely processed products we're used to. This workshop teaches them marketable skills that will improve their standard of living.
Pari — a short, unmarried women who wore purple nail polish — was at first very quiet and avoided answering the questions I had posed to the group. As the discussion rolled on, she began to come out of her shell. It turns out that she had lots of smart and insightful ideas. She said that being at home with nothing to do was boring. Working in the leather factory changed her life. She discussed how close the women had become and how much their newly formed relationships meant to each of them.
Lalimeh, another of the women, told me that she'd had eight prostheses over the many years since her leg was blown off in a rocket attack that destroyed her house when she was six. “Children called me names when I was young,” she said. “I prefer to be around people like myself.”
Creating such connections isn't the point of these projects, nor is it the typical measure used to evaluate them, but it sealed the deal for me. This is an example of how foreign aid can be used to enrich the lives of people who have known far too much heartache. It offers people hope and sometimes they have nothing else.
Changing Afghanistan's overall culture — in the ambitious way that was envisioned in the early days when NATO forces went into the country — is a difficult project. Daily life in Afghanistan continues to be a struggle. People are very poor, the security situation is deteriorating and there are few job opportunities. But for those Afghan men and women who have contact with foreign NGOs, at least, life is changing.
To the Canadians who continue to debate whether we should be in Afghanistan at all, I can report that the lives of many Afghans, women in particular, are being transformed thanks to Western efforts.