September elections in Afghanistan were expected to produce the country’s democratic transfer of power and a moral sign of social progress, however, it saw a record low turnout.&nbsp;

With a handful of women running for provincial seats, Afghanistan remains a hostile place for women with the Taliban controlling some parts of the country.

Thousands of Afghan women fled from their country to escape war and violence and discrimination and they landed up in India where New Delhi is a safe haven for more than 20000 registered Afghan refugee. Many of them wish to return to Afghanistan, but their hope is gloomy and uncertain.

Kamla Hirwi is one such refugee living with her husband and two children in New Delhi. She worked as a school teacher in Kabul but now she stays at home taking care of her children. Sitting in her living room, she watches Ashraf Ghani's political advertisement appealing for votes on TV. She is not happy with any of the leaders as they have mostly supported Taliban circuitously. 
 
Kamla says she is both hopeful and confused thinking about elections in Afghanistan. “We have seen the nastiest back home in Kabul where women are treated as a second class citizen of the country. Our communication and movements were restricted and we are almost confined in our own house. Many of us had to leave our jobs as we were not allowed to go out without a chaperone. Women are still routinely discriminated against, abused and persecuted in the country,” Kamla says as she remembers her early days in Afghanistan.

Kamala’s husband Hirwi has been working relentlessly for the last 6 years to bring together the Afghan men and women refugees who have come out of the conflict in Afghanistan. In one of these events of Afghan refugees, we met Zakia Ahmedi who is seeking asylum in India for the last two years. She explains that when the insurgents seized Kabul in 1996, they barred women from schools and work, forced them to wear the all-enveloping burqa when they left home, and even policed their shoes and makeup.

“My mother, grandmother could never go to school. If a woman was sick, she couldn’t even go to the hospital as she needs a male chaperone, but I want to live and be independent,” Zakia said.

While trying to meet as many refugee women possible, we reached Silaiwali, a place where Afghan women in Delhi are trying to escape horrors of their past by making unique dolls.

Taliban and other highly conservative insurgent groups still control some parts of Afghanistan, and violence and discrimination against women and girls continue all over Afghanistan. In 2011, it was named 'the most dangerous country' to be a woman.

37-year-old Gauhar tells that her husband was kidnapped by the Taliban. She suffered restrictions, violence and abuse every day in her city in Afghanistan, a hotbed of insurgency. “My husband worked as a driver in Kabul, he was kidnapped and killed by Taliban militants while travelling from Kabul to Bamyan.”

As the country prepares for a new presidential government, many wonder what kind of future lies ahead for young women like Gauhar and many others like her.

Throughout the changing political landscape of Afghanistan in the last fifty years, women's rights have been exploited by different groups for political gain, sometimes being improved but often being abused. There is a lot to be done before the equality of political rhetoric becomes an everyday reality for women in Afghanistan. There cannot be true peace and recovery in Afghanistan without a restoration of the rights of women.'

(Disclaimer: The opinions expressed above are the personal views of the author and do not reflect the views of ZMCL) &nbsp;

September elections in Afghanistan were expected to produce the country’s democratic transfer of power and a moral sign of social progress, however, it saw a record low turnout.

September elections in Afghanistan were expected to produce the country’s democratic transfer of power and a moral sign of social progress, however, it saw a record low turnout. With a handful of women running for provincial seats, Afghanistan remains a hostile place for women with the Taliban controlling some parts of the country. Thousands of Afghan women fled from their country to escape war and violence and discrimination and they landed up in India where New Delhi is a safe haven for more than 20000 registered Afghan refugee. Many of them wish to return to Afghanistan, but their hope is gloomy and uncertain. Kamla Hirwi is one such refugee living with her husband and two children in New Delhi. She worked as a school teacher in Kabul but now she stays at home taking care of her children. Sitting in her living room, she watches Ashraf Ghani's political advertisement appealing for votes on TV. She is not happy with any of the leaders as they have mostly supported Taliban circuitously. Kamla says she is both hopeful and confused thinking about elections in Afghanistan. “We have seen the nastiest back home in Kabul where women are treated as a second class citizen of the country. Our communication and movements were restricted and we are almost confined in our own house. Many of us had to leave our jobs as we were not allowed to go out without a chaperone. Women are still routinely discriminated against, abused and persecuted in the country,” Kamla says as she remembers her early days in Afghanistan. Kamala’s husband Hirwi has been working relentlessly for the last 6 years to bring together the Afghan men and women refugees who have come out of the conflict in Afghanistan. In one of these events of Afghan refugees, we met Zakia Ahmedi who is seeking asylum in India for the last two years. She explains that when the insurgents seized Kabul in 1996, they barred women from schools and work, forced them to wear the all-enveloping burqa when they left home, and even policed their shoes and makeup. “My mother, grandmother could never go to school. If a woman was sick, she couldn’t even go to the hospital as she needs a male chaperone, but I want to live and be independent,” Zakia said. While trying to meet as many refugee women possible, we reached Silaiwali, a place where Afghan women in Delhi are trying to escape horrors of their past by making unique dolls. Taliban and other highly conservative insurgent groups still control some parts of Afghanistan, and violence and discrimination against women and girls continue all over Afghanistan. In 2011, it was named 'the most dangerous country' to be a woman. 37-year-old Gauhar tells that her husband was kidnapped by the Taliban. She suffered restrictions, violence and abuse every day in her city in Afghanistan, a hotbed of insurgency. “My husband worked as a driver in Kabul, he was kidnapped and killed by Taliban militants while travelling from Kabul to Bamyan.” As the country prepares for a new presidential government, many wonder what kind of future lies ahead for young women like Gauhar and many others like her. Throughout the changing political landscape of Afghanistan in the last fifty years, women's rights have been exploited by different groups for political gain, sometimes being improved but often being abused. There is a lot to be done before the equality of political rhetoric becomes an everyday reality for women in Afghanistan. There cannot be true peace and recovery in Afghanistan without a restoration of the rights of women.' (Disclaimer: The opinions expressed above are the personal views of the author and do not reflect the views of ZMCL)

Blood and hope: Women in Afghanistan elections

Fleeing the violence in their war-torn country, more and more Afghan refugees are choosing to settle down in Turkey, including businessmen and entrepreneurs who have made significant investments in the economy, thanks in part to new incentives.

Afghan refugee entrepreneurs thrive in Turkey

A Hazara refugee who now calls the Australian outback home, Ali named his new venture the "Afghan Friendship Restaurant", a tribute to the warm welcome he says he received after moving to the town of Griffith five years ago.

The 44-year-old father of three is among a growing number of refugees and migrants to Australia who have opted to live in the bush rather than among the bright lights, hustle-bustle and astronomical prices of Sydney or Melbourne.

The word "friendship" hovers over Ali's head in bright red lettering while he cooks lamb skewers, his face a picture of concentration as the rich wafts of fragrant smoke lure in hungry customers.

It is the first-ever Afghan eatery in Griffith -- a six-hour drive west of Sydney -- and a far cry from the pie and chips staples of the Australian bush.

"I suggest to all of my friends, especially Afghan people, to come to Griffith, because here's very friendly," Ali, who asked that his surname not be used to protect family still in Afghanistan, tells AFP during a break from cooking.

"Also we can find a job as well, because the population is not too much."

A nation of immigrants, nearly half of Australia's 25-million-strong population was either born overseas or has at least one parent born abroad.

The country takes in around 14,000 refugees annually, with one-off exceptions to allow additional asylum-seekers, such as a recent scheme for 12,000 Syrians and Iraqis.

But harsh anti-asylum policies against boat arrivals and high-profile incidents of racism have given the country a reputation as inhospitable to non-white immigrants.

There's been a spike in anti-immigration sentiment, according to the Lowy Institute think tank, despite the overall intake of migrants -- capped annually at 190,000 -- remaining stable.

Lowy's annual poll found that for the first time this year, more than half the Australians surveyed said the number of migrants was "too high" -- up from 40 per cent in 2017.&nbsp;

The poll's authors said the shifting attitudes could reflect a lurch to the right, particularly as conservative politicians call for intake cuts amid urban pressures.

'Crying out for people'

Rapid demographic changes in Australian cities over the past decade have caused disquiet as residents grapple with congestion and high house prices.

Yet at the same time many regional towns are "crying out for more people", according to population and cities minister Alan Tudge.&nbsp;

His government is proposing that new arrivals live in smaller towns for a few years, in the hope they would make it their home.

Critics say the policy is not enforceable, and add that migrants would struggle to integrate into rural populations amid language and cultural differences.

But that is not what Jock Collins at the University of Technology Sydney, who is currently surveying 250 recently arrived families from Iraq, Syria and Afghanistan, has found.

Collins says many migrants have positive feedback to share after being settled in smaller towns.

In addition to job opportunities and a supportive environment -- "where the town goes out of its way to welcome refugees" -- the presence of other migrant communities can ease the transition, Collins says.

"A lot of regional and rural towns are losing populations and in particular, the young people are leaving... so immigration can help fill that gap."

Some immigrants also find it difficult to adjust to the busy rhythms of city life, making smaller towns an easier fit.

Incentives like extended family visas -- which the conservative government has been cutting back on in favour of younger working-age migrants -- could also attract and keep refugees in the bush.

Crocodile Ali

One success story is Mingoola, a small rural township in New South Wales, on the border with Queensland, that was slowly dying as its population aged.

Desperate for an injection of new blood, the town finally found a match with refugees from rural east Africa who were struggling in Sydney.

Similar praise has been heaped on Nhill, a town four hours' drive from Melbourne that's boomed since local poultry firm Luv-a-Duck found a Karen community, a minority group persecuted in Myanmar, willing to move there.

Eight years on, business is booming and the Karen now make up 10 per cent of Nhill's 2,000-strong population.

"From a position of decline, these towns are now thriving," says Jack Archer of the Regional Australia Institute, which is pushing for a national strategy instead of isolated efforts to match needy towns with job-seeking migrants.&nbsp;

Back in Griffith, refugee entrepreneurs are boosting local jobs. Ali's restaurant employs another refugee and a migrant from Malaysia, while his wife also helps with the cooking.

In more than one way, Ali is altering visitor flows between cities and rural towns.

One couple have travelled from Sydney three times to eat at the restaurant.

It's "for the soup", he says, "they like my soup and because of that they come here."

A Hazara refugee who now calls the Australian outback home, Ali named his new venture the "Afghan Friendship Restaurant", a tribute to the warm welcome he says he received after moving to the town of Griffith five years ago.

A Hazara refugee who now calls the Australian outback home, Ali named his new venture the "Afghan Friendship Restaurant", a tribute to the warm welcome he says he received after moving to the town of Griffith five years ago. The 44-year-old father of three is among a growing number of refugees and migrants to Australia who have opted to live in the bush rather than among the bright lights, hustle-bustle and astronomical prices of Sydney or Melbourne. The word "friendship" hovers over Ali's head in bright red lettering while he cooks lamb skewers, his face a picture of concentration as the rich wafts of fragrant smoke lure in hungry customers. It is the first-ever Afghan eatery in Griffith -- a six-hour drive west of Sydney -- and a far cry from the pie and chips staples of the Australian bush. "I suggest to all of my friends, especially Afghan people, to come to Griffith, because here's very friendly," Ali, who asked that his surname not be used to protect family still in Afghanistan, tells AFP during a break from cooking. "Also we can find a job as well, because the population is not too much." A nation of immigrants, nearly half of Australia's 25-million-strong population was either born overseas or has at least one parent born abroad. The country takes in around 14,000 refugees annually, with one-off exceptions to allow additional asylum-seekers, such as a recent scheme for 12,000 Syrians and Iraqis. But harsh anti-asylum policies against boat arrivals and high-profile incidents of racism have given the country a reputation as inhospitable to non-white immigrants. There's been a spike in anti-immigration sentiment, according to the Lowy Institute think tank, despite the overall intake of migrants -- capped annually at 190,000 -- remaining stable. Lowy's annual poll found that for the first time this year, more than half the Australians surveyed said the number of migrants was "too high" -- up from 40 per cent in 2017. The poll's authors said the shifting attitudes could reflect a lurch to the right, particularly as conservative politicians call for intake cuts amid urban pressures. 'Crying out for people' Rapid demographic changes in Australian cities over the past decade have caused disquiet as residents grapple with congestion and high house prices. Yet at the same time many regional towns are "crying out for more people", according to population and cities minister Alan Tudge. His government is proposing that new arrivals live in smaller towns for a few years, in the hope they would make it their home. Critics say the policy is not enforceable, and add that migrants would struggle to integrate into rural populations amid language and cultural differences. But that is not what Jock Collins at the University of Technology Sydney, who is currently surveying 250 recently arrived families from Iraq, Syria and Afghanistan, has found. Collins says many migrants have positive feedback to share after being settled in smaller towns. In addition to job opportunities and a supportive environment -- "where the town goes out of its way to welcome refugees" -- the presence of other migrant communities can ease the transition, Collins says. "A lot of regional and rural towns are losing populations and in particular, the young people are leaving... so immigration can help fill that gap." Some immigrants also find it difficult to adjust to the busy rhythms of city life, making smaller towns an easier fit. Incentives like extended family visas -- which the conservative government has been cutting back on in favour of younger working-age migrants -- could also attract and keep refugees in the bush. Crocodile Ali One success story is Mingoola, a small rural township in New South Wales, on the border with Queensland, that was slowly dying as its population aged. Desperate for an injection of new blood, the town finally found a match with refugees from rural east Africa who were struggling in Sydney. Similar praise has been heaped on Nhill, a town four hours' drive from Melbourne that's boomed since local poultry firm Luv-a-Duck found a Karen community, a minority group persecuted in Myanmar, willing to move there. Eight years on, business is booming and the Karen now make up 10 per cent of Nhill's 2,000-strong population. "From a position of decline, these towns are now thriving," says Jack Archer of the Regional Australia Institute, which is pushing for a national strategy instead of isolated efforts to match needy towns with job-seeking migrants. Back in Griffith, refugee entrepreneurs are boosting local jobs. Ali's restaurant employs another refugee and a migrant from Malaysia, while his wife also helps with the cooking. In more than one way, Ali is altering visitor flows between cities and rural towns. One couple have travelled from Sydney three times to eat at the restaurant. It's "for the soup", he says, "they like my soup and because of that they come here."

From Afghanistan to the Outback: Refugees ditch Australia's overcrowded cities

Sweden is set to deport a blind, 106-year-old Afghan refugee. 
 
Bibikhal Uzbek is believed to be the oldest asylum seeker of the world. 
 
In 2015, she along with her son and grand children, traveled through the mountainous paths from Kunduz via Iran and Turkey to seek refuge in Europe. 
 
Her application for asylum was denied by the Swedish migration agency and she is now instructed to return to Afghanistan.&nbsp; 
 
Uzbek is just two weeks short from turning 107. On hearing the news of application rejection, she had a stroke and is now bedridden--unable to see, speak or walk. 
 
The agency claims that the family&#39;s hometown, Kunduz is entirely safe for the family to return. 
 
Heavy clashes between Afghan security forces and the Taliban cause massive unrest in the area. 
 
The family claims that she is not in physically fit to travel back to Afghanistan. They have filed an appeal for her to stay in Sweden to live out the final period of her life.&nbsp; 
 
In the recent past, Sweden&#39;s Asylum Agency drew criticism for testing religious knowledge of converted Christian asylum seekers. 
 
In 2016, more than 4500 refugees withdrew applications and left the country, major factors being lengthy processes, rigorous rules, and difficulty in employment.

On hearing the news of application rejection, she had a stroke and is now bedridden--unable to see, speak or walk

Sweden is set to deport a blind, 106-year-old Afghan refugee. Bibikhal Uzbek is believed to be the oldest asylum seeker of the world. In 2015, she along with her son and grand children, traveled through the mountainous paths from Kunduz via Iran and Turkey to seek refuge in Europe. Her application for asylum was denied by the Swedish migration agency and she is now instructed to return to Afghanistan. Uzbek is just two weeks short from turning 107. On hearing the news of application rejection, she had a stroke and is now bedridden--unable to see, speak or walk. The agency claims that the family's hometown, Kunduz is entirely safe for the family to return. Heavy clashes between Afghan security forces and the Taliban cause massive unrest in the area. The family claims that she is not in physically fit to travel back to Afghanistan. They have filed an appeal for her to stay in Sweden to live out the final period of her life. In the recent past, Sweden's Asylum Agency drew criticism for testing religious knowledge of converted Christian asylum seekers. In 2016, more than 4500 refugees withdrew applications and left the country, major factors being lengthy processes, rigorous rules, and difficulty in employment.

Sweden to deport 106-year-old blind Afghan refugee

A group of men sit&nbsp;in a small hut made of clay and mud in one of the city&#39;s many informal refugee camps. The hut is pretty crowded, someone stares curiously at what is going on and others keep sewing typical Afghan clothes. Children tiptoe to steal a glimpse of the inside and quickly disappear&nbsp;when an elder spots them. It goes without saying that the camp has no running water and no sewage system. It is hot and flies are all over the place.

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<h5>We came here because your countries bombed our land</h5>
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&ldquo;We came here because your countries bombed our land,&rdquo; says the man that the small venue elected&nbsp;spokesperson. They all come from Helmand, the famous Taliban heartland in the south of Afghanistan. &ldquo;We live here since ten years,&rdquo; he says.&nbsp;Ten years. This is what often happens when you run away from war: You know when you leave, but you do not know when and if you will ever go back.

&ldquo;Of course we dream to go back to our land, but we also need security to do so,&rdquo; he says. Afghanistan is one of those places where war has never been short. US troops, sixteen years back, invaded the country, chasing the ghost of Al-Qaeda, and that very same war is still going on and disrupting lives.

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Afghanistan is one of those places where war has never been short (Others)
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One of the things war does is impose&nbsp;its violence on you. It doesn&rsquo;t matter if you were living your usual life, sowing&nbsp;seeds or grazing sheep. Violence does not ask your permission to destroy your life, it just does it. Suddenly, one day, while you are living your usual countryside life, some random armed group pops&nbsp;up and starts&nbsp;imposing its rules on you, and you accept it. You do so out of fear, out of a quick pro&nbsp;and con&nbsp;evaluation: &quot;I am a peaceful man, I want to mind my business, is refusing&nbsp;worth dying over?&quot; &nbsp;

It is easy for those who are not there&nbsp;to say&nbsp;&quot;revolt, fight back&quot;. Revolting against an armed power exercising its monopoly of violence on you, is one of those things which seems kind of easy when you are not the one doing it.

This is a war though, and it does not seek permission. You won&rsquo;t get away just abiding by someone&rsquo;s law, especially if that someone has enemies. One day&nbsp;your rulers&rsquo; enemy&nbsp;attacks. Jet fighters fly where you were used to seeing birds, and in&nbsp;seconds&nbsp;there is nothing left of your life except you. Your house, your fields, the small dusty roads of the village--all gone. There is nothing left, maybe some of your sheep, if you are lucky.&nbsp;

You look around, you visualise your small village in the countryside. Where pomegranates used to be as sweet as sugar, there are now piles of smoking rubbles. You try to make sense of the tragedy, you cry and you call to god, whatever god you believe in.&nbsp;No matter how hard you try, the reality is that war does not ask your permission to destroy your life. It just does it and it sucks.

Suddenly, you realise that along with other survivors you do not know what to do.

&quot;Maybe it is over. It was just a one-off attack,&quot;&nbsp;you speculate. You spend all the night with the elders&nbsp;discussing what to do, but there is no solution. Then, that armed group comes back at dawn and you realise all at once that what happened was not a one-off tragedy. The others, whoever they are, will bomb again in an endless cycle of destruction. It&rsquo;s done, war invaded your space, and it does not matter if you just wanted to keep looking after your sheep and your crop.

You do not get to decide.

Your conservation instinct often prevails: &ldquo;A&nbsp;wretched life is anyway better than a cruel death,&rdquo; you think. With these words in your mind, your private personal odyssey begins. You leave everything behind and you go.&nbsp;

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No hopes from the government (Others)
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Where do you go? You try to reach a city, the biggest city. &lsquo;&ldquo;The government will help us,&rdquo; you think. You have a few chances in front of you: You can try to reach a refugee camp and live in a tent. You can become a beggar on the street of a city, knocking at fancy cars&rsquo; windows for&nbsp;coins. You can also live in an informal refugee camp on the city&#39;s outskirts. You can also end up in the hands of organised crime; Criminal networks build their empires exploiting people like you. Whatever you do, the outcome is pretty much the same: Your wait begins, because you did not leave your house by&nbsp;choice.&nbsp;

It does not matter how good you are at adapting, the melancholy of your previous life will not abandon you. The desire to go back, one day, where the pomegranates were as sweet as sugar,&nbsp;will always accompany you.

&ldquo;Some of us sell pomegranates to make a living here, but these are small, not good,&rdquo; says the village council&rsquo;s spokesperson.

This is not one peson&#39;s particular&nbsp;story,&nbsp;but the story of millions of people at the same time. According to the most recent UN survey, 65.5 million people are currently displaced worldwide. It is a record in human history, but nothing we should be proud of; 25.5 million of them are refugees, 40.3 million are internally displaced people and 2.8 million are asylum seekers.&nbsp;

In Afghanistan, in the first five and a half months of 2017, as many as 136,000 people have been displaced and 2,200 civilians got killed or injured during the ongoing conflict. Year by year, it is not getting any better. &ldquo;In 2010 in this hospital we were able to do also civilian traumas below fourteen. Now it is not an option anymore,&rdquo; says Giorgia Novello, medical coordinator for the Emergency hospital in Kabul. &ldquo;In all our projects, the number of war wounded has increased.&rdquo;

The men in the hut kept discussing politics and society&rsquo;s problem. They sit in a circle, exactly as they would have done in their villages if only the war would not have forced them to leave.

65.5 million people are currently displaced from their home worldwide, a record in human history

A group of men sit in a small hut made of clay and mud in one of the city's many informal refugee camps. The hut is pretty crowded, someone stares curiously at what is going on and others keep sewing typical Afghan clothes. Children tiptoe to steal a glimpse of the inside and quickly disappear when an elder spots them. It goes without saying that the camp has no running water and no sewage system. It is hot and flies are all over the place. We came here because your countries bombed our land × “We came here because your countries bombed our land,” says the man that the small venue elected spokesperson. They all come from Helmand, the famous Taliban heartland in the south of Afghanistan. “We live here since ten years,” he says. Ten years. This is what often happens when you run away from war: You know when you leave, but you do not know when and if you will ever go back. “Of course we dream to go back to our land, but we also need security to do so,” he says. Afghanistan is one of those places where war has never been short. US troops, sixteen years back, invaded the country, chasing the ghost of Al-Qaeda, and that very same war is still going on and disrupting lives. Afghanistan is one of those places where war has never been short (Others) × One of the things war does is impose its violence on you. It doesn’t matter if you were living your usual life, sowing seeds or grazing sheep. Violence does not ask your permission to destroy your life, it just does it. Suddenly, one day, while you are living your usual countryside life, some random armed group pops up and starts imposing its rules on you, and you accept it. You do so out of fear, out of a quick pro and con evaluation: "I am a peaceful man, I want to mind my business, is refusing worth dying over?" It is easy for those who are not there to say "revolt, fight back". Revolting against an armed power exercising its monopoly of violence on you, is one of those things which seems kind of easy when you are not the one doing it. This is a war though, and it does not seek permission. You won’t get away just abiding by someone’s law, especially if that someone has enemies. One day your rulers’ enemy attacks. Jet fighters fly where you were used to seeing birds, and in seconds there is nothing left of your life except you. Your house, your fields, the small dusty roads of the village--all gone. There is nothing left, maybe some of your sheep, if you are lucky. You look around, you visualise your small village in the countryside. Where pomegranates used to be as sweet as sugar, there are now piles of smoking rubbles. You try to make sense of the tragedy, you cry and you call to god, whatever god you believe in. No matter how hard you try, the reality is that war does not ask your permission to destroy your life. It just does it and it sucks. Suddenly, you realise that along with other survivors you do not know what to do. "Maybe it is over. It was just a one-off attack," you speculate. You spend all the night with the elders discussing what to do, but there is no solution. Then, that armed group comes back at dawn and you realise all at once that what happened was not a one-off tragedy. The others, whoever they are, will bomb again in an endless cycle of destruction. It’s done, war invaded your space, and it does not matter if you just wanted to keep looking after your sheep and your crop. You do not get to decide. Your conservation instinct often prevails: “A wretched life is anyway better than a cruel death,” you think. With these words in your mind, your private personal odyssey begins. You leave everything behind and you go. No hopes from the government (Others) × Where do you go? You try to reach a city, the biggest city. ‘“The government will help us,” you think. You have a few chances in front of you: You can try to reach a refugee camp and live in a tent. You can become a beggar on the street of a city, knocking at fancy cars’ windows for coins. You can also live in an informal refugee camp on the city's outskirts. You can also end up in the hands of organised crime; Criminal networks build their empires exploiting people like you. Whatever you do, the outcome is pretty much the same: Your wait begins, because you did not leave your house by choice. It does not matter how good you are at adapting, the melancholy of your previous life will not abandon you. The desire to go back, one day, where the pomegranates were as sweet as sugar, will always accompany you. “Some of us sell pomegranates to make a living here, but these are small, not good,” says the village council’s spokesperson. This is not one peson's particular story, but the story of millions of people at the same time. According to the most recent UN survey, 65.5 million people are currently displaced worldwide. It is a record in human history, but nothing we should be proud of; 25.5 million of them are refugees, 40.3 million are internally displaced people and 2.8 million are asylum seekers. In Afghanistan, in the first five and a half months of 2017, as many as 136,000 people have been displaced and 2,200 civilians got killed or injured during the ongoing conflict. Year by year, it is not getting any better. “In 2010 in this hospital we were able to do also civilian traumas below fourteen. Now it is not an option anymore,” says Giorgia Novello, medical coordinator for the Emergency hospital in Kabul. “In all our projects, the number of war wounded has increased.” The men in the hut kept discussing politics and society’s problem. They sit in a circle, exactly as they would have done in their villages if only the war would not have forced them to leave.

All refugees desire to go back home, one day

Afrooz* lives in a compact 1-BHK (bedroom, kitchen, hall) apartment in one of south Delhi&#39;s sprawling urban villages, Khirkee Extension. She shares the space with nine other family&nbsp;members. Something permeates the air in the living room &mdash; rotting yogurt and fermented rice. She offers&nbsp;me naan (Afghani flatbread) and Qorma &mdash; especially made for me. Ten others sit for the meal with me, but we eat in silence. A palpable sadness floats around us.

In 1994, when Afrooz was born in Kabul, Afghanistan, her middle class family could not afford luxuries, but they had a good life. Her family could afford a good education for the children, owned a decent house, two cars and had a regular income.

What could go wrong? Probably nothing. But everything did.

&quot;War and unrest dawned upon our lives. I could hear continuous gunfire echoes from outside the house. My classmate was shot in a market during the daytime. Another friend was kidnapped and never seen again. Terror was in the air but I only felt numb.&nbsp;I had no clue why it was happening. I had started getting accustomed to the&nbsp;smell of gunpowder and the sight of blood.&nbsp;One day, dacoits entered our house. In my heart, I knew this was the end of us. My mother shushed us. The women hid in cupboards and under the beds. It turned out they weren&rsquo;t dacoits, but they came with a warning. &#39;Leave before they come for you&#39; they said. I knew it was the Taliban. The question in my mind was &mdash; why us? We have never hurt anyone.&quot;

Afrooz&#39;s faith it turned out disqualified her from claiming the land of her birth and that of her forefathers her homeland. Her family are followers of the Bahai religion &mdash; considered unfit for the Islamic state.

&quot;I loved my country, my hometown, my house, my room. I miss everything I left behind. But we were lucky enough to get a new start in India unlike the thousands still stuck in the terrors of the war. There was hope for a better, brighter future. We had heard stories about the greatness of India &mdash; a&nbsp;generous land that embraces many cultures.&quot;

Afrooz and 10 members of her family made their way into India in batches, entering the country on medical, and tourist visas. India allows people to migrate without prior permissions if their lives are in danger.

From 15,917 Afghan refugees residing in India in 1998 to the 10,340 currently in India, Afghans fleeing war and persecution have found themselves safe and welcome here.

&quot;India abides by Article 31 of the Refugee Convention&nbsp;which permits the treatment of refugees. It exempts them from penalties for illegal entry&nbsp;when they come directly from a territory where their life or freedom was threatened.&nbsp;However, there is no law concerning refugees in the country. Their status is governed by guidelines stated under Foreigners Act, 1946 and the Registration of Foreigners Act, 1939.&nbsp;Although India is not a signatory to the United Nations Convention on the Status of Refugees and 1967 Protocol, it has followed a very liberal refugee policy which adheres to the underlying principles of international refugee law,&quot; lawyer Yateesh Begoore Shivaswamy, told WION.

&nbsp;

Stay in India: In safety, but without jobs&nbsp;

Afrooz has been in India for five years now. &quot;People are extremely warm and helpful. However, our problems are countless. Indian government does not have laws for refugees. We are at the mercy of the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR). A refugee card issued by the organisation is our only identity proof. False promises (by UNHCR) of education, employment, income, health-care facilities were made to be broken. We are not eligible to even buy a sim card, forget about a bank account. My father is the only bread-earner of the family &mdash; he works in a bakery for Rupees 8000 a month. He has to support a nine-member family. The demonetisation period was tortuous. We are financially dependent on my uncle who sends money from Germany to supplement our family income. What if he decides to stop some day? What will we do then?&quot;

&nbsp;

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Refugee Card issues by UNHCR is valid for two years. It is not useful to get a SIM card or bank account (WION)
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As refugees, they are not eligible for formal education or employment unless they have a long-term visa.

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&quot;Promises were made but never fulfilled. Some Afghanis who have been in India for two years still don&rsquo;t have refugee cards. They promise us unskilled jobs. UNHCR pays beauty parlours to train us, but we never get jobs.&quot;

As time passed things kept getting worse instead of improving.

&quot;My sister was called in for an interview in Dilshad Garden (a neighbourhood in east Delhi) set up by the UNHCR. When she reached the venue, a strange man with possibly bad intentions waited for her in a dark room with strange lighting and music. She had to run. Saying that we live a poor, below dignity life is&nbsp;an understatement. I am a citizen... of this planet. I hate being called a refugee. I hate not having a home,&quot; she said, her eyes welling up.

India is on the verge of&nbsp;granting citizenship to Hindus and Sikhs from Afghanistan who have sought refuge from religious persecution.&nbsp;

&quot;They are granting citizenship to persecuted Hindus. We as Muslims do not feel very welcomed. The Indian government doesn&#39;t take care of us.&quot; said Aman Zaidi, 30, who fled Afghanistan in hope of a better future for his sons. He has taught himself the languages spoken locally (Hindi and English) and now works as an interpreter for Afghan medical tourists at hospitals.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Chaos, hope, fresh starts

In spite of the ongoing social and political mayhem, the community has been able to make space for itself. The refugees that landed in India earlier watch out for the new arrivals. Afrooz&#39;s father got a house and job through another Sikh refugee from Afghanistan.

In a back alley of Lajpat Nagar, a sprawling market area in south Delhi, is Afghan Market or Kabul street. Shop boards in Dari transcript, modest looking restaurants with fancy interiors, separate seating areas for men and women, playlists of Hindi, English and Pashto songs, general stores with supplies from United Arab Emirates (UAE), scent of Kabuli pulao - the place is a safe haven for Afghan refugees.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

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Shops in Lajpat Nagar&#39;s Afghan market have signboards in English and Dari language (WION)
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&nbsp;

Naseem manages a street-vend of Afghani snacks. He offered me to try Bolani Gandana (a stuffed, deep fried bread). A tentative attempt to initiate a conversation revealed that Naseem was a rather garrulous man who had landed in India just a month ago. &quot;I have a friend who has taken refuge here. He runs a restaurant&nbsp;and is helping me financially. The situation in Afghanistan is horrible. Here&nbsp;I am able to earn twice the amount I used to earlier working as a cook. I plan to bring my entire family over.&quot;&nbsp; 
&quot;I love India. I have been a fan of Bollywood movies,&quot; he explained his ease in Hindi by telling this reporter about his love for Hindi films and actor Ajay Devgan.&nbsp;

Naseem then insisted that I visit his friend&#39;s restaurant and have lunch there &mdash; typical of the largesse of his people.

&nbsp;

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Naseem makes a decent living through a street-stall of Afghani snacks. He wants to bring his family to India soon (WION)
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&nbsp;

Twenty-year-old Ahmed arrived in India recently. His employer warned him to be careful with strangers. The shy young&nbsp;man took a while to open up.&nbsp;&quot;I don&#39;t have a refugee card,&quot; he said&nbsp;while cooking bread in the clay oven of a small eatery.

He hopes to start a new life here. &quot;I come from Mazar-e-Sharif. A guy helped me escape. My family is still there. We all couldn&#39;t afford to come, so they sent me. I would want to see them again, but I don&#39;t want to go back to Afghanistan. It is terrifying to even think about it. I hope I can do enough to call them here,&quot; he smiled.&nbsp;

Young or old, there is one common strain in all conversations &mdash; the luxury of a sound night&#39;s sleep without the fear of mortars and bombs tearing into homes.

&quot;My hometown was beautiful.&nbsp;I have grown up admiring the natural &nbsp;beauty around me. But things got out of control there. You can die any moment. Delhi&nbsp;is very crowded and they blare horns too loudly. But at least I can sleep without worrying at night. In other countries, they start firing on refugee boats. India has given us a home to live. We might not be citizens, but this is now our home,&quot;&nbsp;60-year old Hameed told WION.

Others headed back to India because it was their natural home. When the Sikh community found itself under attack by the Taliban, many of them made a long and arduous journey to the land of their forefather.&nbsp;Harmeet Chhabra, now a&nbsp;naturalised Indian citizen, came to India 24 years ago. &quot;Our shop in Kabul was looted. We travelled on foot for 10 days in a group of 50. Our shop was raided and several friends and their families were killed. We did not know anyone in India. Initially, we took refuge in the Golden Temple in &nbsp;Amritsar. It has been a long journey.&quot; Today, Chhabra runs a chemist store in Delhi.

Today the community finds shelter for some and homes for others in Delhi neighbourhooda like Lajpat Nagar, Bhogal,&nbsp;Saket, Tilak Nagar and Wazirabad. Wazirabad is where most Hindu and&nbsp;Sikh Afghans have settled down, driven from their homeland in 1991 by the Afghan Mujahideen during the rule of Mohammad Najibullah which were the early days of the Taliban.

&nbsp;

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From a place away from home, the Afghan refugees use their culinary skills to build new lives for themselves (WION)
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&nbsp;

What the law says

In terms of international obligations, as a consequence of its accession to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, the Government of India has some obligations towards the economic status of refugees. The Covenant guarantees everyone&rsquo;s &ndash; including refugees&rsquo; &ndash; right to work. However, it may be noted that the Covenant provides a caveat wherein &ldquo;developing countries, with due regard to human rights and their national economy, may determine to what extent they would guarantee the economic rights&quot;.

&quot;Refugees who fled their home country in fear of genuine threats are eligible for Long Term Visa (LTV). A refugee holding a long term visa is permitted to take up employment in the private sector or undertake studies in any academic institution.&quot; Shivaswamy added.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

Equal status for all refugees?

The feasibility of legislation, however, remains a political question and whether Parliament would see fit to enact such legislation is hard to surmise. The &lsquo;Asylum Bill 2015&rsquo; introduced in the Lok Sabha by MP Shashi Tharoor proposes fair treatment and just manner consistent with the guarantees of equality, fairness and due process of law for all refugees.

The procedure of determining who qualifies as a refugee is unsure. While the government decides refugee status for fugitives from regions like Sri Lanka and Tibet, refugees from other regions need to approach UNHCR office. This has given rise to an inconsistent approach towards different nationalities, and an asylum policy that, on the whole, lacks uniformity.

The community also claims discrimination and partiality when it comes to issuing refugee cards among refugees of different nationalities.

&quot;All refugees are not treated equally by the UNHCR. It is way easier for other communities to get basic documentation,&quot; Afrooz&#39;s brother, Faraz said.

Clearly, there are loopholes in the system to implement policies in the&nbsp;interest of refugees.

*Some names have been changed to protect identity

(WION)

India provides a safe haven to Afghans escaping war in their country, but this New Year they dream of work, study opportunity

Afrooz* lives in a compact 1-BHK (bedroom, kitchen, hall) apartment in one of south Delhi's sprawling urban villages, Khirkee Extension. She shares the space with nine other family members. Something permeates the air in the living room — rotting yogurt and fermented rice. She offers me naan (Afghani flatbread) and Qorma — especially made for me. Ten others sit for the meal with me, but we eat in silence. A palpable sadness floats around us. In 1994, when Afrooz was born in Kabul, Afghanistan, her middle class family could not afford luxuries, but they had a good life. Her family could afford a good education for the children, owned a decent house, two cars and had a regular income. What could go wrong? Probably nothing. But everything did. "War and unrest dawned upon our lives. I could hear continuous gunfire echoes from outside the house. My classmate was shot in a market during the daytime. Another friend was kidnapped and never seen again. Terror was in the air but I only felt numb. I had no clue why it was happening. I had started getting accustomed to the smell of gunpowder and the sight of blood. One day, dacoits entered our house. In my heart, I knew this was the end of us. My mother shushed us. The women hid in cupboards and under the beds. It turned out they weren’t dacoits, but they came with a warning. 'Leave before they come for you' they said. I knew it was the Taliban. The question in my mind was — why us? We have never hurt anyone." Afrooz's faith it turned out disqualified her from claiming the land of her birth and that of her forefathers her homeland. Her family are followers of the Bahai religion — considered unfit for the Islamic state. "I loved my country, my hometown, my house, my room. I miss everything I left behind. But we were lucky enough to get a new start in India unlike the thousands still stuck in the terrors of the war. There was hope for a better, brighter future. We had heard stories about the greatness of India — a generous land that embraces many cultures." Afrooz and 10 members of her family made their way into India in batches, entering the country on medical, and tourist visas. India allows people to migrate without prior permissions if their lives are in danger. From 15,917 Afghan refugees residing in India in 1998 to the 10,340 currently in India, Afghans fleeing war and persecution have found themselves safe and welcome here. "India abides by Article 31 of the Refugee Convention which permits the treatment of refugees. It exempts them from penalties for illegal entry when they come directly from a territory where their life or freedom was threatened. However, there is no law concerning refugees in the country. Their status is governed by guidelines stated under Foreigners Act, 1946 and the Registration of Foreigners Act, 1939. Although India is not a signatory to the United Nations Convention on the Status of Refugees and 1967 Protocol, it has followed a very liberal refugee policy which adheres to the underlying principles of international refugee law," lawyer Yateesh Begoore Shivaswamy, told WION. Stay in India: In safety, but without jobs Afrooz has been in India for five years now. "People are extremely warm and helpful. However, our problems are countless. Indian government does not have laws for refugees. We are at the mercy of the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR). A refugee card issued by the organisation is our only identity proof. False promises (by UNHCR) of education, employment, income, health-care facilities were made to be broken. We are not eligible to even buy a sim card, forget about a bank account. My father is the only bread-earner of the family — he works in a bakery for Rupees 8000 a month. He has to support a nine-member family. The demonetisation period was tortuous. We are financially dependent on my uncle who sends money from Germany to supplement our family income. What if he decides to stop some day? What will we do then?" Refugee Card issues by UNHCR is valid for two years. It is not useful to get a SIM card or bank account (WION) × As refugees, they are not eligible for formal education or employment unless they have a long-term visa. "Promises were made but never fulfilled. Some Afghanis who have been in India for two years still don’t have refugee cards. They promise us unskilled jobs. UNHCR pays beauty parlours to train us, but we never get jobs." As time passed things kept getting worse instead of improving. "My sister was called in for an interview in Dilshad Garden (a neighbourhood in east Delhi) set up by the UNHCR. When she reached the venue, a strange man with possibly bad intentions waited for her in a dark room with strange lighting and music. She had to run. Saying that we live a poor, below dignity life is an understatement. I am a citizen... of this planet. I hate being called a refugee. I hate not having a home," she said, her eyes welling up. India is on the verge of granting citizenship to Hindus and Sikhs from Afghanistan who have sought refuge from religious persecution. "They are granting citizenship to persecuted Hindus. We as Muslims do not feel very welcomed. The Indian government doesn't take care of us." said Aman Zaidi, 30, who fled Afghanistan in hope of a better future for his sons. He has taught himself the languages spoken locally (Hindi and English) and now works as an interpreter for Afghan medical tourists at hospitals. Chaos, hope, fresh starts In spite of the ongoing social and political mayhem, the community has been able to make space for itself. The refugees that landed in India earlier watch out for the new arrivals. Afrooz's father got a house and job through another Sikh refugee from Afghanistan. In a back alley of Lajpat Nagar, a sprawling market area in south Delhi, is Afghan Market or Kabul street. Shop boards in Dari transcript, modest looking restaurants with fancy interiors, separate seating areas for men and women, playlists of Hindi, English and Pashto songs, general stores with supplies from United Arab Emirates (UAE), scent of Kabuli pulao - the place is a safe haven for Afghan refugees. Shops in Lajpat Nagar's Afghan market have signboards in English and Dari language (WION) × Naseem manages a street-vend of Afghani snacks. He offered me to try Bolani Gandana (a stuffed, deep fried bread). A tentative attempt to initiate a conversation revealed that Naseem was a rather garrulous man who had landed in India just a month ago. "I have a friend who has taken refuge here. He runs a restaurant and is helping me financially. The situation in Afghanistan is horrible. Here I am able to earn twice the amount I used to earlier working as a cook. I plan to bring my entire family over." "I love India. I have been a fan of Bollywood movies," he explained his ease in Hindi by telling this reporter about his love for Hindi films and actor Ajay Devgan. Naseem then insisted that I visit his friend's restaurant and have lunch there — typical of the largesse of his people. Naseem makes a decent living through a street-stall of Afghani snacks. He wants to bring his family to India soon (WION) × Twenty-year-old Ahmed arrived in India recently. His employer warned him to be careful with strangers. The shy young man took a while to open up. "I don't have a refugee card," he said while cooking bread in the clay oven of a small eatery. He hopes to start a new life here. "I come from Mazar-e-Sharif. A guy helped me escape. My family is still there. We all couldn't afford to come, so they sent me. I would want to see them again, but I don't want to go back to Afghanistan. It is terrifying to even think about it. I hope I can do enough to call them here," he smiled. Young or old, there is one common strain in all conversations — the luxury of a sound night's sleep without the fear of mortars and bombs tearing into homes. "My hometown was beautiful. I have grown up admiring the natural beauty around me. But things got out of control there. You can die any moment. Delhi is very crowded and they blare horns too loudly. But at least I can sleep without worrying at night. In other countries, they start firing on refugee boats. India has given us a home to live. We might not be citizens, but this is now our home," 60-year old Hameed told WION. Others headed back to India because it was their natural home. When the Sikh community found itself under attack by the Taliban, many of them made a long and arduous journey to the land of their forefather. Harmeet Chhabra, now a naturalised Indian citizen, came to India 24 years ago. "Our shop in Kabul was looted. We travelled on foot for 10 days in a group of 50. Our shop was raided and several friends and their families were killed. We did not know anyone in India. Initially, we took refuge in the Golden Temple in Amritsar. It has been a long journey." Today, Chhabra runs a chemist store in Delhi. Today the community finds shelter for some and homes for others in Delhi neighbourhooda like Lajpat Nagar, Bhogal, Saket, Tilak Nagar and Wazirabad. Wazirabad is where most Hindu and Sikh Afghans have settled down, driven from their homeland in 1991 by the Afghan Mujahideen during the rule of Mohammad Najibullah which were the early days of the Taliban. From a place away from home, the Afghan refugees use their culinary skills to build new lives for themselves (WION) × What the law says In terms of international obligations, as a consequence of its accession to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, the Government of India has some obligations towards the economic status of refugees. The Covenant guarantees everyone’s – including refugees’ – right to work. However, it may be noted that the Covenant provides a caveat wherein “developing countries, with due regard to human rights and their national economy, may determine to what extent they would guarantee the economic rights". "Refugees who fled their home country in fear of genuine threats are eligible for Long Term Visa (LTV). A refugee holding a long term visa is permitted to take up employment in the private sector or undertake studies in any academic institution." Shivaswamy added. Equal status for all refugees? The feasibility of legislation, however, remains a political question and whether Parliament would see fit to enact such legislation is hard to surmise. The ‘Asylum Bill 2015’ introduced in the Lok Sabha by MP Shashi Tharoor proposes fair treatment and just manner consistent with the guarantees of equality, fairness and due process of law for all refugees. The procedure of determining who qualifies as a refugee is unsure. While the government decides refugee status for fugitives from regions like Sri Lanka and Tibet, refugees from other regions need to approach UNHCR office. This has given rise to an inconsistent approach towards different nationalities, and an asylum policy that, on the whole, lacks uniformity. The community also claims discrimination and partiality when it comes to issuing refugee cards among refugees of different nationalities. "All refugees are not treated equally by the UNHCR. It is way easier for other communities to get basic documentation," Afrooz's brother, Faraz said. Clearly, there are loopholes in the system to implement policies in the interest of refugees. *Some names have been changed to protect identity (WION)

A sound night's sleep: Afghans hope for equal refugee benefits in India

Almost 40 years after seeking sanctuary in Pakistan, Nusheen Bibi lives in fear of being expelled from the only country she has ever known.

Bibi was only three when her family fled the 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan - some of more than 6 million Afghan refugees who crossed into neighbouring Pakistan and Iran.&nbsp;

They soon made a new life in northern Pakistan where Bibi grew up, got married and eventually gave birth.

But growing animosity towards Afghan refugees combined with a push from the Pakistani government to repatriate thousands of Afghans has left the 40-year-old feeling vulnerable.

Under Pakistan&#39;s laws, a foreign woman can acquire Pakistani citizenship by marrying a local man, but Bibi has never done the paperwork to change her nationality.

&quot;I can&#39;t even think about leaving Pakistan,&quot; the mother of five told the Thomson Reuters Foundation in her home, a small mud house.

&quot;How can I leave my children, husband and entire family of in-laws?&quot; said Bibi, who asked that her real name not be used.

Pakistan has some 1.5 million registered refugees, one of the largest such populations in the world, according to the UN&nbsp;refugee agency (UNHCR). More than a million others are estimated to live there unregistered.

Although repatriation is not compulsory, Islamabad has stepped up pressure to send people back and numbers have risen sharply in recent months as Afghan-Indian relations strengthened and those between India and Pakistan soured.

UNHCR said 67,057 refugees were permanently repatriated in August, up from 12,962 the month before.

In all, more than 380,000 registered Afghan refugees have returned home in 2016 so far, with more than 1.4 million still remaining in Pakistan, UNHCR said.

&quot;Still foreigners&quot;

In September, Pakistan extended Afghan refugees&#39;&nbsp;right to stay until March 2017, but restrictions and harassment have increased, refugees and the UNHCR say.&nbsp;

Many Afghans complain of discrimination when considered for jobs and university places.&nbsp;

Pakistani officials deny there has been systematic harassment of Afghans living in Pakistan and say their country has demonstrated great generosity to the refugee population, despite severe economic problems of its own.

Like Bibi, Dilshad Begum is also facing the threat of separation from her spouse.&nbsp;

Begum was born in Mardan, a district of Pakistan&#39;s northwestern province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. In 2003, she married an Afghan man whose family migrated across the border.

But unlike foreign women, foreign men cannot acquire Pakistani citizenship through marriage.

The couple grew increasingly concerned about their future following brief clashes between Pakistani and Afghan security forces at the Torkham border crossing in June.

&quot;My husband sold his property in Afghanistan to establish his business in Pakistan,&quot; Begum said.

&quot;However, the government is now asking him to close down his business, withdraw all the money from his bank and move back to Afghanistan.&quot;

Sana, whose Afghan father moved to Pakistan at the age of eight, has tried but failed to gain a place at the University of Peshawar.

&quot;I finished college in Peshawar, where I was born. But the management tells me the quota for Afghan students is full already, so I can&#39;t get in,&quot; she said.

&quot;It is extremely disturbing for me to learn that after all these years, we are still being treated as foreigners.&quot;

Many who have returned to Afghanistan are struggling to reintegrate in a country they barely know.

Malala&#39;s family recently left for Afghanistan but the student, who declined to give her full name, decided to stay in Pakistan to complete her studies.

&quot;I&#39;m finding it difficult to continue because my dad is having a hard time establishing his business in Afghanistan,&quot; she said.

But the young woman says she bears no ill will towards Pakistan.

&quot;I was born here and love this soil. No matter where I go, Pakistan will always have a special place in my heart,&quot; she said.&nbsp;

&nbsp;

(Reuters)

Pakistan has some 1.5 million registered refugees, one of the largest such populations in the world, according to the UN refugee agency

Almost 40 years after seeking sanctuary in Pakistan, Nusheen Bibi lives in fear of being expelled from the only country she has ever known. Bibi was only three when her family fled the 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan - some of more than 6 million Afghan refugees who crossed into neighbouring Pakistan and Iran. They soon made a new life in northern Pakistan where Bibi grew up, got married and eventually gave birth. But growing animosity towards Afghan refugees combined with a push from the Pakistani government to repatriate thousands of Afghans has left the 40-year-old feeling vulnerable. Under Pakistan's laws, a foreign woman can acquire Pakistani citizenship by marrying a local man, but Bibi has never done the paperwork to change her nationality. "I can't even think about leaving Pakistan," the mother of five told the Thomson Reuters Foundation in her home, a small mud house. "How can I leave my children, husband and entire family of in-laws?" said Bibi, who asked that her real name not be used. Pakistan has some 1.5 million registered refugees, one of the largest such populations in the world, according to the UN refugee agency (UNHCR). More than a million others are estimated to live there unregistered. Although repatriation is not compulsory, Islamabad has stepped up pressure to send people back and numbers have risen sharply in recent months as Afghan-Indian relations strengthened and those between India and Pakistan soured. UNHCR said 67,057 refugees were permanently repatriated in August, up from 12,962 the month before. In all, more than 380,000 registered Afghan refugees have returned home in 2016 so far, with more than 1.4 million still remaining in Pakistan, UNHCR said. "Still foreigners" In September, Pakistan extended Afghan refugees' right to stay until March 2017, but restrictions and harassment have increased, refugees and the UNHCR say. Many Afghans complain of discrimination when considered for jobs and university places. Pakistani officials deny there has been systematic harassment of Afghans living in Pakistan and say their country has demonstrated great generosity to the refugee population, despite severe economic problems of its own. Like Bibi, Dilshad Begum is also facing the threat of separation from her spouse. Begum was born in Mardan, a district of Pakistan's northwestern province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. In 2003, she married an Afghan man whose family migrated across the border. But unlike foreign women, foreign men cannot acquire Pakistani citizenship through marriage. The couple grew increasingly concerned about their future following brief clashes between Pakistani and Afghan security forces at the Torkham border crossing in June. "My husband sold his property in Afghanistan to establish his business in Pakistan," Begum said. "However, the government is now asking him to close down his business, withdraw all the money from his bank and move back to Afghanistan." Sana, whose Afghan father moved to Pakistan at the age of eight, has tried but failed to gain a place at the University of Peshawar. "I finished college in Peshawar, where I was born. But the management tells me the quota for Afghan students is full already, so I can't get in," she said. "It is extremely disturbing for me to learn that after all these years, we are still being treated as foreigners." Many who have returned to Afghanistan are struggling to reintegrate in a country they barely know. Malala's family recently left for Afghanistan but the student, who declined to give her full name, decided to stay in Pakistan to complete her studies. "I'm finding it difficult to continue because my dad is having a hard time establishing his business in Afghanistan," she said. But the young woman says she bears no ill will towards Pakistan. "I was born here and love this soil. No matter where I go, Pakistan will always have a special place in my heart," she said. (Reuters)

Repatriation push, rising hostility alarms Afghan refugees in Pakistan

Mohammad Anwar arrived in Pakistan as a child more than 35 years ago but is leaving as a father, his family among the thousands of uprooted Afghan refugees &quot;returning&quot; to a war-torn homeland many of them have never seen.

Anwar, disbelieving and grief-stricken, has packed the bric-a-brac of a lifetime onto a truck wildly painted in baroque colours but says he is leaving his heart and soul in Peshawar, the city that sheltered him for decades.

&quot;We can&#39;t forget the time we passed here, we were treated like brothers,&quot; he tells AFP.

&quot;Insha&#39;Allah, we will come here again, this time with passports.&quot;

Pakistan has provided a&nbsp;safe haven for decades for millions like Anwar, who fled Afghanistan with his family when he was just seven years old, after the Soviet invasion of 1979.

But as the fight against the Soviets morphed into civil war, Taliban rule, the US invasion and the grinding conflict in Afghanistan today, even Pakistan&#39;s famed hospitality has run out.

Pakistan hosts 1.4 million registered Afghan refugees, according to UNHCR, making it the third-largest refugee hosting nation in the world. A UNHCR official said the agency also estimates a further one million unregistered refugees are in the country.

Since 2009, Islamabad has repeatedly pushed back a deadline for them to return, but fears are growing that the latest cutoff date in March 2017 will be final.

Meanwhile, refugees are increasingly worried about their future in Pakistan amid a security crackdown against undocumented foreigners.&nbsp;

The anxiety, combined with a UN decision to double its cash grant for voluntary returnees from $200 to $400 per individual in June, has seen the flow of refugees over the border become a torrent.

More than 200,000 have crossed this year, the vast majority since July -- including nearly 98,000 in September alone, says UNHCR.&nbsp;

Tears, trucks at Torkham

Anwar fills out documents at a UNHCR centre outside Peshawar crammed with men in Afghan caps and turbans. Children lie on the floor as mothers in veils fan themselves in the steamy heat.&nbsp;

They face an uncertain future in an Afghanistan still at war and already overwhelmed by so many people fleeing fighting that officials warn of a humanitarian crisis.

But first, they will pass the Torkham frontier, a mountainous outpost where -- until this year -- border &quot;controls&quot; were more of a suggestion, and thousands crossed each day with impunity.

When AFP visited recently a gleaming new gate, constructed in June and reinforced by two kilometres of barbed wire, funnelled travellers through customs queues and scanning machines.

Pakistani pride in the new facilities contrasted with tearful Afghan refugees piling their trucks high not just with household goods, but cattle, tree trunks and scraps that could help build even a mud hut once they reach Afghanistan.&nbsp;

&quot;We spent our best time here,&quot; 45-year-old Khair Muhammad, returning after 36 years with 21 members of his family, told AFP tearfully. His truck was loaded with beds, fans, wood, utensils, and a cow and her calf.

&quot;We never thought, never even imagined that we would return in such circumstances,&quot; said 29-year-old Inamullah Khan.

End of the road

With a resurgent Taliban in control of roughly one-third of Afghanistan&#39;s districts, many returning refugees will travel no further than Kabul.

Among them is Abdhur Rahman, who left for Pakistan 30 years ago, fleeing a province which is now buffeted by Taliban attacks.&nbsp;

He returns aged 70, grey turbanned with his white beard curling over his chest, patriarch of a family of 25.&nbsp;

But the former peasant and anti-Soviet fighter from Paktia in the east will find little support in the overstretched capital. Kabul already has one of the highest population growth rates in the region: some 1,200 people every day, says European Union ambassador Franz-Michael Mellbin.

The UN put the number of displaced people in the city last month at 265,000, and in 2013 the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) documented 53 informal settlements, little more than timber clinging to the side of mountains with neither water nor electricity.

Abdhur Rahman speaks soberly of his last days in Pakistan.&nbsp;

&quot;The police harassed us, they cut the water and electricity in the camp ... it was better to leave,&quot; he says.

But another returnee, Sayed Karim, has lived for months in Kabul &quot;without water, no school, no doctor&quot;.

Trapped in limbo with the gates at Torkham closed and his home province of Baghlan roiled by fighting, he remembers his days as a teacher in the refugee camp in Pakistan.&nbsp;

&quot;In Pakistan, we had good work. A good life,&quot; he says.&nbsp;

(AFP)

With a resurgent Taliban in control of roughly one-third of Afghanistan, many returning refugees will travel no further than Kabul

Mohammad Anwar arrived in Pakistan as a child more than 35 years ago but is leaving as a father, his family among the thousands of uprooted Afghan refugees "returning" to a war-torn homeland many of them have never seen. Anwar, disbelieving and grief-stricken, has packed the bric-a-brac of a lifetime onto a truck wildly painted in baroque colours but says he is leaving his heart and soul in Peshawar, the city that sheltered him for decades. "We can't forget the time we passed here, we were treated like brothers," he tells AFP. "Insha'Allah, we will come here again, this time with passports." Pakistan has provided a safe haven for decades for millions like Anwar, who fled Afghanistan with his family when he was just seven years old, after the Soviet invasion of 1979. But as the fight against the Soviets morphed into civil war, Taliban rule, the US invasion and the grinding conflict in Afghanistan today, even Pakistan's famed hospitality has run out. Pakistan hosts 1.4 million registered Afghan refugees, according to UNHCR, making it the third-largest refugee hosting nation in the world. A UNHCR official said the agency also estimates a further one million unregistered refugees are in the country. Since 2009, Islamabad has repeatedly pushed back a deadline for them to return, but fears are growing that the latest cutoff date in March 2017 will be final. Meanwhile, refugees are increasingly worried about their future in Pakistan amid a security crackdown against undocumented foreigners. The anxiety, combined with a UN decision to double its cash grant for voluntary returnees from $200 to $400 per individual in June, has seen the flow of refugees over the border become a torrent. More than 200,000 have crossed this year, the vast majority since July -- including nearly 98,000 in September alone, says UNHCR. Tears, trucks at Torkham Anwar fills out documents at a UNHCR centre outside Peshawar crammed with men in Afghan caps and turbans. Children lie on the floor as mothers in veils fan themselves in the steamy heat. They face an uncertain future in an Afghanistan still at war and already overwhelmed by so many people fleeing fighting that officials warn of a humanitarian crisis. But first, they will pass the Torkham frontier, a mountainous outpost where -- until this year -- border "controls" were more of a suggestion, and thousands crossed each day with impunity. When AFP visited recently a gleaming new gate, constructed in June and reinforced by two kilometres of barbed wire, funnelled travellers through customs queues and scanning machines. Pakistani pride in the new facilities contrasted with tearful Afghan refugees piling their trucks high not just with household goods, but cattle, tree trunks and scraps that could help build even a mud hut once they reach Afghanistan. "We spent our best time here," 45-year-old Khair Muhammad, returning after 36 years with 21 members of his family, told AFP tearfully. His truck was loaded with beds, fans, wood, utensils, and a cow and her calf. "We never thought, never even imagined that we would return in such circumstances," said 29-year-old Inamullah Khan. End of the road With a resurgent Taliban in control of roughly one-third of Afghanistan's districts, many returning refugees will travel no further than Kabul. Among them is Abdhur Rahman, who left for Pakistan 30 years ago, fleeing a province which is now buffeted by Taliban attacks. He returns aged 70, grey turbanned with his white beard curling over his chest, patriarch of a family of 25. But the former peasant and anti-Soviet fighter from Paktia in the east will find little support in the overstretched capital. Kabul already has one of the highest population growth rates in the region: some 1,200 people every day, says European Union ambassador Franz-Michael Mellbin. The UN put the number of displaced people in the city last month at 265,000, and in 2013 the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) documented 53 informal settlements, little more than timber clinging to the side of mountains with neither water nor electricity. Abdhur Rahman speaks soberly of his last days in Pakistan. "The police harassed us, they cut the water and electricity in the camp ... it was better to leave," he says. But another returnee, Sayed Karim, has lived for months in Kabul "without water, no school, no doctor". Trapped in limbo with the gates at Torkham closed and his home province of Baghlan roiled by fighting, he remembers his days as a teacher in the refugee camp in Pakistan. "In Pakistan, we had good work. A good life," he says. (AFP)

Afghan refugees return to uncertain future in alien homeland

The line-ups in the dispensary were snaking through the camp. Kids were screaming and playing in the dirt. Some queued up outside the tents to collect food supplies; others stood in a file to get water. These people had gathered there to get basic amenities because they had no way to buy them or earn them. There were millions who had been displaced by the fighting in Afghanistan. We stood there looking at the size of this calamity and wondered how this would ever get resolved. This was at the Jalozai camp near Peshawar in Pakistan in 2002.

Almost a decade later, I went back to another camp near Jalozai. By then, Jalozai had shut down. This camp mostly had internally displaced people from Waziristan, living under plastic sheets in what they called their homes. Some of them who were more entrepreneurial had moved out. Some found jobs and some had set-up businesses starting afresh in their new country.

Unimaginable size of refugees 
Over the past decades, the number of refugees has grown acutely. Every minute, 24 people are displaced in this world. Somebody loses one&#39;s home, community and way of life. Official figures tell that 98,400 among the displaced population are unaccompanied or are children who have been separated from their families.&nbsp;

Leaving behind one&rsquo;s home and security are traumatic enough but not having a friend, parent or a relative in the journey to unknown places is scary. The challenge for the children is even more as many get sexually abused. They are scarred for the rest of their lives.

In 2015, one in every 113 people were displaced globally from their homes because of conflict and persecution. Three countries &mdash; Syria, Afghanistan and Somalia &mdash; produce half of the world&rsquo;s refugees. The most startling fact is that about 86 per cent of the world&rsquo;s refugees live in developing countries. In the developing world, where the majority of its own citizens don&rsquo;t have access to basic amenities like clean drinking water, houses and jobs, we can imagine what the living conditions of the refugees would be.

Psychological impact of being a refugee 
The relationship between the governed and the government is a fascinating one. Whether democracy or dictatorship, the governed put trust in their government. They believe that this trust would give them security and opportunity to lead a normal life with their own people. Being labeled a migrant or a refugee puts one&#39;s statehood and identity always in question. There are more than 30,000 Rohingya Muslim refugees in one of the refugee camps in Delhi. While talking to them, one realises that they are always questioning their identity. They feel that they belong nowhere. On the one hand, they are being persecuted in their homeland. On the other hand in their host country, they don&rsquo;t feel a sense of belonging.

Someone who becomes a refugee doesn&rsquo;t want to stay in that condition; they are always vulnerable in a foreign land. Cultural integration in the host country is not easy. Even if they stay in their host countries for generations and finally manage to carve out a new life in the new land, there is always the fear of repatriation. After the 1980 war between the Soviet Union and Afghanistan, several Afghans came to Pakistan as refugees. Over the years, they built their life, home and community in Pakistan. But, now the government of Pakistan is repatriating them. They have been given a deadline till the end of this year to return. Even if some want to stay back, they can&rsquo;t as they suffer harassment at the hands of Pakistani Police.

The refugees have to go through deep psychological distress. They are at risk of developing mental health problems due to their traumatic experiences. They are uprooted from their habitat and face adjustment difficulties in the new country, such as language, occupational problems, and cultural conflict. Uprooting creates culture shock resulting in psychological and mental stress, thus impacting an individual well-being.

However, studies have shown that much of the depression and anxiety of refugees can be alleviated if they can keep family ties somewhat intact and can develop social networks with others from their culture. The stress does not end with the current refugees. It passes onto the children as well, even if they are born into the new environment. Every boy and girl have aspirations and expectations. However, the conditions in refugee camps are so dismal that there is hardly any scope for receiving education, which aggravates the psychological distress in children.

It&rsquo;s a permanent crisis 
Several countries have agreed to accept a larger number of refugees but many have rejected them as well. Thirty-one US states have rejected the idea of accepting refugees. But we have to continuously remind ourselves that we shouldn&rsquo;t be creating conditions that will push more people out of their homes and countries. Instead, there should be a concerted effort to end the turmoil. Meanwhile, let&rsquo;s make these populations feel at home.

Sometimes, circumstances are such that people are relieved to leave their native places and move to new ones. Muthi camp that I visited in Jammu of Kashmiri in 2007-2008, people were relieved to escape from Kashmir where their women were being gang raped by their Muslims neighbours right in front of their eyes. Traumatised by such events, they preferred to leave and never return. They have established new homes around the world. So sometimes there may not be a choice but to leave and become a refugee or just create a new home in some place else. The idea should be to help create the circumstance for populations to find safe havens.&nbsp;

We often come across the term &lsquo;conflict management&rsquo; in writings and articles. Lately, it seems that the word is almost being over-used. Conflicts can be managed for decades but they don&rsquo;t end the war. What is needed is conflict resolution. We need to resolve and end the conflicts so that people are no longer displaced.

&nbsp;

The monumental refugee crisis demands a resolve to end the tragedy

The line-ups in the dispensary were snaking through the camp. Kids were screaming and playing in the dirt. Some queued up outside the tents to collect food supplies; others stood in a file to get water. These people had gathered there to get basic amenities because they had no way to buy them or earn them. There were millions who had been displaced by the fighting in Afghanistan. We stood there looking at the size of this calamity and wondered how this would ever get resolved. This was at the Jalozai camp near Peshawar in Pakistan in 2002. Almost a decade later, I went back to another camp near Jalozai. By then, Jalozai had shut down. This camp mostly had internally displaced people from Waziristan, living under plastic sheets in what they called their homes. Some of them who were more entrepreneurial had moved out. Some found jobs and some had set-up businesses starting afresh in their new country. Unimaginable size of refugees Over the past decades, the number of refugees has grown acutely. Every minute, 24 people are displaced in this world. Somebody loses one's home, community and way of life. Official figures tell that 98,400 among the displaced population are unaccompanied or are children who have been separated from their families. Leaving behind one’s home and security are traumatic enough but not having a friend, parent or a relative in the journey to unknown places is scary. The challenge for the children is even more as many get sexually abused. They are scarred for the rest of their lives. In 2015, one in every 113 people were displaced globally from their homes because of conflict and persecution. Three countries — Syria, Afghanistan and Somalia — produce half of the world’s refugees. The most startling fact is that about 86 per cent of the world’s refugees live in developing countries. In the developing world, where the majority of its own citizens don’t have access to basic amenities like clean drinking water, houses and jobs, we can imagine what the living conditions of the refugees would be. Psychological impact of being a refugee The relationship between the governed and the government is a fascinating one. Whether democracy or dictatorship, the governed put trust in their government. They believe that this trust would give them security and opportunity to lead a normal life with their own people. Being labeled a migrant or a refugee puts one's statehood and identity always in question. There are more than 30,000 Rohingya Muslim refugees in one of the refugee camps in Delhi. While talking to them, one realises that they are always questioning their identity. They feel that they belong nowhere. On the one hand, they are being persecuted in their homeland. On the other hand in their host country, they don’t feel a sense of belonging. Someone who becomes a refugee doesn’t want to stay in that condition; they are always vulnerable in a foreign land. Cultural integration in the host country is not easy. Even if they stay in their host countries for generations and finally manage to carve out a new life in the new land, there is always the fear of repatriation. After the 1980 war between the Soviet Union and Afghanistan, several Afghans came to Pakistan as refugees. Over the years, they built their life, home and community in Pakistan. But, now the government of Pakistan is repatriating them. They have been given a deadline till the end of this year to return. Even if some want to stay back, they can’t as they suffer harassment at the hands of Pakistani Police. The refugees have to go through deep psychological distress. They are at risk of developing mental health problems due to their traumatic experiences. They are uprooted from their habitat and face adjustment difficulties in the new country, such as language, occupational problems, and cultural conflict. Uprooting creates culture shock resulting in psychological and mental stress, thus impacting an individual well-being. However, studies have shown that much of the depression and anxiety of refugees can be alleviated if they can keep family ties somewhat intact and can develop social networks with others from their culture. The stress does not end with the current refugees. It passes onto the children as well, even if they are born into the new environment. Every boy and girl have aspirations and expectations. However, the conditions in refugee camps are so dismal that there is hardly any scope for receiving education, which aggravates the psychological distress in children. It’s a permanent crisis Several countries have agreed to accept a larger number of refugees but many have rejected them as well. Thirty-one US states have rejected the idea of accepting refugees. But we have to continuously remind ourselves that we shouldn’t be creating conditions that will push more people out of their homes and countries. Instead, there should be a concerted effort to end the turmoil. Meanwhile, let’s make these populations feel at home. Sometimes, circumstances are such that people are relieved to leave their native places and move to new ones. Muthi camp that I visited in Jammu of Kashmiri in 2007-2008, people were relieved to escape from Kashmir where their women were being gang raped by their Muslims neighbours right in front of their eyes. Traumatised by such events, they preferred to leave and never return. They have established new homes around the world. So sometimes there may not be a choice but to leave and become a refugee or just create a new home in some place else. The idea should be to help create the circumstance for populations to find safe havens. We often come across the term ‘conflict management’ in writings and articles. Lately, it seems that the word is almost being over-used. Conflicts can be managed for decades but they don’t end the war. What is needed is conflict resolution. We need to resolve and end the conflicts so that people are no longer displaced.

Road to nowhere: the global refugee crisis

About 90,000 Afghan refugees have returned to their country from Pakistan this year, The Express Tribune reported today.&nbsp; 
 
According to The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Pakistan, security checks for undocumented Afghans and a relatively higher cash grant for those who apply for repatriation has made this possible.&nbsp; 
 
&ldquo;The increase in the number of security operations against undocumented foreigners, including undocumented Afghans, has also impacted refugees&rsquo; decision-making, despite assurances from authorities that Proof of Registration card holders will not be subjected to arrest or deportation,&rdquo; UNHCR-Pakistan spokesperson Dunya Khan told the Pakistan daily.&nbsp; 
 
She however added that refugees should not be forced to go back.&nbsp; 
 
&ldquo;Because of the border security environment and action against undocumented foreigners, Afghan refugees face pressure,&rdquo; she said. 
 
Pakistan currently has around three million Afghan refugees. Of these, 1.6 million are registered while the remaining are not, and are vulnerable to expulsion, The Express Tribune report said, 
 
Pakistan&#39;s Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif had earlier extended the deadline for registration of Afghan refugees by six months, that has allowed them &nbsp;to stay in the country &nbsp;till December 31, 2016. 
 
(WION)

The UN refugee agency says its because of security checks for undocumented Afghans and a higher cash grant for repatriation: Express Tribune

About 90,000 Afghan refugees have returned to their country from Pakistan this year, The Express Tribune reported today. According to The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in Pakistan, security checks for undocumented Afghans and a relatively higher cash grant for those who apply for repatriation has made this possible. “The increase in the number of security operations against undocumented foreigners, including undocumented Afghans, has also impacted refugees’ decision-making, despite assurances from authorities that Proof of Registration card holders will not be subjected to arrest or deportation,” UNHCR-Pakistan spokesperson Dunya Khan told the Pakistan daily. She however added that refugees should not be forced to go back. “Because of the border security environment and action against undocumented foreigners, Afghan refugees face pressure,” she said. Pakistan currently has around three million Afghan refugees. Of these, 1.6 million are registered while the remaining are not, and are vulnerable to expulsion, The Express Tribune report said, Pakistan's Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif had earlier extended the deadline for registration of Afghan refugees by six months, that has allowed them to stay in the country till December 31, 2016. (WION)

'90,000 Afghan refugees in Pakistan returned to their homes this year'

Clad in a black hijab tucked carefully to fit the frame of her face, 37-year-old Shaheen (name changed) is busy jotting down notes in Persian. The room is dimly lit and it&rsquo;s a hot summer day in the Indian capital. She stops, her hands leave the diary to reach out for the calculator on the table. Five other veiled women sit around the table. They are speaking fluent Dari, one of the major languages spoken in Afghanistan. It is one animated conversation. 
 
Shaheen looks up and says, &ldquo;We have to prepare food for 250 heads tomorrow. We are trying to decide who makes what. This is our biggest order till date and we are nervous. If they like the food, we are going to make good money.&rdquo; 
 
The small room serves as an office for Ilham, a catering start-up run by six Afghan women, all of them single mothers living as refugees in New Delhi. The venture kicked off in 2015 with help from United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) and its implementing agency ACCESS Development Services (ADS). Their aim is to help these women achieve economic independence by putting their culinary skills to use. 
 
&ldquo;The profit from our first order was 750 Indian Rupees ($11). It&rsquo;s a really small amount but it was extremely significant for us. That&rsquo;s how Ilham started,&rdquo; says Ziagul, co-founder of the catering service. The menu is Afghan only and the food is home-cooked. 
 
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kh5cwU-SrRY" width="560"></iframe> 
 
A widow and a mother of five, Ziagul came to India in 2011 after she started receiving death threats from the Taliban. Her husband was killed by unidentified men back in 2001 but she continued to stay at her home in Herat, Afghanistan. It was only when she realised that her daughters were in danger that she decided to move to India. 
 
&ldquo;My eldest daughter was a television reporter and my two younger daughters were child actresses in the Afghan film industry. The Taliban threatened us because they thought television was not a place for respectable women,&rdquo; she says. 
 
Ilham is like a mind balm for these ladies who have seen their lives ripped apart in a land that has constantly witnessed conflict since the end of the 1970s. 
 
&ldquo;The word Ilham means &lsquo;positive&rsquo;. After years of bloodshed and struggle, this is the only positive thing to have happened in our lives,&rdquo; says Shaheen, the lone interpreter in the group. She picked up Hindi by watching Indian movies, she tells WIONews. 
 
Shaheen used to teach at a college in Kabul before her husband was abducted by the Taliban. 
 
&ldquo;His friends say he was shot dead but I didn&rsquo;t even get to see his body. I had to take care of four children. I did have a job but the situation became worse when my in-laws asked me to marry my husband&rsquo;s brother. I refused and was tortured. And that&#39;s why I ran away with my children.&rdquo; 
 
After making her way to New Delhi, Shaheen sustained her family by working as a domestic help before joining Ilham. It has been four years since she arrived here. She hasn&rsquo;t been able to enrol her children in a school. 
 
&ldquo;The money was never enough. We barely managed to eat and pay our rent. It&rsquo;s kind of an irony that I had the best of education possible for a woman in that conflict-torn country and that my children are uneducated.&rdquo; 
 
But Ilham has filled her with renewed hope. &ldquo;Ever since I have joined the business, I see hope for them.&rdquo; 
 
Refugee life for Nadira (name changed), the youngest in the group, has been tough because she does not understand Hindi. While the other women praise her recipe of Afghan dumplings, Nadira talks about her family. 
 
&ldquo;I divorced my husband because he was abusive and a drug addict. Afghanistan is a hostile place for a separated woman. So, I decided to come to India with my daughter and younger siblings,&rdquo; she says. 
 
Unlike Shaheen, Nadira has had little education. Ilham is her first taste of empowerment. &ldquo;I see other women at Ilham as liberated Afghan women and that&rsquo;s what I want to be,&rdquo; she says. 
 
The Afghan ladies have attended workshops on enterprise development and teamwork. They have learned to&nbsp;deal with clients. Though the funding is non government organisation-backed (NGO-backed) at the moment, the women hope that Ilham will soon stand on its own feet. 
 
&ldquo;The NGO is an implementing partner of UNHCR and we have provided these women with the banners, visiting cards and raw materials. But the idea is to turn this into a self-sustainable venture. We are getting them used to running a business,&rdquo; says Aditi Sabharwal from ADS. 
 
The venture seems to be on the right track. In the past one year, Ilham has taken part in quite a few popular cultural festivals organised here. According to ADS, it is fast becoming a rage in various embassies in New Delhi to order food from there. 
 
Meanwhile, another good news comes in. It is a big one. It is an invite from one of the biggest hotels in New Delhi to cook in the hotel&rsquo;s kitchen. 
 
&ldquo;It is overwhelming. We are a little scared because it is a luxury hotel kitchen. But this opportunity shows Ilham is working. The aim now is to get more such orders so that we have enough money to expand our business and to save for our families,&rdquo; says Ziagul, who wants Ilham to transform into a restaurant, before getting back to work. 
 
Tomorrow is going to be very busy for these Afghan women. A lot is riding on their shoulders: a good future for them and their families. And, possibly, the hope of thousands of displaced people.

Breaking away from the stereotype of disempowered refugees, six women from war-torn Afghanistan are seeking to turn their fortunes around

Clad in a black hijab tucked carefully to fit the frame of her face, 37-year-old Shaheen (name changed) is busy jotting down notes in Persian. The room is dimly lit and it’s a hot summer day in the Indian capital. She stops, her hands leave the diary to reach out for the calculator on the table. Five other veiled women sit around the table. They are speaking fluent Dari, one of the major languages spoken in Afghanistan. It is one animated conversation. Shaheen looks up and says, “We have to prepare food for 250 heads tomorrow. We are trying to decide who makes what. This is our biggest order till date and we are nervous. If they like the food, we are going to make good money.” The small room serves as an office for Ilham, a catering start-up run by six Afghan women, all of them single mothers living as refugees in New Delhi. The venture kicked off in 2015 with help from United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) and its implementing agency ACCESS Development Services (ADS). Their aim is to help these women achieve economic independence by putting their culinary skills to use. “The profit from our first order was 750 Indian Rupees ($11). It’s a really small amount but it was extremely significant for us. That’s how Ilham started,” says Ziagul, co-founder of the catering service. The menu is Afghan only and the food is home-cooked. A widow and a mother of five, Ziagul came to India in 2011 after she started receiving death threats from the Taliban. Her husband was killed by unidentified men back in 2001 but she continued to stay at her home in Herat, Afghanistan. It was only when she realised that her daughters were in danger that she decided to move to India. “My eldest daughter was a television reporter and my two younger daughters were child actresses in the Afghan film industry. The Taliban threatened us because they thought television was not a place for respectable women,” she says. Ilham is like a mind balm for these ladies who have seen their lives ripped apart in a land that has constantly witnessed conflict since the end of the 1970s. “The word Ilham means ‘positive’. After years of bloodshed and struggle, this is the only positive thing to have happened in our lives,” says Shaheen, the lone interpreter in the group. She picked up Hindi by watching Indian movies, she tells WIONews. Shaheen used to teach at a college in Kabul before her husband was abducted by the Taliban. “His friends say he was shot dead but I didn’t even get to see his body. I had to take care of four children. I did have a job but the situation became worse when my in-laws asked me to marry my husband’s brother. I refused and was tortured. And that's why I ran away with my children.” After making her way to New Delhi, Shaheen sustained her family by working as a domestic help before joining Ilham. It has been four years since she arrived here. She hasn’t been able to enrol her children in a school. “The money was never enough. We barely managed to eat and pay our rent. It’s kind of an irony that I had the best of education possible for a woman in that conflict-torn country and that my children are uneducated.” But Ilham has filled her with renewed hope. “Ever since I have joined the business, I see hope for them.” Refugee life for Nadira (name changed), the youngest in the group, has been tough because she does not understand Hindi. While the other women praise her recipe of Afghan dumplings, Nadira talks about her family. “I divorced my husband because he was abusive and a drug addict. Afghanistan is a hostile place for a separated woman. So, I decided to come to India with my daughter and younger siblings,” she says. Unlike Shaheen, Nadira has had little education. Ilham is her first taste of empowerment. “I see other women at Ilham as liberated Afghan women and that’s what I want to be,” she says. The Afghan ladies have attended workshops on enterprise development and teamwork. They have learned to deal with clients. Though the funding is non government organisation-backed (NGO-backed) at the moment, the women hope that Ilham will soon stand on its own feet. “The NGO is an implementing partner of UNHCR and we have provided these women with the banners, visiting cards and raw materials. But the idea is to turn this into a self-sustainable venture. We are getting them used to running a business,” says Aditi Sabharwal from ADS. The venture seems to be on the right track. In the past one year, Ilham has taken part in quite a few popular cultural festivals organised here. According to ADS, it is fast becoming a rage in various embassies in New Delhi to order food from there. Meanwhile, another good news comes in. It is a big one. It is an invite from one of the biggest hotels in New Delhi to cook in the hotel’s kitchen. “It is overwhelming. We are a little scared because it is a luxury hotel kitchen. But this opportunity shows Ilham is working. The aim now is to get more such orders so that we have enough money to expand our business and to save for our families,” says Ziagul, who wants Ilham to transform into a restaurant, before getting back to work. Tomorrow is going to be very busy for these Afghan women. A lot is riding on their shoulders: a good future for them and their families. And, possibly, the hope of thousands of displaced people.

Broth of hope: Afghan refugee women turn entrepreneurs

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