Despite their resilience, Afghan women remain trapped in a failing mental health system in Kabul. High in the hills, behind barbed wire, lies the women’s wing of a mental health centre operated by the Afghan Red Crescent Society (ARCS), known among locals as Qala or “the fortress.” Limited in number, these facilities serve an increasing population of women with mental health issues.
The BBC was granted exclusive access to this overpopulated center, which currently houses 104 women, including individuals like Mariam*, a survivor of domestic violence who has been trapped in Qala for nine long years. Having endured abuse and neglect from her family, followed by episodes of homelessness, Mariam had hoped for a chance of recovery. Despite her past traumas, she maintains a hopeful spirit and expresses a desire to be discharged, yet remains unable to leave due to a lack of a support system outside.
"I don't expect to return to my father and mother," she says. "I want to marry someone here in Kabul." The harsh reality of strict Taliban regulations and patriarchal norms leaves women without legal or social means to live independently, rendering them reliant on male guardians for their basic needs, including freedom of movement.
Habiba, 28, is another resident who seeks a way back to her children, lost to her after her husband remarried and forced her out of the family home. The centre is rife with abandoned cases; some patients have called Qala home for up to 40 years. Saleema Halib, a psychotherapist at the facility, notes the acute neglect contributing to a mental health crisis exacerbated by years of conflict and societal stigma surrounding mental health issues.
Current circumstances, alongside a UN report indicating an escalating mental health crisis among women in Afghanistan, highlight dire conditions, with a staggering 68% reporting "bad" or "very bad" mental health. Furthermore, Taliban officials deny that violence against women exists, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Qualified medical support is scarce; Dr. Abdul Wali Utmanzai, a psychiatrist at a nearby ARCS facility, faces the burden of treating up to 50 outpatients daily, many of whom are young women confronting severe economic hardships. "80% of my patients are young women with family issues," he states, emphasizing the severe limitations women face while seeking medical aid.
This evolving crisis denies women like Mariam and Habiba the opportunity to reclaim their lives. Admission to the centre has increased significantly over the last four years, leaving many desperate women without necessary assistance. A recent case reflects this struggle: 16-year-old Zainab was recently admitted after being confined at home, shackled to prevent her from escaping. Her mental state further deteriorated following exposure to tragic events at her school.
As Afghan women continue to navigate a preclusive society, it remains to be seen whether they can break free from mental health institutions like Qala, or if they too will become yet another statistic of abandonment and despair.
*Names have been changed for anonymity.
The BBC was granted exclusive access to this overpopulated center, which currently houses 104 women, including individuals like Mariam*, a survivor of domestic violence who has been trapped in Qala for nine long years. Having endured abuse and neglect from her family, followed by episodes of homelessness, Mariam had hoped for a chance of recovery. Despite her past traumas, she maintains a hopeful spirit and expresses a desire to be discharged, yet remains unable to leave due to a lack of a support system outside.
"I don't expect to return to my father and mother," she says. "I want to marry someone here in Kabul." The harsh reality of strict Taliban regulations and patriarchal norms leaves women without legal or social means to live independently, rendering them reliant on male guardians for their basic needs, including freedom of movement.
Habiba, 28, is another resident who seeks a way back to her children, lost to her after her husband remarried and forced her out of the family home. The centre is rife with abandoned cases; some patients have called Qala home for up to 40 years. Saleema Halib, a psychotherapist at the facility, notes the acute neglect contributing to a mental health crisis exacerbated by years of conflict and societal stigma surrounding mental health issues.
Current circumstances, alongside a UN report indicating an escalating mental health crisis among women in Afghanistan, highlight dire conditions, with a staggering 68% reporting "bad" or "very bad" mental health. Furthermore, Taliban officials deny that violence against women exists, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
Qualified medical support is scarce; Dr. Abdul Wali Utmanzai, a psychiatrist at a nearby ARCS facility, faces the burden of treating up to 50 outpatients daily, many of whom are young women confronting severe economic hardships. "80% of my patients are young women with family issues," he states, emphasizing the severe limitations women face while seeking medical aid.
This evolving crisis denies women like Mariam and Habiba the opportunity to reclaim their lives. Admission to the centre has increased significantly over the last four years, leaving many desperate women without necessary assistance. A recent case reflects this struggle: 16-year-old Zainab was recently admitted after being confined at home, shackled to prevent her from escaping. Her mental state further deteriorated following exposure to tragic events at her school.
As Afghan women continue to navigate a preclusive society, it remains to be seen whether they can break free from mental health institutions like Qala, or if they too will become yet another statistic of abandonment and despair.
*Names have been changed for anonymity.
