When the Taliban entered Kabul on the morning of August 15 last year, Gulafroz Ebtekar refused to leave his office in the Interior Ministry’s Criminal Investigation Department (CID). “Everyone rushed home, but I had responsibilities. “I couldn’t just leave, even if the Taliban were coming,” Ebtekar said of his role as a former deputy director general of the CID’s family response department.
She chose to stay, knowing that the Taliban would avenge the many cases she had investigated against their members. With a career in the Afghan police force spanning more than 12 years, she led a unit that monitored cases of gender-based violence, including many in Taliban-controlled areas.
“I only left when I learned that the president had fled the country,” said the 34-year-old woman from her temporary accommodation in Shenjin, Albania.
Growing up in a small village in the central province of Daikundi in the 1990s, Ebtekar remembers the last era of Taliban rule. “All girls’ schools in our village were closed, but I wanted to study and I was a difficult child. “My parents finally gave up and enrolled me in the only boys’ schools in the village, despite criticism from village elders,” she said.
After all, she was the only girl to graduate from high school in the village, becoming one of the few Afghan police officers with a master’s degree in law enforcement.
Gulafroz advocated for higher education opportunities for Afghan police. Photo: Farhad Pit
Apparently, this spirit of determination has lived in her career. “After I joined the forces, I realized that I needed to professionalize them,” she said. “The police in Afghanistan had a very bad reputation. Not only were they perceived as a corrupt institution, but the women who worked there also saw themselves with dubious morals. When I first joined, many of my relatives told my family that I had chosen a bad job and that I would not be able to find a good husband, ”she said, laughing.
Irresistibly, Ebtekar focuses his energy on an inspiring change of strength. “Most police officers were unaware of their rights, which would have led to their abuse. That is why I appealed to the top management to focus on providing education and higher education for women in power. I believed that this would not only enable them, but also help them better protect the rights of Afghan women who have turned to them. ”
I used my headscarf to stop a man’s bleeding, but then I was hit by a Taliban fighter who called me an infidel.
Her advocacy, she told the Guardian, has led to an internal campaign to provide higher education opportunities among the 4,000 police officers.
“My department was responsible for investigating cases of gender-based violence, especially domestic violence, registered by women. Between 2018 and 2021, I can remember working on nearly 12,000 cases. This is a worrying figure, given that most Afghan women who experience domestic violence do not register their cases with the police.
However, almost all of Ebtekar’s achievements collapsed last summer, leaving her a pariah in a city now under Taliban control. “When I got home on the last day of work, the Taliban had already visited my house. “They threatened my family with consequences for my work in the police,” she said.
The decision to seek asylum abroad was incredibly difficult. “The last time the Taliban came to power, I exploded and I managed,” she said, referring to her education. “If I could achieve my dreams again with the power of will”
Gulafroz finally managed to escape Afghanistan with a few belongings and a family album.
Later that evening, Ebtekar and her sister, also a policewoman, packed a small bag with several items and an old family photo album and went to the airport. “It was like the end of days. Panic and chaos reigned everywhere; foreign soldiers fired on the crowd to protect them. Someone near me was hit, so I took off my headscarf to stop his bleeding, but then I was stunned by a Taliban fighter who called me an infidel. [for not wearing a scarf]”
Ebetkar failed to escape and remained in hiding in Afghanistan for weeks. During a particularly low point, she posted on Facebook that she was disappointed with humanity and was considering suicide. The publication went viral, leading to an outpouring of support for Ebtekar and her sister. They were eventually rescued by well-wishers in October, two months after the Taliban took over.
Seven months later, Ebtekar and her sister are already in Albania, waiting to hear from many countries where she has sought refuge.
Although forced to flee, Ebtekar hopes to raise awareness of the problems facing Afghan police. When the Taliban took power, there were nearly 4,000 female police officers in the country, most of whom lost their jobs. Some were detained for running women’s prisons. The Ministry of Women and other women’s support services were also disbanded. The Taliban support a very small number of women as security guards who have reportedly been called in during investigations and home attacks.
Gulafroz (right) and her sister, who is also a police officer, hold a flag in Afghanistan. Photo: Farhad Pit
“There are thousands of police officers at risk in Afghanistan and it is our duty and the responsibility of the international community to help them. These women have been trained to serve the Afghans, no matter who is in power. “They are an asset to Afghan society and the Taliban must put them back to work because without them, there will be no justice for women in Afghanistan,” she said.
In December, the Taliban tried to list some of the women’s rights they would guarantee, but critics argued that without established systems or institutions that support women, it would be nearly impossible for women to seek justice.
“You can’t effectively help women in any society, but especially in a gender-divided society like Afghanistan, and especially in cases of gender-based violence without women’s police,” said Heather Barr, associate director. of the Women’s Rights Department at Human Rights Watch.
Even before August 15, Bar said, there were not enough women in the Afghan police. “It was a challenge for male police officers to investigate cases, to question witnesses or victims without police officers. But as of August 15, the barriers are much higher because it can be banned by the Taliban, which essentially means that there is no access to justice for women, “she explained.
Ebtekar strongly believes that police officers should be allowed back to work to ensure that at least some access to justice is possible for vulnerable women. “Police women are crucial to any justice system they hope to bring to Afghanistan. This is the cause I will pursue from now on, “she said.
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