Kabulis Roll Up Their Sleeves
As authorities struggle to cope, local communities are taking on repairs to roads and buildings themselves.
Kabulis Roll Up Their Sleeves
As authorities struggle to cope, local communities are taking on repairs to roads and buildings themselves.
Scarred and neglected after years of conflict, Kabul's main market road was not a pretty sight. The city authorities were swamped by the amount of reconstruction needed in the capital, so local shopkeepers decided to fix it themselves.
"Kabul municipality is responsible for rebuilding the road, because all the shops in the market pay tax," Sher Padshah, a 42-year-old greengrocer, told IWPR. "But because the road through the market was in a state of complete devastation, and this caused trouble to both shopkeepers and the public, we decided to repave it at our own expense."
Mandoi Road, the thoroughfare running through the bustling marketplace - where just about anything can be found for a price - had become a hazard, particularly in winter when large potholes filled with water.
The merchants decided to pay for the resurfacing, agreeing that ordinary shops should charge 60 US dollars, more expensive stores 100, and local businesses 200. Some stumped up larger funds - one import-export company donated several thousand dollars.
Nasir Ahmad surveyed the newly resealed road from his shop with an air of satisfaction. "There was water everywhere on the street with dust turning to mud in winter," he said. "We collected money to fix this problem and, by the will of God, we have succeeded."
Traders in nearby Bilar Street did the same, and 102 shops found 50 to 100 dollars each to repair the battered surface.
"We wanted to reconstruct the road at our own expense because of hygiene and other problems," explained Raza, who sells groceries.
Other Kabul residents have displayed similar civic pride on different projects. People living in the Dehboori district collected one million afghanis - just over 20,000 dollars - to rebuild the largest place of worship in the neighbourhood, the Jami Mosque. The building lay badly damaged in an area devastated by factional fighting in the early Nineties. One hundred local families gave what they could, with local butchers providing free lunches for the workers.
Theoretically, the Ministry for Haj and Religious Affairs should arrange for the mosque to be rebuilt. "We went again and again to the Haj ministry," said the imam (preacher), Maulavi Gul Agha, explaining why the congregation decided to act. "They kept giving us promises but they didn't give us a penny - neither the government, nor non-government organisations."
Local residents are proud of what they have achieved under their own steam. "We don't need any help from the government," said Painda Mohammad. "If you get the municipality involved in rebuilding houses or mosques you have to seek a lot of permissions."
The deputy head of Kabul city's planning department, Bashir Ahmad, told IWPR that his office was currently involved in nine large scale projects in partnership with international non-government agencies - but it also welcomed efforts by communities to help themselves. He added that they should always check that their reconstruction work was in accordance with the master plan that's been developed for the city.
Rules and regulations designed to stop unchecked city development were also cited as the reason why the market road was left unrepaired until locals took charge. Engineer Sayed Alam Ahmadi, who is responsible for construction work in Kabul, told IWPR that because the Mandoi Road lay in the old part of town, it was subject to special requirements to make sure it remained in character.
"Unfortunately the ministry of reconstruction has not given the municipality the right map, so no rebuilding work is allowed yet," he said. "We don't want to spend money on construction projects that are not permitted, and which would only have to be destroyed again."
Elsewhere in the city, fans of Afghanistan's most popular singer have come together to refurbish a shrine built in his honour. Ahmed Zahir, killed in a car crash in 1979 when he was just 33, was revered by most Afghans, but not the Taleban movement, who banned popular music.
"When I came back to my country after seven years away, I went to the shrine the first day I arrived," recalled Radio Liberty journalist Abdul Razaq Mamoon. "I saw what a poor state it was in - the Taleban had destroyed it."
He and 10 of his friends dipped into their own pockets to rebuild the monument, a dome supported by marble arches over a gravestone.
Why didn't they launch an appeal, or ask the authorities to help? "We don't want to make a business out of Ahmed Zahir's popularity - it's art," said Mamoon.
Mohammad Farooq is an independent journalist attending an IWPR training programme in Kabul.
