Lofty Slogans, Low Expectations in Bamian

Marzia Mohammadi works on her election campaign. Picture by Jean MacKenzie

The four men sit quietly folding election handbills as 30-year-old Marzia Mohammadi speaks of her plans for the people of Bamian province in central Afghanistan. Eloquent, serious but with flashes of humour, Marzia is one of seven candidates competing for the four parliamentary seats set aside for Bamian’s women.

Marzia is an exception in this backward province, where up to 98 per cent of women are illiterate. She is a doctor and midwife and has had three years experience in government - two years with the ministry of women's affairs in Kabul, and a year in Wardak working on social affairs.

Unusually for this male-dominated society, the men around her - her husband, a family friend and two campaign workers - support her quest to win a seat in the September 18 vote.

"I sold all my jewellery to finance my campaign but I have run out of money. My husband and his brother are helping me and have me given money," she said.

Marzia's campaign headquarters is in an upstairs room in a building located on the potholed dirt road that is Bamian’s main street. The office is reached by a rickety wooden ladder running over the open drain and unpaved footpath that lies deep in dust during summer and buried in snow during winter.

In one corner of the room sits a stack of campaign posters and handbills waiting to be handed out. The slogan on a huge pink banner on the wall above reads, "Take part in the elections. Choose the best candidate."

"I had 1,000 posters printed and 5,000 brochures. So far, I've spent more than 100,000 afghanis [2,000 US dollars] on my campaign," said Marzia, adding that her brother had just given her another 10,000 afghanis to help out.

In the lottery for election symbols assigned to each candidate, she chose a fireplace out of the three that were taken out of a hat. For her, this represents the heart of the home, the source of warmth and light. She found little of relevance in the other two symbols, a camel and a camera.

"If I get into parliament, the first thing I’ll do is fight for proper education facilities for girls and women in this town," Marzia said firmly, adding that she would also work for the whole province, which she said had been neglected by successive central governments for years.

"I also want to do something about the health situation here. One of the candidates lost his sister a few days ago while she was in labour. The baby died as well. That was unnecessary."

Marzia has her own children, a ten-year-old daughter and a son aged eight, and is well accustomed to hearing about family problems in her professional life.

Sitting near to her, 19-year-old Aqela Husain Ali listens intently to what Marzia is saying. The young woman is also campaigning, in her case for Bamian’s provincial council.

She appears shy and explains that she was pushed into entering the contest.

"I was working for a Bangladeshi non-governmental organisation when people told me I should stand for election," she said.

She may be timid but she had enough courage to attend an underground school in Kabul during the Taleban regime, when girls were barred from receiving any type of education.

"We were 15 girls who used to go there and we each paid 300 afghanis [six dollars] a month. We had to hide our books under our burqas to avoid being caught," she said.

Aqela has a simple approach to her campaign, "I want to work for both women and men." Her poster is equally brief, calling only for "independence, freedom and territorial integration".

She also vows to work for more clinics and hospitals in remote areas of this highland province, where the journey just to reach a main road can take days by donkey.

Outside her campaign headquarters, on the town's shop windows and walls, Marzia's posters pledge that she too will work equally for men and women in rebuilding Afghanistan.

She will need all her eloquence to persuade some of those shopping in the shacks that form Bamian high street. Many townspeople have no idea of what a parliament is and show considerable distrust of those seeking election to this dubious body.

Mohammad Naeen Alami, a shopkeeper who is more informed than most, has allowed his window to be plastered with the posters of at least five different candidates, including one woman.

"I know what parliament is: there will be members from each province to represent the people," said Alami.

He has not yet decided who to vote for, but said it would be someone he had known for a long time and felt he could trust.

"Some candidates are already handing out money to people to try to get their vote. If anyone offers me money, I'll take it - but I won't vote for them," he said with a grin.

Another shopkeeper, 20-year-old Mohammad Agha, has nothing but contempt for the whole election. "I hate all the candidates," he said. "Some of them put their posters on my window without even asking. I tore them off. I won't be voting for any of that lot."

Not far from Agha's shop, with its tattered remains of posters, the head of Bamian People's Council was sitting on a pine two-seater settee checking his campaign literature. Dost Mohammad is also standing for parliament and says he has four groups of people working for him.

"If I get into parliament I'll have more power and will be able to do more for my people," he said, adding that he planned to work for the whole of Afghanistan and not just the province.

"I've had 2,000 posters and 2,000 handbills printed for 15,000 afghanis," he said, adding that his campaign is based on social justice, security, freedom and the reconstruction of Afghanistan.

He accused at least one rich candidate of corruption, saying the man had brought in six lorry-loads of cooking oil and rice which he was giving away to people who promised to vote for him.

Dost Mohammad said he was campaigning mostly at the town mosque, particularly after Friday prayers. It’s the best place to meet people as Bamian has no central hall, public stadium or meeting place.

He may well run into Marzia there. Although most mosques in predominantly Sunni Afghanistan are off-limits to women, Bamian province is home to the Hazara people who are mainly Shia and allow women to attend mosques.

Dost Mohammed, who has eight children aged between eight and 26, takes a childlike pleasure himself in his voting symbol – a cup trophy. "This is a symbol of victory," he said optimistically.

But it’s not easy for any of the candidates to get their message out in this province, with its estimated population of between 400,000 and 600,000 people.

Even here in the provincial capital, there is no mains electricity and the only people who watch television are the few who can afford their own generators. The sole radio station only reaches those living within a radius of ten kilometres.

The size of the task is well illustrated in the comments of 32-year-old Ali Ahmad, who was studying a poster on the sidewalk. He was unimpressed by the symbol assigned to the unlucky candidate.

"I will never vote for someone whose symbol is a shameful broom. We use those to clean our rooms. I would be ashamed to vote for such a thing," he said.

Wahidullah Amani is an IWPR reporter based in Kabul.