The Rainbow Refugee Podcast - Episode 1: Lost and (Not)Found, Part 2

26 August 2022

Part two of ‘Lost and (Not)Found’ continues to follow Shahriyar*, a 21-year-old gay man from Herat, and his journey as he talks about how women and LGBTIQ Afghans are persecuted under the Taliban’s rule and how they are protecting themselves and each other as acts of solidarity in resistance.

This episode is hosted by Zohra Mousavi, our Afghanistan Special Programme coordinator.

This episode is in Dari, and English transcriptions are available below. See the announcement page for more information on the podcast and episode releases.

Podcast Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed are the podcast guest’s own and do not represent the views, thoughts, and opinions of ILGA Asia.

Listen below:

Content Warning: Homophobia, transphobia, sexism and misogyny, stalking or harassment, violence, torture, murder, depression, abuse, and death.

English transcription

The original Dari recording has precedence over the English translations.

Host: Zohra Mousavi (Host)
Guest: Shahriyar Mandegar (SM)

Host:
Shahriyar, can you tell us why the Taliban has been and is targeting Afghanistan’s queer community? What is the community’s significance to the Taliban? 

SM:
The Taliban is a radical group. They don’t even want women attending school; they think it’s disgraceful. 

Host:
They don’t wish the women to leave the house at all.

SM:
Yeah. When they (the Taliban) observe other societies where homosexuality is legal, they think Islam will vanish if queer people were to live in Afghanistan. The Taliban believes that Sharia dictates them to wipe out the queer community. That is their priority. 

Host:
Exactly.

SM:
That’s why when they came to power again, they were committed to closely implement the Islamic rules, banning women from public spaces, and oppressing queer people so that Afghanistan would return to twenty years ago when the Taliban were in power.

The Taliban had realised, though, that the young people’s mindset had changed significantly. The former minister of Higher Education had believed that, too, saying most are distancing themselves from religion. 

I was in Kabul when I learned that some people refer to others as being “Lut” (gay), and soon after, they are killed. (In the early days of the Taliban take over), there was a lot of violence; they (the Taliban soldiers) would shoot people for being “Lut”. 

Host: 
So that means they didn’t have any evidence, or there was no court? 

SM:
There were no courts. I was also threatened and asked to do some things; otherwise, I would be handed over to the Taliban. This is why I left Kabul again for Herat, and I have been on the run since.

Host: 
Did you personally know anyone who was shot?

SM:
Well, where are those who disappeared (if not shot dead)? What was the charge against them? Some families believe that their sons were killed. What was the reason? Because they hadn’t broken any laws. Why were they killed in their homes or out on the streets? Or kidnapped and tortured?

I was in Herat when I got calls from unknown numbers warning me that they were coming after me. I had some money, bought a ticket to Nimrooz and travelled there. I knew two other queer people who were on their way to Iran (so that’s why I was going there, too). The only thing I wrote on my Facebook page was, “Wherever you are, save yourselves, however, you can. Leave; the Taliban are here”. All my Facebook pages were deleted. The LGBTIQ community was slowly becoming more self-aware, and some had gradually started being active on social media. (For example) when I’d upload informative posts on my pages, some users would also be encouraged to do their research and populate their social media accounts to raise awareness. Some would (use social media) to open up, to talk about their feelings and pains. 

(But) everything was destroyed, and I had to cross the border to Iran without a visa and experienced many discomforts; a car hit me and injured my back, and I fell and sprained my foot.

Host:
On your way to Iran? At the border?

SM:
Yeah. When I got there, my health had been deteriorating. I was in bed for a week because of my back injury, and I couldn’t move. I didn’t know much about Iranian society. All I knew was that they were not on good terms with Afghans. I thought of it as a society that boasts about culture and modernity but despises the Afghan refugees. 

I slowly recovered and created another fake Facebook account, only to realise that nobody was active there. And if there were a few, they were recent users. I started gathering information about their society (and its perception of the queer community) but discovered that it’s the same as Afghanistan’s. I talked to some LGBTIQ Iranian activists who were very active on Twitter and asked if they knew what being LGBTIQ meant. They laughed and said they had known what it meant for a long time. I knew that Afghans were not that informed, but I expected the Iranians to be because their country has been safe (for years). They also told me that the Iranian queer community is being oppressed and that they are not accepted by the government, society, or their families. 

Having heard that, I concluded that in every Islamic country, there’s oppression (of the queer community), and Afghanistan has the most heightened violence (against the community). In Afghanistan, they (the Taliban) do everything they can to (identify and) capture a person. Someone starts getting close to you and chats with you (online) for months to become your friend. When you finally trust and want to meet him, the same person arrests you. 

Just imagine somebody is willing to spend months to arrest one individual, to deceive them and bait them. I don’t see any future for a society like that. The situation of the LGBTIQ Afghans is terrifying. There’s a lack of awareness-raising. Some can’t go to school. How would they be able to use social media? 

Host:
Let’s take a break and continue our chat after. 

Is this ok? So, Shahriyar, you and I have come inside where it’s quieter, and no choppers are flying over our heads. That reminds me of Kabul sometimes. 

I wanted to ask you another question: The Taliban came to power, and you decided that you must leave, no matter what. Can you tell me about your journey? What was the situation like? I think the Taliban had launched their house-to-house raids around the same time. 

SM:
Before I travelled to Iran, I had submitted asylum applications to a few counties that had announced that they would accept Afghan refugees and vulnerable groups but did not mention the LGBTIQ community. I thought that was expected because if they didn’t know that queer people exist in the country, they wouldn’t name them. 

With a friend’s help, I applied to France, Canada, the U.K., and Germany. My mind was so distressed those days. I was depressed and wouldn’t recognise friends anymore. For example, I would receive emails but wouldn’t understand what they were about. My condition would improve one day but get worse the next. Some suggested interviewing me so that my voice could be heard. They mentioned that some countries might pay attention if I do the interviews. I did so and talked about my situation. A while later, my friend suggested I check my emails for any news regarding my asylum applications. When I showed him one of the emails, he congratulated me for receiving permission for admission to Germany. I couldn’t believe it. I had no financial support (to leave) because I wasn’t in contact with my family. So my friend said he’d refer me to an organisation called ILGA Asia that could talk to me. 

Host:
That’s when you and I got in touch.

SM:
Yeah. When I contacted you, you said that ILGA Asia can support us and that we must look into the option of leaving Iran and if that doesn’t work, we should try Pakistan. Because I had entered Iran without a visa, the Iranian government wouldn’t let me leave via their country. So then I travelled back to Afghanistan. I was stopped multiple times at the border because of what I was wearing. 

Host:
What were you wearing?

SM: 
I had trousers on.

Host:
Like pants? 

SM:
Yeah. They (the Taliban) stopped me, saying what I was wearing was un-Islamic. 

Host:
So they wanted you to wear the traditional garments? 

SM: 
Yeah. They also told me what I was wearing was tight and that I must change. At the border, I remember I was slapped twice (because of this) but didn’t tell anyone about it. I thought it was normal to be treated like that. Mentally, I wasn’t ready to talk about everything I went through. 

After that, I went to Herat and stayed for a night. In the morning, I was in Kabul, where after checking into a hotel, I discovered that the Taliban had launched house-to-house raids. Every house they’d enter, they would turn it upside down and tear people’s documents, passports and national ID cards. They would arrest and take away those that were former military or employees of the former government. It didn’t matter, man or woman. 

The Taliban would also search the hotels to discover where the guests had travelled from. Their intelligence was so strong that they knew if those that they were looking for were not in their houses, they probably would be staying at hotels. 

So I took my backpack and left the hotel using a back door. I had all of my documents with me, and I had my phone that contained information about my activism – my interview was in there, my contacts, everything. So I ran to another hotel. 

I was financially supported, but it wasn’t enough. Everything was expensive. There were economic sanctions, and there was a ban on food imports, so everything was pricier. I really didn’t have enough money. If I paid for the hotel, I wouldn’t be able to pay for my transport to Pakistan. Or if I’d paid for the hotel, I wouldn’t be able to afford food. Some of my friends had the same issue. 

I told myself I should continue this route. If I had made it this far, I should go on. So I arranged a car (to take me across the border). I went downstairs to pick up another friend – also LGBTIQ – who I wanted to take with me to Pakistan because he also had a humanitarian visa. When I went outside, I was surrounded by the Taliban soldiers. It felt like they were ambushing an enemy. I was startled because they appeared out of nowhere. What did they want with a civilian? Without any words, they started flogging me. Their whips were spiked so one strike would paralyse the body. After being flogged a few times, I felt unconscious. I couldn’t feel anything and couldn’t tell where I was. I tried pinching myself but couldn’t feel a thing. 

I asked them why they did that, to which they replied because I was alone, I was outside, my outfit was not appropriate, my hair was short, and I didn’t have a beard. They also asked what I was doing there. 

I said that I was picking up a friend and that they started flogging me out of nowhere. I didn’t know what I had done wrong. They wanted to see my phone, and I objected to that, saying there were pictures of my family in it. Pictures of my mother and my sister. They didn’t persist but asked for my national ID card. I lied and said I don’t have it on me and left it at home. They flogged me two more times, but my body was still numb. I only felt a heavy strike on my body. 

One of them (the Taliban soldiers) wanted to buttstroke me but was stopped by the other one saying that I was just a kid. 

My friend was hiding far away because he saw me, so he didn’t come any closer. Maybe if he had come forward and told the soldiers that I was telling the truth, I would have been flogged less, but I was happy that he didn’t do that because he would have been arrested. 

So my friend and I went back to the hotel. I wasn’t feeling well, but I was trying to control myself because my body was so numb. The car (that I had arranged) picked us up around 2 a.m. I gave (the driver) only half of the transport fees because I was broke, and promised to pay the full amount soon. The person who was coordinating this transport was very kind, and I think because she was a woman she felt sorry for me, so she accepted my payment suggestion. She said she’d guarantee my safety and would help me cross, so I started to travel to Pakistan.