In search of some distraction, Arzo watched make-up tutorials on her phone as the bright screen illuminated her sun-deprived complexion. She was far from her homeland in Afghanistan, where she lived with her family before being smuggled across the border for medical treatment.
Her brother Ahmed and sister Mahsa now tended to her in a rented room in Karachi, a temporary haven from life under the Taliban's rule.
"Don't worry," Ahmed whispered, giving Arzo a comforting squeeze of the hand. "It will be okay. Don't worry, we're always here. I hope things get better for you soon."
CNN chose to withhold Arzo's and her siblings' real names out of fear of Taliban retaliation and potential detection by Pakistani authorities. Since the announcement of heightened measures against undocumented immigrants in October, Pakistani authorities have deported over 26,000 Afghans.
Arzo's family expressed concerns that a forced return to Afghanistan would have proven fatal for her due to the lack of proper medical care they perceived as available there.
The siblings often shied away from discussing Arzo's struggles, fearing they might burden her. Arzo cried softly as they shared their stories with CNN.
A Determined Spirit
Arzo and her sisters danced in jeans and barefoot to music in their Afghan home, laughing and twirling with abandon.
Ahmed revealed that the video was taken six months after the Taliban took control of the country in August 2021. Schools were closed, but her sisters remained optimistic about their reopening.
However, the Taliban's reign, from 1996 to 2001, gradually enforced an oppressive policy that diminished the role of women in society. Although they had initially pledged not to do so, women were barred from accessing most jobs, universities, national parks, and fitness studios; they were also denied the freedom to visit public places without a male escort.
Girls were no longer offered education beyond the sixth grade.
Martha had completed high school but Arzo still had three more years to go.
As their local school shut down, their caring father sent his daughters to a Kabul educational center to learn English, but even that closed eventually.
Following her return, Martha began working as a seamstress to fill her hours. However, Arzo fell into a deep depression.
'"Mostly, she said, ‘I wish we could leave this place, I don't want to be here, uneducated. I want to be a doctor.’ That's what she used to say," reminisced Mahsa, recalling Arzo's words.
One July day, Martha descended the stairs and noticed that Arzo gazed back with large, forlorn eyes.
"I asked her, 'What's wrong?' and she said she had been drinking acid. I didn't believe it, so I stuck my finger in her mouth and she vomited blood," Martha recounted.
Doctors confirmed that suicide rates were on the rise
Experts warned that Afghanistan rarely provided reliable suicide statistics, but human rights groups and doctors reported an increase in self-harm among women under Taliban rule.
Doctor Hikmat Ahmadi, who works six days a week, more than ever, treats patients in a psychiatric clinic in the Herat province of western Afghanistan. Using a pseudonym to protect himself from Taliban reprisals for his interviews with foreign media, he shared that the number of female patients in his clinic had increased by 40-50% since the Taliban took power two years ago. Up to 10% of his patients had actually committed suicide, he estimated.
He explained that impoverished women and girls, whose freedoms were chipped away under the Taliban's rule, started attempting suicide using readily available household items like pesticides, cleaning fluids, and agricultural fertilizers – anything they believed might help alleviate their sorrow.
He did his best to assure them that things would improve, that schools would reopen, and that they could find ways to pass the time during exile by adapting or engaging in activities that gave their lives meaning.
But the truth was, he wasn't entirely sure whether schools would resume operations, and his own hopes were dwindling.
"I see no good future for anyone in this country," he sighed.
Another Group of Girls
That group of young girls had just completed the sixth grade – the end of their education under the conditions set by the Taliban's regime.
Doctor Ahmadi feared that this marked the beginning of another wave of self-harm and suicide attempts.
"Last year, everyone hoped that schools would reopen next year," he remarked.
"But this year, the schools remained closed. This has eroded their hope." I sense that suicide rates will continue to rise. "
CNN reached out to the Taliban for comment on reports of rising suicide rates among women.
In response, the Taliban Foreign Ministry asserted, in a statement to the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights in January, that suicide rates among women had decreased since their return to power.
"For the last 20 years, there have been many cases of suicide among women, but thanks to divine grace, there are no such cases anymore," the statement read. However, this claim contradicted several reports, including those from UN experts, who stated in July that there were widespread reports of depression and suicidal thoughts, particularly among teenage girls without access to education.
The Taliban Regains Power
Born in 2008, Arzo was seven years old when U.S. and allied forces, accused of harboring Al-Qaeda terrorists, invaded Afghanistan, ousting the Taliban leadership. Despite years of violent conflict under a government supported by the West, women's lives improved under the subsequent government. Many went to school, completed their education, and became role models for girls like Arzo and Martha.
But in 2021, everything changed. As the U.S. and its allies began withdrawing troops and creating an opportunity for Taliban insurgents to regroup in rural areas of Afghanistan and Pakistan, the Taliban returned to power.
According to human rights groups, the Taliban had established a foothold in urban centers again and imposed their radical Islamic ideology, commissioning extrajudicial killings, arbitrary arrests, and illegal imprisonments of individuals perceived as threats to their leadership[1].
When the chaos of their takeover ensued, women were initially advised to stay indoors due to the insurgents' alleged lack of respect for them. The restrictions subsequently grew more severe, and millions of girls and women were effectively confined to their homes, risking punishment if they did not comply[1].
Ayesha Ahmad, associate professor of Global Health Humanities at St. George's University in London, conducted extensive interviews with Afghan women who had fled domestic violence prior to the Taliban's takeover.
"I will never forget that day, the nervous phone calls and desperate communication, and my sense of dread that reality would not be kind," she recalled.
She described how the number of women exposed to violence had increased, and that some had come to believe that suicide was their only option, despite the societal and familial shame it would bring.
"Suicide is considered a sin in Islam, and women are not regarded as victims in the context of religious extremism," she explained.
The insensitive Taliban leaders who had set this disaster in motion showed little empathy, as Afghan women sought support abroad.
Heather Barr, deputy director of women's rights at Human Rights Watch, stated that Afghan women were concerned that the world would begin to accept this as the new normal.
"Everyone shook their shoulders and said, ‘Well, that's just Afghanistan.’ That was intolerable for all of us." As a result of events in Afghanistan and the way the international community reacted or failed to react, the consequences extended beyond the country, affecting women's rights worldwide. A profound impact.", she said.
"I weep for their future"
Ahmed was not in Afghanistan in July when his sister drank acid.
Fearful of Taliban reprisals for his reporting prior to their takeover, he had fled to Pakistan. Describing his ordeal to CNN, Ahmed revealed that his father and uncle had taken Arzo to a local doctor, who prescribed medication and suggested they go to Kabul if Arzo's condition worsened.
In Kabul, an doctor assessed Arzo's condition and determined that the acid had damaged her esophagus and stomach. Arzo needed the operation, but her chance of survival was slim.
So, they decided to bring her to Karachi, where another doctor inserted a feeding tube into her stomach.
It had been three months. Since then, Arzo had continued to lose weight, now weighing roughly 25 kilograms, Ahmed reported.
"She might not make it," he sighed in January. "Maybe they won't perform the operation."
Martha sat on the bed, her needle piercing the fabric with surgical precision. Her focus was unwavering as she worked to create something beautiful, her mind absorbed in the task. She yearned to return to school, but the priority now was caring for her sister.
"I couldn't sleep at night because she was in so much pain," Martha said.
The siblings knew they took a significant risk by speaking out – they feared the Taliban's influence in Pakistan and worried for their parents, still living in Afghanistan.
But they were desperate.
They couldn't work, the siblings lamented, and they didn't possess the 5,000 USD needed for Arzo's operation, nor the money to cover the rent, food, and medication they required.
They barely dared to think about what would happen if they ran out of money or if Pakistani authorities paid them a visit.
Since the Pakistani government announced in October that they would no longer tolerate the presence of nearly 400 undocumented Afghans, over 1,000 individuals have returned to Afghanistan, according to United Nations reports and the International Organization for Migration[2].
Most departed voluntarily due to fear of arrest[2].
In October, the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) had called on Pakistan to halt deportations, warning that the deportees would face serious human rights violations.
Spokesperson Ravina Shamdasani declared, "Among the most at risk are activists of civil society, journalists, human rights defenders, former government officials, and security forces personnel, and of course, women and girls."
Pakistan defended its program to expel illegal immigrants (IFRP) and claimed that it was acting in compliance with international norms and principles[2].
Ahmed hoped to find a peaceful haven where his sisters could resume their studies, their careers, and their lives as they had always planned. He understood that returning to Afghanistan was not an option, especially for Arzo.
"If she goes back, she'll face the same fate. It's better to live in peace and continue her education and treatment properly".
Now they reside within the confines of their rented room, consumed by worry over the young girl who once danced barefoot at home, but has since fought to maintain her will to live.
"I won't weep in front of her, but I'll cry and kiss her goodnight, worried about her future, her treatment – will she survive this illness?" Ahmed concluded.
Read also:
Arzo's siblings wish to return to Afghanistan to support her family, but their concern is Taliban retribution due to their collaboration with Pakistani authorities.
Arzo's parents may grieve her absence, but they are grateful for their siblings' aid and the rented room in Karachi where they can work and care for themselves.
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