No haven for returning refugees

By Soutik Biswas BBC News Online correspondent in Kabul

Zai's family says life was better as refugees in Karachi

Salar Zai is an imposing and proud man who looks much older than his 55 years and lives with his family of 18 in a shanty town on the outskirts of Kabul.

Now he is a broken man. "I was a refugee outside my country. Now I am a refugee in my own land," says Zai, standing on the dusty, potholed road to Paktia province that runs alongside his tented home.

Until eight years ago, when the Taleban swept into Afghanistan's capital, Zai, a soldier-turned-school-headmaster, was leading a reasonably comfortable life on his $400 a month salary.

He and his family had braved the bloody civil war in Kabul and stayed on, but the Taleban's arrival forced them to leave home and go to Pakistan.

Life was good in Karachi... much better compared to here Salar Zai Exile returns to help women

"The Taleban were stubborn and ignorant. Afghanistan slid badly after they arrived. So I picked up my savings and left my country," says Zai.

Destroyed

The family took nine days to reach Karachi by road from Kabul.

Diarrhoea and dysentery are common in the family's camp

In Karachi, says Zai, he taught Afghan refugees at a "school which propagated the message that peace, not war, was the solution to our problems". He calls it a "centre for correction of society".

Two of his sons, Sibghatullah and Izzat, sold vegetables and worked at a poppadum factory.

After the US-led war against the Taleban ended three years ago, Zai and his family returned in search of a better life and greater dignity.

They found their city in ruins and their old home destroyed.

Zai's family are among the more than 2.26 million Afghans who have returned to their homeland since the end of the war, according to a United Nations estimate.

Executions

Three years on Zai and his family, like many other returnees, are still without a home and jobs.

They eke out a miserable life in a warren of tents in three refugee camps that house 350 families in the bleak Chaman Huzuri neighbourhood.

I have gone to the Americans, I have gone to the Germans looking for a job, any job. But I've had no luck Izzat Khan

It is dotted with bombed-out music schools and the "Institute of Cultural Heritage".

The only signs of life are a sprawling, unkempt playground where children kick balls in the evenings and two dimly-lit gyms.

Not far away is the Kabul stadium that gained worldwide infamy during the Taleban regime for religious executions every Friday.

"Life was good in Karachi... much better compared to here," says Zai wistfully.

His family is sandwiched into three tiny tents. The camps have irregular water supply and grimy, temporary bathrooms. Diarrhoea and dysentery are common.

During Kabul's harsh winters, many old people light up mud ovens to keep themselves warm and choke on charcoal smoke. Others die of hunger.

Zai's 19-year-old son, Sibghatullah, who never returned to school after leaving his country, has set up a small tent on the main road and sells melons for a living.

Two other sons, Wahidullah, 12, and Hekmatullah, 11, work in a run-down garage learning to repair cars but get paid nothing because the owner insists that they are still "training".

We have been betrayed by own government Sibghatullah

"We have been betrayed by our own government. They asked us to return home and join in the reconstruction of Afghanistan. But our lives have worsened and we haven't even got a home," says Sibghatullah.

At school, his four children are often chided by their teachers for wearing dirty clothes.

"It is a life of sheer indignity," he says.

"There are no jobs for most of us, and the policemen sometimes come and take away my melons without paying."

Elder brother, Izzat Khan, 22, tried to do some trading and bought a cheap Chinese motorcycle to pick up melons and other wares from provincial markets, but is now deep in debt.

"I have gone to the Americans, I have gone to the Germans looking for a job, any job. But I've had no luck," he says.

Bargaining

The family's only glimmer of hope seems to be the presidential elections.

"I have high hopes for the polls, though my father is sceptical. I am confident that an elected leader will give us homes, jobs, and security," says Izzat.

One day, he hopes to be a successful trader, buying things from Pakistan and India and selling them in the bustling bazaars of Kabul.

Dreams die hard for Izzat, but other members of his family remain cynical.

"Till we unite our people, peace and prosperity will never come to Afghanistan," says Zai.

As dusk falls, a man pulls up in a white pick-up at his son's melon tent to check out the fruit.

"Juicy melons at 50 Afghanis each!" shouts Sibghatullah.

The man in the pick-up bargains ferociously and drives off without buying.

"See, it's not easy to even sell melons here, because everybody else is selling them," says Sibghatullah.

It's not easy being a refugee in your own land.