In the heart of Kabul, behind steel gates and barbed wire, lies a critical but seldom-discussed sanctuary for women suffering from mental illness—the women's wing of the Afghan Red Crescent Society (ARCS) mental health centre, known locally as Qala or "the fortress." The centre, which is the largest of its kind in Afghanistan, houses 104 women, many of whom are trapped by circumstances exacerbated by a tumultuous socio-political landscape.
Access to the facility, which is overburdened with patients, reveals troubling stories like that of Mariam*, a woman in her mid-20s who has faced years of abuse and neglect. She recalls a life marred by domestic violence at the hands of her brothers, who deemed it unacceptable for her to leave home unaccompanied due to entrenched cultural norms. After being set adrift by family abandonment, Mariam was brought to Qala, where she has found a semblance of stability for nine years—yet she is unable to leave due to the lack of safe options in a society that often leaves women vulnerable and dependent.
"I don't expect to return to my father and mother. I want to marry someone here in Kabul," Mariam says, her frustration evident as she considers the harsh realities of her restricted future.
Another patient, 28-year-old Habiba, mirrors Mariam's plight. Forced into the centre by her husband after he took a second wife, Habiba longs for her children but finds herself isolated and without support. Their stories are painfully typical; many women in the centre have faced their own tragic narratives of abandonment, often augmented by Afghanistan's severe restrictions on women's rights under Taliban rule.
The mental health crisis is further compounded by a broader societal issue where, according to UN reports, 68% of women in Afghanistan report having “bad” or “very bad” mental health. Dr. Abdul Wali Utmanzai, a senior psychiatrist based in Kabul, emphasizes how economic instability and lack of support structures leave many women struggling with mental illness yet unable to seek help due to patriarchal regulations mandating male guardianship.
Despite the Taliban government's claim of commitment to women’s rights, conditions in the mental health sector indicate a dire lack of resources. Increasing numbers of women face an uncertain future, with the facility's waiting list growing longer as stories of neglect echo throughout the country. Tragically, some patients, like the young Zainab—a mere 16 years old—find themselves with no alternatives for treatment, their circumstances rendered more desperate as families grapple with stigma and societal shame.
As the situation unfolds, the plight of women in Afghanistan serves as a striking reminder of the systemic issues of mental health care failing in a society caught between tradition and an oppressive political regime. Whether women like Mariam, Habiba, and Zainab will continue to reside in Qala indefinitely remains unclear, as they navigate a path fraught with cultural barriers, personal trauma, and a lack of resources to support them in their most vulnerable moments.
