Faisabad, Afghanistan-The Taliban prison is a destroyed house, a cave, a dirty basement in an abandoned house or a village mosque. Jumping or worse is definite, sentences are indeterminate. The food (if any) is stale bread and cold beans. The bed is floor or dirty carpet. The threat of screaming, yelling, and sometimes even causing death has always been there.
The peaceful 60-year-old farmer Malik Mohammadi watched the Taliban kill his 32-year-old son, officer Nasrullah, in one of these prisons. For nine days last year, Nasrullah, an epilepsy patient, was denied medication by the kidnappers. He was refused to eat. His father saw his mouth bleed, beaten and bruised. On the tenth day, he died.
This suppression is part of the Taliban’s strategy to control the territory under its rule. Although Qatar’s Afghan government and Taliban negotiators properly discussed the topics of the talks, and although the real peace ideas have faded, the reality is that the rebels have occupied most of the country. The imminent withdrawal of the United States, coupled with the weak Afghan security forces, which are almost incapable of self-defense, means that the organization may maintain this power and its cruel way of yielding.
One of the Taliban’s most frightening tools is a loose prison network, a temporary island of torture and suffering, in which the insurgents impose severe summary sentences on their fellow Afghans, arbitrarily stopping them on the highway. Usually, they are looking for soldiers and government workers. The government has also been accused of ill-treatment in prisons, and the United Nations recently discovered that nearly one-third of prisoners in the Afghan army have been tortured.
In the Taliban case, the detainees are held in hidden temporary prisons. This is a world of imprisonment. Unfortunately, allegations are often moved day after day from destroyed houses to isolated mosques and then back again. It is totally unknown how long they were detained. The detention will continue. This method is nothing more than discrimination.
“It has been reverberating in my dreamland,” said Sayed Hiatullah, a 42-year-old shopkeeper in Faizabad. Last year, Mr. Hiatullah was falsely accused of working in national security at the Taliban checkpoint. He was imprisoned for 25 days.
He said: “I woke up and screamed.” “That was the darkest and most painful period of my life. I was shocked for six months,” Mr. Shiatura said.
Atiqullah Hassanzada, a 31-year-old former soldier, spoke on the floor of his home on his way to a military hospital in Kabul last year. He said: “I can recover 100% of my memory every second, every minute, every minute.” He said: “I was beaten on the back and shoulders of my thighs.”
Faizabad is the northernmost town in Afghanistan and the capital of Badakhshan Province. Many former prisoners of the Taliban live here because the insurgents control many roads from here to the capital Kabul. Embarking on this journey means contacting the Taliban checkpoint and capturing them.
In Faizabad, the Taliban’s technique is to detain and punish first, and then ask questions. There are no judges and no courts. The local villagers were forced to provide food. Although thousands of Afghans have been detained in this way, there are no statistics. The Afghan special forces said that they recently released more than 40 detainees from the Taliban prison in Baghlan Province, which is not unusual in local news broadcasts. The Afghan Ministry of Defense said that another 23 people were released in Kunduz Province on Monday following “widespread torture” by the Taliban.
The consequence of these arbitrary imprisonment is one of terror. Mr. Hiatura said: “I beg them to cry and release me.” “They will beat me even more.”
“The Taliban stopped the vehicle and arrested me,” Naqibullah Momand said when he went to his home in Kunduz province last year. The 26-year-old TV host said: “They put their hands on my heart and check my heartbeat.”
For the Taliban, a quick defeat will show that he feels guilty. Mr. Momand forced himself to remain calm, but he still spent the last 29 days locked in a two-bedroom house with 20 other people, sleeping on a dirty carpet on the floor, lit with a light bulb all night, kidnapping The author admitted that he was not previously a member of the Afghan army.
Capture is only the beginning of torture. Local commanders are usually very young and have unlimited control over prisoners.
“The low-level Taliban behaved very badly,” said Fazul-Ahmad Aamaj, an elderly semi-official mediator in Faizabad, who is a Pakistani About 15 of the most famous mediators in Badakhshan. Those arrested by relatives often turn to Mr. Aamaj for help. Through negotiations with his family, clan elders and money, he ensured the release of dozens of prisoners of the organization.
Rahmatullah Danishjo, a university student, was tied up on his way to Kabul from Wardak Province in September 2019 and taken to a village mosque. Like other prisoners, the Holy Land has hardly proven to be a refuge.
For local commanders, the mosque is an ideal prison. “This is the center of the village; in many villages, the mosque is synonymous with the Taliban.” said Ashley Jackson, co-director of the Armed Groups Research Center, who has extensively studied the judicial situation of the Taliban. “This is how they enforced behavior.”
The Taliban also has a parallel network of civil courts in which religious scholars hear land disputes and family disputes. These courts have gained a reputation for efficiency with swift judgments and are welcomed by many Afghans, especially when compared to the government’s corrupt judicial system. The Taliban courts also tried murders and perceived moral and religious violations. The point here is “punishment”. Human Rights Watch said in a report last year that the system “relies on beatings and other forms of torture.”
Considered as a political crime, such as working for or fighting for the Afghan government, living in a different world. There is no court for such crimes. Human Rights Watch said that local Taliban commanders “absolutely have the right to arrest anyone they consider suspicious.”
Mohammed Aman, a 31-year-old government engineer, said that one afternoon last November, he was handcuffed and taken to the mosque on the highway from Ghazni to Kabul. He said: “There are still 10 to 11 people in the mosque handcuffed to chains.” “We prayed early in the morning. They came and they defeated us,” said Mr. Danishjo, who was locked in another mosque.
“They beat us with clubs for about five minutes. They beat us behind.” He said. “They are beating us.”
Abdel Qadir Sharifi, 25, said: “One of the Taliban frightened us in the courtyard of the mosque.” “I believe they will kill me.”
Death is a perpetual threat, sometimes a threat, but more often it is used to obtain the terrible bargaining chip the Taliban want: money, prisoner exchanges or painful promises to give up government services. There have also been incidents of deliberate, often slow, execution of prisoners.
During Nasrallah’s brief imprisonment, Mr. Mohammedi and the village chief called his son to release him in exchange for Taliban prisoners. He was able to see his son three times.
“They tried to get him to sit up. But he kept falling.” Mr. Mohammedi recalled. The Taliban yelled to him: “‘Do you know what happened to your son?'”
The next day, the Taliban moved Nasrallah to a destroyed house. By the ninth day, he had lost consciousness. He was dirty, covered in urine and feces.
His kidnapper allowed Mr. Muhammad to wash him with cold water. But it was too late. “He is dying,” his father said. He said: “The last time I saw him, it was in the courtyard of a destroyed house.”
After his son died, the Taliban tortured him. “Why don’t you cry?” they asked. Mr. Mohammedi said: “I told them that I don’t want to cry in front of trees and rocks.”
“I cried alone,” he said.
His other son, the 35-year-old Kabul lawyer Rohullah Hamid (Rohullah Hamid), made a failed effort to release his brother. He said: “Every day dozens of Afghans are killed by the Taliban. The Taliban is the enemy of mankind.”
Najim Rahim Report from Faizabad, Taimoor Shah Taimoor Shah From Kandahar and Farooq Jan Mangal From Khost.