The plight of women in Afghanistan's mental health care system is dire, with many trapped in institutions like Qala, where lack of resources and patriarchal norms prevent them from seeking independence or support. Their stories expose the urgent need for change in the face of entrenched socio-political challenges.
The Silent Crisis: Afghan Women's Struggles Within a Failing Mental Health System

The Silent Crisis: Afghan Women's Struggles Within a Failing Mental Health System
As Afghanistan's restrictive environment intensifies, women trapped in mental health centres reflect the stark realities of a society grappling with gender inequality and inadequate support.
Article Text:
In Kabul, behind formidable gates and barbed wire, a hidden struggle unfolds at the women's wing of the Afghan Red Crescent Society's mental health centre, known as Qala. With a patient count of 104 and growing, the facility serves as one of the few dedicated spaces for women grappling with mental health issues in Afghanistan, where deeply ingrained patriarchal norms and stringent Taliban regulations create barriers to care and independence.
Among the women at Qala is Mariam*, a spirited woman in her mid-20s who has been in the centre for nine long years, largely due to her family's violence and rejection. Her resilience shines, often seen singing and volunteering, yet she remains trapped with no safe path to freedom. "I refuse to go back to my family; they abandoned me," she declares, expressing a desire to forge a life in Kabul instead.
Habiba, another patient, offers a parallel narrative of suffering. At 28, she too is ready for discharge, having been pushed away by her husband after he married again, leaving her with no option but to seek refuge at Qala. With her children placed elsewhere and contact severed, she longs for reconnection yet faces the unforgiving realities of Afghan society, where women often rely entirely on men for support.
The centre's director, Saleema Halib, underscores the tragic commonality of these stories, claiming many patients are effectively abandoned by family. This issue holds a wider significance, amplified by the Taliban's recent actions that degrade women's rights. A striking 68% of women have reported poor mental health, compounded by a cultural stigma surrounding mental illness, which hampers understanding and accessibility to care.
Despite the Taliban government's insistence on safeguarding women’s rights, data paints a contrasting picture—a significant rise in mental health issues correlates with the regime's oppressive measures. Restrictions on women's movement further complicate treatment accessibility; many women cannot seek necessary help without a male escort. This creates a troubling feedback loop: as women remain confined within centres like Qala, fewer resources exist to assist new patients.
Stories like that of 16-year-old Zainab illustrate the extreme lengths families will go to conceal and control mental health issues. Confined for years and facing horrific experiences as a child, Zainab's tale reveals the urgency for change in a system operating on the margins of ethical care.
As the Taliban's grip remains tight and societal norms linger, the future for these women remains uncertain. Qala stands as a microcosm of a larger societal challenge: addressing the mental health crisis while contending with deep-rooted challenges facing Afghan women. Whether the health system can adapt and expand to meet their needs, and whether these women will find autonomy and support, hangs in the balance.
*The names of the patients and their families have been changed to protect their identities.
In Kabul, behind formidable gates and barbed wire, a hidden struggle unfolds at the women's wing of the Afghan Red Crescent Society's mental health centre, known as Qala. With a patient count of 104 and growing, the facility serves as one of the few dedicated spaces for women grappling with mental health issues in Afghanistan, where deeply ingrained patriarchal norms and stringent Taliban regulations create barriers to care and independence.
Among the women at Qala is Mariam*, a spirited woman in her mid-20s who has been in the centre for nine long years, largely due to her family's violence and rejection. Her resilience shines, often seen singing and volunteering, yet she remains trapped with no safe path to freedom. "I refuse to go back to my family; they abandoned me," she declares, expressing a desire to forge a life in Kabul instead.
Habiba, another patient, offers a parallel narrative of suffering. At 28, she too is ready for discharge, having been pushed away by her husband after he married again, leaving her with no option but to seek refuge at Qala. With her children placed elsewhere and contact severed, she longs for reconnection yet faces the unforgiving realities of Afghan society, where women often rely entirely on men for support.
The centre's director, Saleema Halib, underscores the tragic commonality of these stories, claiming many patients are effectively abandoned by family. This issue holds a wider significance, amplified by the Taliban's recent actions that degrade women's rights. A striking 68% of women have reported poor mental health, compounded by a cultural stigma surrounding mental illness, which hampers understanding and accessibility to care.
Despite the Taliban government's insistence on safeguarding women’s rights, data paints a contrasting picture—a significant rise in mental health issues correlates with the regime's oppressive measures. Restrictions on women's movement further complicate treatment accessibility; many women cannot seek necessary help without a male escort. This creates a troubling feedback loop: as women remain confined within centres like Qala, fewer resources exist to assist new patients.
Stories like that of 16-year-old Zainab illustrate the extreme lengths families will go to conceal and control mental health issues. Confined for years and facing horrific experiences as a child, Zainab's tale reveals the urgency for change in a system operating on the margins of ethical care.
As the Taliban's grip remains tight and societal norms linger, the future for these women remains uncertain. Qala stands as a microcosm of a larger societal challenge: addressing the mental health crisis while contending with deep-rooted challenges facing Afghan women. Whether the health system can adapt and expand to meet their needs, and whether these women will find autonomy and support, hangs in the balance.
*The names of the patients and their families have been changed to protect their identities.