Up Close and Personal - The Photograph : Nuzhat Shahzadi

It was the first week of my new life in UNICEF-Herat. I was trying to settle down into an active war zone––a novelty and some unease. My entire life packed in a small suitcase, living in a one-room residence in a sort of a “Baraack” at the UN Multi-agency compound was new to me. The colleagues were friendly and guided me to find my footing. I was ready and I wasn’t, really.

As I was coming back from the office one late afternoon my land Cruiser passed another UNICEF-vehicle and a very familiar face loomed out through its passenger seat window. We stopped. It was no other than my old friend, UNICEF photographer, Shehzad Noorani! We rolled down the windows and hollered greetings. He was commissioned by UNICEF-Kabul.

Sahil, Communication Assistant from Kabul, was with him, showing him around. No one in my office had mentioned about this mission. Sahil introduced himself and the purpose of the mission. Boy, I was so glad to see Shehzad!

Shehzad and I began our careers in UNICEF-Programme Communication and Information section (PCIS) in the Dhaka office. The office telephone operators played a big role in making us friends–– they would mistakenly connect his calls to me and mine to him: “Shehzad––Shahzadi” created unmistakable confusion.

Shehzad covered a lot of fieldwork I was involved in (in Bangladesh). We also crossed paths in ROSA-Kathmandu and in UNICEF-Trincomalee, Sri Lanka during the Muthur crisis (2006). In our own ways we were trying to convey the pain of the IDPs to the entire world.

I welcomed him at my new one-room abode. I had no snacks to offer––tried to make tea on my tiny stove heater that had an “S” shaped wire on the inside. I used it for the first time, actually. I was so inexperienced that Shehzad worried I might get electrocuted. But I survived and successfully made tea for us. We had a long chat about Herat––the stories of desperation that he tried to capture with his camera.

Girls attending classes in torn tents at the Haitifi School, Herat City -

Photo credit Shehzad Noorani

Shehzad showed me one particular photograph he had taken recently––hundreds of girls were attending classes in roofless, temporary classrooms under the scorching sun in Haitifi School. I was struck with an inexplicable emotion . . . children attending school under adverse conditions wasn’t new to me. During wars and natural disasters and poverty and hunger, children don’t give up their zeal to learn. Their indomitable spirits can’t be defeated.

I promised Shehzad I would personally visit the school. There were numerous competing life saving priorities we needed to address immediately. So, it took me a few months but I kept my promise.

Haitifi was a high school that catered students from grades I to XII. Around 10,000 children were enrolled at the time (2007-2008) out of which the maximum numbers were girls who attended classes in two shifts. (If I remember correctly, boys attended only up to class V.) It was crowded beyond capacity. About 600 girls had to sit under the sun in torn tents for hours to learn mathematics and history, language and science. Shehzad Noorani’s camera had boldly immortalized their predicament.

Haitifi School : Photo credit - Nuzhat Shahzadi

On the first day of school (2008), I visited Haitifi. The girls mobbed me and demanded for additional classrooms. I spent hours with them discussing their problems, their dreams and aspirations

“The sun is too hot in summer, the wind is freezing in winter . . . but we want to learn . . . Sada e maan! Intekhab e maan!(My voice! My choice . . . to become what I want to be),” they voiced in unison.

The girls wanted to become scientists, play wrights, journalists, beauticians, artists or doctors––like many other girls who lived in South Asia. They made a promise to me that they would negotiate with their fathers to send them to Herat University after completion of school.

So I had no choice . . . but to step forward and help the girls!

As an interim response UNICEF-Herat provided eight tents to Haitifi and tarpaulins to mend the existing torn tents used as classrooms. Later, we funded the construction of extra five classrooms and rehabilitated the toilets and water points. UNICEF-Kandahar field office could not spend the regular resource (RR) funds allocated to them due to the security situation and offered it to other offices. We readily accepted it and some additional uncommitted funds from them. In six months the classrooms were built.

And I wrote to Shehzad.

I went back to Haitifi several times during my four-year stint in Herat. The many discussions I had with the girls helped me to steer our strategies to addressing the needs of adolescent girls in Herat. We introduced and sponsored innovative programmes in fifteen girls’ schools in Herat City, initially. Our support gave courage to the girls to color their dreams . . .

Haitifi School - According to OCHA, some classes for girls in Herat have resumed but only for grades 1 to 6. There is still no clear policy on classes for older girls or for those in other parts of the country. Photo credit : Sayed Bidel, UNICEF

Eleven years later, living in the US, I learned that Haitifi School has been reopened by the Taliban––allowing girls to attend up to class VI only! Two nights ago, Tom McDermott, our Chief Editor shared the news with me.

It was the last message I read that night. It broke my heart. I lay sleepless in my bed.

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