KABUL, Afghanistan -- Shazia is only 13. Her voice is barely audible.
Around adults, she bites her nails and tugs at her black chiffon scarf,
covering her face and hazel eyes.
She is one of the hardened criminals inside the dank and forbidding walls
of Kabul's Provincial Jail for women. Her crime: running away from the
45-year-old husband she was forced to marry.
In fact, the jail is filled with teenage girls accused of crimes ranging
from falling in love to having illicit affairs, from leaving unbending parents
to running away from abusive husbands.
Taliban-style executions may be gone, but Islamic law and rigid cultural
traditions persist in Afghanistan. The country still relies on Islamic law
dating to the 7th Century.
The U.S.-supported government of interim Prime Minister Hamid Karzai says
it still will uphold these laws, although perhaps not as strictly as the
Taliban. Islamic laws allow women the right to turn down their parents' choice
of husbands, but enforce harsh punishment for sex outside marriage.
Tribal laws, on the other hand, allow relatives to imprison and even kill
young women who lose their virginity, bring shame to their family by falling
in love with unacceptable suitors or even seek a divorce.
"I want a divorce," said Shazia, who like many Afghans does not have a last
name. "My husband beats me. I'm not happy with him."
Taliban punishments halted
In its zeal to enforce Islamic law, the Taliban chopped off the hands of
thieves in public stadiums and had family members shoot down murderers. If a
woman were to run away from her husband, she, too, would have been executed,
said the deputy of security in Kabul, Lt. Gen. Mohammed Khalil Aminzada. A
married woman who committed adultery would be stoned to death.
"Right now, we don't do that," Aminzada said. "We put them in prison for
three to four months. This is an Islamic society. If we let people do whatever
they want, half of society will soon suffer from AIDS."
There is little information about AIDS here, but the World Health
Organization reports 10 known cases in Afghanistan.
Aminzada said Kabul's police don't go out of their way to arrest runaways
or adulterers unless they feel it will create a threat to security or if
family members turn them in.
"Unless people complain, we do nothing," he said.
Among its many tasks, Afghanistan's interim government was supposed to
create a commission to plan the rebuilding of the criminal justice system and
to restore human rights as part of the Bonn agreement last fall. The
commission has yet to be established.
In the absence of new laws, the country's high court has gone back to using
the old Shariah laws of Islam, those in place before the Taliban. But they say
they will apply them more compassionately.
Since the Taliban's departure, there have been no stonings or whippings.
Those punishments could occur again some day, legal officials said, for repeat
offenders or if the evidence is strong in a case.
For example, under the strict standard set by Shariah law, a married man or
woman will be stoned to death for committing adultery if the accusation can be
substantiated by four male eyewitnesses.
Under the Taliban, says the head of Afghanistan's high court, Fazal Hadi
Shinwari, they didn't wait for four witnesses.
"It's very difficult to find four witnesses who can confirm the act," said
Shinwari, who has a long white beard, a copy of the Koran sitting on his desk
and a leather whip hanging on his wall.
"Of course the Taliban executed them without evidence, without any
confirmation. They did not use the real Shariah. They just wanted to scare
people. We're softer than them," he said.
Being softer in this case means imprisoning women for months or years
rather than killing them.
Teen jailed by family
So in the empty, dreary cells of the Kabul Provincial Jail sit young women
like Farayba, 19.
She and her lover went to the Taliban, hoping the former rulers would marry
them against their families' wishes. Instead, Taliban officials gave them
5-year jail sentences.
When the Taliban abandoned Kabul five months ago, Farayba escaped with 71
other women in the jail.
Her family was relatively wealthy; her father had been a commander in the
Ministry of Defense before the Taliban. When she chose to marry a poor man's
son, Farayba brought shame to her family, who wanted her to marry a cousin.
When she refused, her father, cousins and brothers beat her boyfriend's
father.
Fearing for their lives, the young lovers turned again to authorities, this
time from the interim government. "The police officials told me to marry my
cousin," she said. "I refused and so they said I should serve the rest of my
5-year sentence. I don't think there's any difference between this regime and
the Taliban regime."
Families face penalties
Adiba, 14, was forced at gunpoint to marry a 30-year-old Talib who broke
into her father's house one night. She says family members in her husband's
house tried to force her into prostitution.
When the Taliban left Kabul, she escaped from her husband's home. He, in
turn, had her uncle and a cousin arrested, which is why she turned herself in
to police.
In this tribal society, badal, or revenge, is a common theme. Often,
families can have relatives of the guilty party arrested until the accused
turns himself or herself in or pays compensation to the victim's family.
Nasreen, 30, has been in jail for months because her brother-in-law ran off
with a girl. The girl's father had Nasreen, a widow with five children,
arrested in his place.
In all, there are 14 women in the jail, sharing two tiny cells.
The jail provides only bread and water for most meals. The women buy their
own tea and sugar. On good days, a family member may bring meat and rice,
which prisoners often share.
The women do little except sit and talk, or perhaps walk in the courtyard.
They stare out a window with iron bars and a ripped screen.
Bugs crawl in the reeking cells, where the women sleep with thin mats on
the hard ground. Their blankets and pillows have not been washed in months.
Despite everything, some say they would rather be here than out on the
streets of Kabul.
"Outside of the jail, they'll be killed by their families," said a jail
guard, Khatool. "They feel it's safer to be in jail."