هزاره ها” يا تورکهاي فراموش شده خون میگریند، دریابیمشان! – تبريزلي باي بک

Source: http://www.11008.baybak.com/il_11008_say_620.azr

Anger in Afghanistan

http://www.thenews.com.pk/10-11-2010/Opinion/14721.htm

Pashtuns strength in Afghan parliament diminished

ISLAMABAD: Pashtuns in Afghanistan have suffered a serious setback after the September 18 parliamentary elections that has reduced their presence in the Afghan National Assembly, preliminary results of the poll show.
According to the results of the second national polls of the Wolesi Jirga – the lower house of parliament – the largest ethnic group of Afghanistan, Pashtuns, have lost their dominance in the parliament.
During an interview with The Express Tribune, Deputy Speaker of the Afghan National Assembly Mirwais Yasini admitted that barely 100 Pashtun candidates could make it to the house of 249 members, which was lower than the 115 members who were elected following the first parliamentary polls in 2005.
Yasini is a Pashtun legislator from the Afghan province Nangarhar that borders Pakistan. He was also one of the candidates who contested the presidential elections in 2004 against Hamid Karzai.
He believes that the war in the Pashtun provinces led to a low voter turnout. As a result, other ethnic groups such as the Tajiks, Uzbeks and Hazaras, who are otherwise a minority, won more seats than the Pashtuns in the assembly.
Tajiks and Hazaras inflicted defeat on Pashtuns even in the populated provinces such as Ghazni, Qudooz, and Nangarhar, where they secured more combined seats than the Pashtuns. The Persian-speaking Hazara tribe also won in many constituencies where the Pashtuns have an overriding presence than other minorities.
In the Pashtun-populated provinces, the voter turnout was less than 25 per cent, said Yasini, adding that it was the highest in the Turkmen, Uzbek and Tajik-populated provinces in the north – generally between 50 and 60 per cent. Surprisingly, the turnout also remained low (34 per cent) in the capital Kabul, which is dominated by Tajiks.
According to Yasini, Pashtuns in Afghanistan constitute over 50 per cent of the population, while Tajiks are 25 per cent followed by the Hazaras who are 15 per cent. In terms of the population size, Uzbeks are the smallest. The remaining population comprises Muslim ethnic minorities Turkmen, Baloch, Gujar and Nooristanis and non-Muslim minorities Christians, Hindu, Sikhs and three Afghan Jew families.
Yasini, however, is hopeful that the Pashtun presence may rise in the National Assembly with the ten seats reserved for Pashtun Kochi (nomads). “The Kochis will help maintain a balance in the assembly,” he said, adding that they will be a source of strength for Pashtuns in the lower house.
Until then, political analysts fear that the insufficient numbers of Pashtuns in the assembly may cause problems for President Hamid Karzai, who has been pursuing his ambitious plan to integrate the Taliban in the democratic setup of the country.
Karzai and Taliban represent Afghanistan’s largest ethnic group of Pashtuns and their recent peace talks have been opposed by the Hazara tribe who were subjected to large-scale bloodshed during the Taliban rule in Kabul. The tribe also suffered during the recent clashes with the Kochis.
However, Yasini does not agree with the perception that the defeat of Pashtuns will make Karzai weak.
Afghanistan is still largely divided on ethnic lines and although candidates stand as individuals, some blocs in the parliament are formed by regional power brokers based on their ethnicity.
Others belong to various political parties and factions, many formed by warlords who fought for and against the Soviet occupation of the 1980s and in the subsequent civil war.
Published in The Express Tribune, November 8^th, 2010.

News Source: http://tribune.com.pk/story/73976/pashtuns-strength-in-afghan-parliament-diminished/

Afghanistan's new "warrior" hero Rohullah Nikpai

Click to play Click to play Advertisement Rohullah Nikpai's journey from an Iranian refugee camp to Afghanistan's sole Olympic medallist has made him a national hero. By Lyse Doucet BBC News, Kabul At a sports centre in the heart of Kabul, the sound of fighting rings out night and day. But this isn't the war that has torn Afghanistan for the past three decades. Kabul's new warriors are taekwondo fighters. In this ancient martial art of kicking and punching, one of the newest stars is 23-year-old Rohullah Nikpai - the first athlete in Afghan history to win an Olympic medal. "Each time I kick, I make sure I do it as well as I can," the young Nikpai explains. "I'm happiest when my training goes well and I achieve something good for my country." The centre, a concrete block of a room, echoes with the sharp slap of bare feet hitting plastic pads. Some two dozen young men in track suits practise kicking drills, punctuated by determined cries of battle. ROHULLAH NIKPAI - THE FACTS Region: Kabul, Afghanistan Born: 1987 Discipline: Taekwondo Career highlight: Bronze medal at Beijing 2008 - Afghanistan's first Olympic medal In any other country it would be the most ordinary of days at the gym. In Afghanistan, it is a poignant reminder of what even a bit of peace can bring - an all too rare place where young men can focus their energies and where they can even dream. When Nikpai won a bronze medal in the Beijing Olympics in 2008, it was a golden moment for him, and for Afghanistan. "When our plane touched down in Kabul it was an amazing moment to see so many of my countrymen and women at the airport," he recalls with a wondrous look, still savouring the moment when he became a national hero. Afghans poured into Kabul's Ghazi stadium to celebrate where, not much more than a decade ago, the Taliban notoriously stoned women to death. "It was unbelievable," marvelled Mirwais Bahawi, a member of Afghanistan's Taekwondo Federation who was providing live commentary from Beijing for Afghan television. "Afghans were watching it on TV in more than 17 provinces. Everyone was praying for Rohullah Nikpai and then, happiness blossomed!" At Nikpai's family home in Kabul, a traditional mud brick bungalow inside a walled compound, a cabinet bursts with bright ribbons and shiny medals, including Afghanistan's highest national honours conferred on him by the President, Hamid Karzai. Afghan taekwondo fighter Rohullah Nikpai and his Olympic bronze medal "I like all my medals but now I hope to win gold in London 2012," he declares, adding a customary "insh'allah" - "God willing". He holds his treasured red ribboned Beijing bronze in his hands. But for all the new brightness in his life Nikpai, like most Afghans, still lives with the dark legacy of war that has scattered his family far and wide. His twin sisters and some cousins visiting from Canada join us as we sit cross legged on a carpeted floor to enjoy fragrant rice sprinkled with berries and saffron. Nikpai ended his refugee life in Iran several years ago but much of his extended family still lives outside Afghanistan. Even his fiancé is living in Canada. He beams with happiness when he recounts how she called him in Beijing after his victory. Two years on from that day, the shy, slim Nikpai is still greeted with admiring looks and warm embraces wherever he goes. "I like to see friends and fans but its hard to keep stopping when I am working and on deadline," he confesses. "I think Nikpai is a very good athlete and also a good neighbour. He is friendly with everyone," remarks one Afghan who stands with a gaggle of young men who stop to watch their local hero walk down a narrow lane from his home. At a gleaming Kabul barber shop adorned with posters of footballer David Beckham's array of haircuts, Nikpai gets his barber to fashion his own look: a bit of height on top; close cropped on the sides; sealed with an expert swish of hair gel. The barber tells us it's the new "Chinese style." "No," Nikpai quickly corrects him with a mischievous grin, "its Nikpai style," his style even before he became a champion. Rohullah Nikpai (L) in action at the Beijing Olympics After the years spent in Iran, Nikpai's style is now firmly rooted in Afghanistan. And he is keen to stay despite suggestions that he could benefit from better facilities and coaching elsewhere. "I don't think we need to go abroad for training," he says. "Our athletes are good and we are getting ready for the next competitions." Their training centre benefitted from support from Korea, where taekwondo originates, with a gift of equipment including chest guards and other protective wear. "No one is helping us now," regrets Mirwais Bahawi from the Afghanistan Taekwondo Federation. But he says they will approach countries like Korea, and Japan, as well as Britain for some assistance in the run up to the London 2012 Games. As we watch Nikpai and his fellow athletes I remark to Mirwais Bahawi that it must be difficult to be an Olympic athlete in a country still at war. He answers with a trademark Afghan nonchalance. "It's hard," he admits. "But it's easy for Afghans." Through the door, we can see Nikpai, his back bent, as he pauses for breath in a demanding training regime. Across his T shirt, "Afghanistan" is embossed in bold bright print. News Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/olympic_games/world_olympic_dreams/9155921.stm

Afghanistan's oppressed Hazaras use vote to claim a voice

Agence France-PresseKabul, November 07, 2010

First Published: 08:17 IST(7/11/2010)
Last Updated: 08:18 IST(7/11/2010)

Afghanistan's most repressed ethnic group, the Hazaras, have used their vote in recent parliamentary elections to win themselves a political voice that could change their fate. Throughout the war-shattered country's history, Hazaras have occupied the bottom rung of society, and as Shia Muslims in a country dominated by Sunnis were brutalised by a succession of rulers.

In post-Taliban Afghanistan, however, Hazaras are making democracy work for them, and look likely to take 20% of the seats in the recent parliamentary poll. "Hazaras have always been repressed and abused by their rulers," said Ahmad, a Hazara intellectual who refused to give his surname because of the political sensitivity of the issue. "The new system, the democracy that we have had since the fall of the Taliban, is seen by Hazaras as a great chance to prove their existence."
Hazaras account for 10-15% of Afghanistan's population, which is estimated to be 30 million, although there are official census data. They dominate the country's central highlands, a region surrounded by the conservative Pashtuns, Afghanistan's traditional rulers from the south and east, and the urbanised, liberal Tajiks in the north and west.
For most of the past 200 years, Hazaras -- descendants of Mongol conqueror Ghengis Khan, whose hordes rampaged across the region in the 13th century -- have been treated as second-class citizens, banished to low-status, low-income jobs.
Whenever Hazaras have risen against the repression, they have been brutally subdued by their Pashtun rulers, who sometimes massacred entire clans and then doubled taxes on others.
The Taliban, the ultra-conservative Islamists who ruled Afghanistan from 1996-2001, kept up the tradition and made abusing the Hazaras one of the defining points of their brutal regime.
But since the Taliban were thrown out of power in a US-led invasion, the Hazaras have learned how to make the new system, a Western-backed democracy, work in their favour.
The September 18 parliamentary poll, the country's second since the end of the Taliban era, marked a significant milestone on the Hazaras' rocky journey to equality. Preliminary results show that Hazara candidates won more than 50 of the 249 seats in the lower house of parliament, the Wolesi Jirga.
"As a Hazara I'm absolutely satisfied with the results," said Ahmad, reflecting the growing confidence of the Hazara community.

News Source: http://www.hindustantimes.com/Afghanistan-s-oppressed-Hazaras-use-vote-to-claim-a-voice/Article1-622934.aspx

Afghan refugees tune in

 

LIAM PENDER

28 Oct, 2010 02:56 PM

 

FREE speech can often be taken for granted by Australians but for the refugee Hazara people from Afghanistan it is a gift to be treasured.
This month the radio airwaves of Parramatta and Holroyd were graced for the first time by the Hazaragi language (a dialect of Persian).

Keen to exercise rights denied them in their homeland, the Hazaras have set up a Sunday evening radio show on 2CCRfm 90.5.

‘‘When people come to Australia their basic needs are provided; what’s missing is the psychological and cultural teaching around values,’’ voice of the show Mosa Gherjestani from Merrylands said.

‘‘People should be made aware of the system and the things they should do to get a good outcome for themselves and to be productive in the community.’’

Radio Payam attempts to bridge the gap between Afghan refugees and the Australian lifestyle, while preserving their culture.

■ The Hazara radio show broadcasts 6pm on Sunday and at least 500 Hazara families have begun to listen.

News Source: http://www.parramattasun.com.au/news/local/news/general/afghan-refugees-tune-in/1982089.aspx

Billions in Afghan aid fail to beat medieval disease

 

By Lynne O'Donnell (AFP)

News Source: http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5gIRDZUuIKpBtxSimLLmem6988jIg?docId=CNG.c9529d294ccdcbcbfb96202f1531748e.31

YAKAWLANG, Afghanistan — Mossa lives on the top of an Afghan mountain four hours' walk from the nearest road in one of the poorest parts of the world and cannot remember the last time he washed.
A creeping pattern that looks like a fossilised fern decorates his right forearm -- the tell-tale sign that he has leprosy.
His body has gone into shock as it reacts to the infection, said Dr Ali Moral, who points to the 17-year-old's swollen red face, arms and legs.
"The first sign of the disease is the skin lesions with no sensation -- no burning, irritation, itching or pain, just no sensation at all," Moral said, prodding Mossa's arm to prove its numbness.
"The nerves become enlarged and thick. Then the eyebrows fall out -- that is another major tell-tale sign. Then the eyelids become perforated and paralysed, the patient cannot close the eyes so they can't blink, the eyes become dry and eventually they go blind.
"The hands become clubbed," he said, illustrating the effect by tightening his fingers into claws. "The nerves pull the fingers inwards. It destroys the eyes, hands and feet. They are disfigured for all their life."
Leprosy is a disease that conjures up visions of medieval dirt, destitution and extreme disfigurement, of people confined to colonies while parts of their body -- fingers, toes, nose -- rot and fall off, and where they eventually die.
While today's reality is a long way from that apocryphal picture, that the disease still exists in Afghanistan is a commentary on how little development has come since the Taliban were overthrown in a US-led invasion.
Despite tens of billions of dollars in aid money flowing into the country since 2001, living conditions for millions of Afghans have changed little from those of centuries ago.
The Afghan government of President Hamid Karzai has complained that it lacks control over much of the aid money -- more than 40 billion dollars in less than a decade -- and that oversight by donors is so poor cash is easily diverted or embezzled.
Officials have estimated that about a third of the money has gone directly to the firms that win the development contracts from donors such as USAID.
Many billions are believed to have disappeared into Afghanistan's maw of official corruption, or been wasted on misguided or short-sighted projects.
A US government audit last month found that around 18 billion dollars was unaccounted for, snagged in a "labyrinth" of contract bureaucracy.
Earlier this year, Afghanistan's Western backers agreed to give the government greater control of aid money -- up to 50 percent from 20 percent -- and to improve their own oversight of development funds.
What provincial officials say they need is the basics -- roads, power, hospitals and schools -- to drag their regions into the current century.
Moral's tiny clinic -- three minutes by motorbike from the house he was born in -- is testimony to unfulfilled need.
For the past decade he has run the clinic for German charity Lepco in Yakawlang, a district of about 65,000 people almost 3,000 metres (9,000 feet) up in the mountains of Bamiyan province, in Afghanistan's central highlands.
The region is famous for the huge Buddhas that were blown up by the Taliban in early 2001, for the azure Band-i-Amir lakes, for breathtaking landscape, and as one of the few areas to escape the worst of the war.
The people here are mostly Hazaras, believed to be descended from Ghengis Khan's 13th century hordes who rampaged across Central Asia.
As Shiite Muslims in a Sunni-dominated country they are at the bottom of most demographic ladders -- impoverished, uneducated, marginalised and, under the Taliban's 1996-2001 regime, massacred.
Squatting beside Mossa's foam-mattress bed on the floor of a cold concrete room he is sharing with an elderly tuberculosis sufferer, Moral said the only way to find lepers was to look for them.
He found Mossa while on a regular mobile-clinic tour of four Afghan provinces, looking for people suffering from leprosy or tuberculosis.
Moral has this year found nine leprosy sufferers in the provinces he tours -- three in Bamiyan, the others in surrounding Daikundi, Ghor and Sar-E-Pul, he said, adding: "That's half the number I had last year."
The UN's World Health Organisation (WHO) puts the number of confirmed new leprosy cases detected so far this year at 26, about half the number in 2009.
Afghanistan has 10 leprosy clinics across the country, where WHO provides the drugs and funding for treatment, said Mohammad Reza Aloudal, WHO's national coordinator for tuberculosis and leprosy.
Moral said the main obstacle to finding lepers is that the disease incubates for between five and 20 years, and so is difficult to detect before the lesions start appearing.
While it is not as contagious as myth would have it, leprosy can be passed on if contact is prolonged and close -- as it is among large Afghan families such as Mossa's, with 12 siblings living in a small mud house.
"I've been doing this for 10 years," Moral said. "I spend half my time on the road.
"When I first started doing this, we found more leprosy patients more often, but it has decreased in these past 10 years.
"Now we only find them in the remote areas, in the valleys where people have no access to clinics, they don't have enough food, hygiene is very poor, life conditions are very poor and haven't really changed for hundreds of years."
Of course, he said, he dishes out advice on hygiene, on not having livestock living in the house, on washing body and clothes at least now and then.
"But it is not possible in the remote areas. They live on the mountain, they don't have running water or electricity," he said. "Hygiene definitely plays a role in getting leprosy."
Moral said he thought to drop in on Mossa's family as he was passing by Dari Chost, 100 kilometres west of Yakawlang, at the end of his October tour last week.
"There is no road, the village is on a mountaintop, I walked four hours to get there," he said.
"I found his brother some years ago, and yesterday I found him," he said of Mossa.
"His body is reacting to the multi-bacterial infection. He is swollen in the face, arms, legs. He can't walk. The reaction is feverish, body and muscle pains, extreme weakness.
"Last night I gave him medicine to bring down the inflammation, decrease the swelling. He has been like this for a week. If he was like this for longer, he would be disabled for the rest of his life," he said.
Moral said he had found Mossa in time to treat the disease with a cocktail of drugs, with hopes of a full recovery -- eight months to deal with the reaction, and a year to cure the leprosy.
Mossa certainly caught the disease from his brother, Moral said, adding that 80 percent of people worldwide have natural immunity.
"Mossa's brother also had a reaction. It was during the winter so they couldn't get treatment. His hands are now clubbed, his arms are paralysed, his eyelids are paralysed. He must be cared for by his family. Marriage will be difficult."
Mossa's father Ishmael, 60, sits worrying at the foot of his son's bed.
Neighbours in his village of 30 families are good to them, he said, but they don't know that the boys have leprosy. If they did, the stigma is such that no one would ever come near them again, he said.
The family are so poor that they look after other people's livestock. They are illiterate, the nearest school four hours' walk away.
As Moral examined the lesion on Mossa's forearm, he said the boy had probably been developing signs of leprosy for about two years.
"We have to keep him here for observation, to prevent disability setting in, so he will be here for the next eight months at least," he said.