This AI-generated image symbolizes the fear and risks faced by media workers under extremist regimes.
During all the years I lived in Herat, my professional work in videography and photography was limited to urban areas. Despite security threats, I accepted various projects — from documenting civil protests to covering events attended by the governor and other officials. These were just career opportunities for me, but in the eyes of the Taliban, they were "crimes."
The Taliban considered any media presence at government events a betrayal of the "Emirate." They didn’t recognize professions like artist, journalist, or documentarian. Instead, they saw individuals with "connections" to the former government — often sentencing them in field courts without due process.
For this reason, I never left Herat. Traveling to Taliban-controlled provinces felt like suicide. I declined many invitations to work outside the city because of direct threats and lack of security.
Visual arts like music, painting, and filmmaking were banned or restricted. The Taliban saw them as anti-Islamic and often destroyed cameras and musical instruments. Many artists were forced to quit or work in secret.
Photographers were threatened, jailed, or had their equipment destroyed. Female artists faced even harsher bans. This oppressive policy led many creatives to flee the country. A symbolic example of this suppression was the destruction of the Bamiyan Buddha statues.
With the rise of the Taliban regime, a dark shadow fell over Afghanistan’s cultural life. Musical instruments were declared haram, music shops destroyed, and artists forced into exile. This marked not just a political shift — but a collapse of dreams and heritage.