It is now 2021. The Taliban have retaken Afghanistan’s capital after twenty years, and Kabul is plunged into fear and uncertainty. For Anjali and her four colleagues from the Anglo-American University of Kabul, the capture marks the beginning of a desperate struggle for survival. Forced into hiding and hunted for their connection to the university, the five women navigate a world where trust is low and betrayal can strike at any moment. Their only goal: to escape alive.
Enakshi Sengupta Escape from Kabul it’s both a riveting first-person account of women in crisis and a riveting meditation on freedom, courage, and the desire to reclaim one’s voice when all seems lost. Here is an excerpt from the book.
Excerpt from the book: Escape from Kabul
On an average day, the trip from Shahr-i-Naw, where the base was located, to the airport should not have taken more than nineteen minutes; it will take forty minutes at most. The route was simple: pass Shahr Now to Akbar Wazir Khan, on to Azizi Plaza, and then take the direct road towards the airport.
The minutes passed and they felt like long, tiring hours. Everyone was looking intently at the clock on the dashboard of the car, but there was no destination in sight.
Cathy and Anjali didn’t know the roads or their names. Katie drove to the airport twice, packed into a car with two soft-skinned cars protecting the one she was riding in. Anjali had arrived only a few months ago, and the road to the airport was completely unfamiliar to her. She noticed some buildings with blue glass, one of which looked like a plaza or mall, but she couldn’t read the Farsi letters.
As the car took a detour and drove towards Avesta Hospital, passed the campus of a private university near Taimani and then turned onto Market Road, Nadia muttered loudly, “Why is he taking this detour?” This is not a route to the airport. This is a completely wrong turn to Nooran Hospital. We are not destined to walk this road. What’s going on?”
Everyone looked at her in confusion. She leaned forward and asked the driver, “Why did you take the Ahmad Shah Baba road?” It’s not going towards the airport.”
The driver continued driving and focused on the road ahead.
‘Hello! I appeal to you, please answer!
Her voice became shrill as she asked the question again.
Everyone held their breath, the air in the carriage was thick with fear, and the smell of sweat was mixed with fear. Even Fauzia’s son, who was playing with a plastic toy, froze in place.
Zohra’s husband, who was sitting next to the driver, put his hand on his shoulder, understood the situation and politely asked, “Nasir Jan, are you confused?” Do you know the way to the airport? If you want, I can drive the car, I don’t mind.’
“We need to hurry, this will only cause delay, after that the crowd will start spreading on the way to the airport and we will be stranded,” Zohra’s husband said.
The driver turned to him, looked sternly at him and growled in a low voice, which in the translation of others asked her husband to sit quietly and not to disturb him. He said he knew what he was doing and was doing exactly what he was told to do.
Zohra turned to Katie and said in a voice as cold as steel, “I hope you realize that your plan has failed. We are knee deep in mud and I am sure you have no way out of it. You couldn’t have predicted that, could you? Your contacts don’t seem to be helping. You put all of us at risk, including this little boy’s life. Well done! Bravo!
Before she could speak, the car stopped. Two men opened the door, one in front, the other beside them, and roughly pushed them aside to get into the car.
The protests didn’t help; their cold gaze said enough.
Fauzia wailed.
“Ah, Allah!”
Their looks were good enough to speak for who they were and what side they belonged to. The men were of enormous stature; their soiled shirts sat on their shoulders where they had placed a checkered cloth to rest their rifles. Their long hair was tousled and twisted under small caps. Their rimmed eyes were bloodshot and sharp. Their shoes were dirty, covered with the dust of the hilly paths.
Katie shook her head, cupped her face in her hands, and continued to rock back and forth, muttering under her breath, “What have I done, what have I done?”
One of the men turned threateningly to her and told her to shut up.
Anjali, who was paralyzed with fear, looked at Abhay’s smiling face on her phone screensaver and thought, “Is this how you want me to come to you?” It’s going to be violent, just a prayer, make it quick and painless for me, can you?
Everyone in the car knew their escape plan had gone wrong. As the dust settled behind the speeding car, they all saw their dream of being safe at home shattered. They had nowhere to go, and Kabul fell.
The car wound through alleys and lanes, and the passengers inside sat helplessly. There was no traffic; ten people in an SUV was no easy task at the best of times, but now they seemed like helpless sardines in a can.
Excerpted from Escape from Kabul by Enaksha Sengupta, published by Harper Collins India.
