Kandahar, Afghanistan

I want to write a non specific review about the villages in Afghanistan. Due to the current situation it may be impossible for Black peoples to currently visit Afghanistan, but you should know the human side of how this Black man was treated in what was known as some of the hostile areas in Afghanistan.

We hear so much about Afghanistan through the filtered lenses of news reports and social media, they often describe the conflict, hostility and differences.

My perspective comes from a different place—from being the only Black person in my unit & actually living in villages outside Kandahar.

Out mission included amongst other things winning the “hearts and minds.” of the people.

I arrived in Afghanistan carrying negative information that was briefed to me about the local people, similar to negative information spread around the world about Black people.

Everything changed when my assignment shifted, and I was assigned to an outpost living amongst the villagers in the regions south of Kandahar.

As a Black man who grew up in a poor U.S. neighborhood, I learned respect for others early in life.

This served me well. I quickly realized, that I felt safer walking in those villages than I did in certain middle and upper-class suburban streets in the U.S.

The Afghan people operate on a powerful, ancient code of “respect given is respect returned.”

On our walks through villages, the children were always the first to greet us, they were curious about our unit parading through their village.

Knowing they were watched by unseen, protective adult eyes from within the homes, I treated these children as I would want my own children treated—with kindness and patience.

I used my limited language skills to talk with them. This simple act was of kindness was the key.

Soon, fathers would emerge, not with hostility, but with quiet offers to sit and share tea and naan (flatbread). This 1,000-year-old ritual became a bridge that transcended our language barriers.

While others in my unit warned me that the tea could be poisoned, I trusted the genuine connections being built.

In my mind, the greater threat of something foreign being added to my drink existed back in the U.S. in some of the restaurants & coffee houses that were unwelcoming to Black people.

It seems word traveled fast in the villages, even without phones.
I became known by a name given to me: “Toor Jan.” I was told this described the color black with a higher degree of respect.

The point is this: Afghans judge you by your actions, not just your Blackness. Afghan people live in cities across the U.S. They do not naturally dislike us because we are Black.

My experience taught me that Blacks & Afghans share the same fundamental values.