Countless Afghans who braved the dangers to aid the UK in Afghanistan, only to escape the terrifying grip of the Taliban, now find themselves helplessly stranded in Pakistan, as they keenly await their relocation to the UK. These individuals, their lives shrouded with constant dread, are victims of an escalating crackdown on immigrants lacking visas, owing to the heightened political tension at the border.
One such individual is Marzia, a former English tutor for the British Council, who has been waiting to receive her UK visa for a staggering eight months, frustrated, pregnant, and scared. She laments, “Our lives are in danger because of the services we rendered to the UK government under the Taliban regime. We had to go into hiding.”
These Afghans, who once collaborated or provided services to the UK in various capacities, had to hastily retreat as the foreign forces swiftly withdrew with the Taliban reclaiming power in 2021. Ranging from translators for the British army to individuals involved in British-led projects to foster democracy and equality in Afghanistan, all of these brave souls are now stranded in Pakistan. They were beckoned by the UK government for visa processing, a promise that now rings hollow as many of them have been stuck there for months, even over a year, in some cases.
Without any legal access to employment or education, their days are ending in despair. Many of these Afghans fear repercussions for themselves or their families back in Afghanistan if their identities become public, as the Taliban’s ominous grip continues to tighten, despite their assurances of an amnesty for former Afghan government workers.
Furthermore, the predicament of these hopeful migrants is compounded by the fact that their passports were confiscated by the UK authorities upon their arrival, and their visas have expired.
Individuals enlisted under two notable UK government plans, ARAP (Afghan Relocation and Assistance policy) and ACRS (Afghan Citizen Resettlement Scheme), now find themselves marred with disappointment. Approximately 2,730 people identified as “primary individuals” and their dependents were registered on these programmes in Pakistan, as of September.
However, their hopes of crossing the border into safety are gradually fading away. The UK government covers their housing and food expenses, but with no scope to earn a living or to continue their education, their future remains uncertain. The once-proud helpers of the UK government now feel like forgotten Anecdotes. The painful irony of these hopeful promises turning into endless waiting hours resonates in the heart-wrenching appeal of Marzia, who pleads, “We risked our lives for them, it’s time for them to come forward and help us.”
The Sulha Alliance, a charity working for Afghan interpreters, validates their plight, expressing its concern about the slow and ineffective execution of these essential lifelines. Sara de Jong, the group’s co-founder, expresses, “Too many Afghans, whom we promised to bring to safety more than two years ago, are left behind in Afghanistan or are waiting hopelessly in Pakistan or other third countries.”
While the UK government maintains its commitment towards ensuring the safe relocation of Afghans, those living in perforated safety in Pakistan can only hope their pleas are heard urgently.
