A creation of master kite-maker Nur Agha, son of Bejo.

Kabul, 2 October 2013

Over the past few days I’ve seen many of my friends that I worked with during my years as founder and director of the Foundation for Culture and Civil Society (2003-2006); in many cases I gave them one of their first proper jobs. In the generous, effusive  friendship they now offer me, each of them credits me for their current success as their ‘teacher’.

This is the best reward for the years of energy I put into this country. I don’t think a humanitarian, development expert or – as in my case – a cultural project manager can aspire to any greater achievement than this: to have contributed, apparently meaningfully, to the well-being of his friends.

Omar, who didn’t even contemplate getting a job when I met him in his Dad’s office back in January 2003, immediately became my trusted right hand. He accompanied me at every step as I created and rapidly developed the Foundation for Culture and Civil Society. I asked him to specialize in research, outreach and publishing. Now, after a master degree in Cultural Anthropology from Columbia and years leading Kabul’s American Institute for Afghan Studies – which has made him an influential expert on Afghan history and politics – he’s on his way to getting a PhD in Boston. He could certainly become one of the country’s main intellectual figures.

The same applies to Sapand, who has also pursued an academic career, but in Pashto language at Kabul University. I met him one day when I was supervising a mobile theatre project in Khost, in May 2004. After he told me off for thinking I could order him around, I asked him to join the FCCS as a regional coordinator. He later became the director of the Open Media Fund for Afghanistan, supporting small print outlets in the regions. As a junior professor at Kabul University, he has now initiated internet projects such as the first Pashto-English online dictionary and the digitizing of all Pashto-language PhD theses produced in Afghanistan, besides running some import-export activities in the media and ICT field.

Abed, who had come to Kabul from Mashad in 2003 to find a job, was about to move on in despair to his ancestral base Maimana to open a shop or something when I bagged him as graphic designer. Like his friend Behrooz he was brilliant and was soon doing websites, publishing and ICT besides graphic design. After my departure he landed a job at the US Embassy. Now he heads the Safir Group, with about 10 companies ranging from a factory producing isolation materials, mobile phone services (dial 220) and dubbing services for Afghan media to the first Afghan electronics webstore. He makes and immediately reinvests hundreds of thousands of dollars every few months but still drives in a simple car.

Behrooz was also from Mashad, a shy boy dressed in shiny black leather with hair like a rocker. He didn’t speak any English but was a complete computer wizard, so after a recruitment test he became our main IT person, developing our website, taking care of audio and video production, fixing our computers and occasionally DJ’ing for the Foundation’s parties. Through his and my connections he got a job at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at the time it was led by Rangin Spanta. He quickly impressed his fellow Herati by revolutionizing the ministry’s security and IT systems. He became the MoFA’s IT manager, and now he’s the Afghan business attaché in Switzerland.

Zahir Shah, also known as Sayyed Agha, was a boy who once came to fix my generator at home. I found him so smart and handy that I made him caretaker at the FCCS. Due to his diligence, hard work and absolute honesty he went up the FCCS’ ranks in lightning speed, to logistics director, head of procurement and head of administration and human resources. I had him follow some courses, he learnt English and how to dress smart, and he became the pillar of the FCCS, always there, always ready to find a truck at 6am or organize the transport of 40 French actors through Kabul. He is the oldest of 11 brothers, for many of whom he found jobs at other organizations, and apparently they are all doing well.

Ghulam Mohammed, an initially almost savage, always oil-stained illiterate Hazara who shadowed Sayyed Agha in his rise, became the handyman of the Theatre du Soleil during their stay at the FCCS. He once went to Paris as assistant of an Afghan theatre group and is now dreaming of continuing his travels.Similarly star-struck was Mustafa Haidari, a dilgent and friendly student from the Theatre Faculty. I loaned him as production assistant to the casting director of the Kite Runner (the FCCS organized her castings) and he went with them to West-China and then to LA, where he now has an entry in the Imdb database.

I met Zabiullah, a studious boy from Ghor, as an improbable student in my class at Sciences Po a few years ago. He had started at the FCCS as the intern on our anti-corruption program. That program, which I spinned off as Integrity Watch Afghanistan, is now one of the best research organizations in the country, led by Yama Torabi, whom I hired in 2005 (but he had a strong track record by then).

Qassem, my faithful driver, built a bigger house for his family and is still driving his car. Our research assistant Noor Ahmad Fahim is now communications manager at an Afghan bank, our small grants officer Mortaza Rahimi became a department head at the Afghan Parliament, Mujeeb Niazi does well finding grants for civil society organizations, and Pardis Popolzai has associated with Abed to run the telephone help desk 220. Zabi… I don’t know, where’s Zabi? Probably at LSE or something like that. I must be forgetting people –  I recruited about 80 staff at the FCCS.

Indeed, no women in this group. But Neda, the shy but fierce poetess that I encouraged to run for our FCCS board in Pul-e Khumri, is now Senator for that same city. Other female parliamentary candidates of Afghan civil society that we brought from the provinces to Kabul for training in 2005 are still parliamentarians.

Interestingly, the Afghans from the older generation, which I appointed in a few key posts of the FCCS, have mostly stagnated; with the exception of the incredible Dr. Niazi, the ‘koka’ (champion) of Afghan civil society and all its members, rich or poor, Uzbek, Hazara, Pashtun or Tajik, lady or man, guilty or innocent. He was one of the most prominent members of Afghan civil society, inside and outside Afghanistan, and had completed a master in sociology at Kabul University, when his life was taken in a stupid car crash a few months ago.  Read more about him here.

Of all those that I got to know as young twenty-some FCCS staffers, with almost no relevant professional experience, it seems that just about all have bright prospects today. If this is the new generation, we don’t have to worry all too much about Afghanistan. Of course this is entirely due to their own drive and talent, and maybe I can only be credited with spotting them. But if even 10% of their success is due to my guidance, it would seem I’m a good catalyst.

Here are some photos I took today of the FCCS, the building which I loved so much, in which I invested so much time. You don’t see all of it here: the other courtyards, the rooms with high ceilings, the strange staircases and basement labyrinths…

View of the West Wing, where my office was. A bit dilapidated, the garden dry

View from the FCCS main building: a new hospital has arisen on the horizon

Ghulam Mohammed, one of the only remaining staff members from my time, in front of the main building

The courtyard of the building across the road, which I completely renovated, with a giant hall. I also lived here for a couple of months in 2005-06

To my surprise the government has started a program of cultural and historic heritage preservation. I’m glad the FCCS office is part of it.