In the offices of Kabul, One can observe a peculiar scene daily. The once frightening Taliban fighters, who spent years in the secluded mountains and battlefields, now find themselves in the unfamiliar territory of office work. The transition from firing rifles to handling pens and laptops has been surprising. It’s a journey from a warrior to an office worker.
Imagine Mullah Janan, a seasoned warrior with a long beard and a gloomy expression, staring blankly at a computer screen. The cursor blinks back at him, almost mocking his confusion. He sighs deeply, longing for the days when his biggest challenge was finishing enemy forces, not figuring out how to format a Word document.
Across the room, Abdul, another former fighter, fumbles with a stapler.
“How does this thing work?” he mutters under his breath.
His colleague, Omar, laughs and offers a hand. “It’s not a grenade, Abdul. Just press here.”
The two share a rare moment of laughter. ‘It is a unique, funny moment in my new role in the office,’ says Abdul.
The office environment is much more different from their original life on the battlefield. The clacking sound of keyboards and ringing phones replaces the echoes of gunfire and explosions. Now, there are no more enemy threats, no more firing and no ambush. But the biggest problem is that of headaches and a dull life.
For many, this new reality is a tough pill to swallow.
“I miss the thrill of battle,” confesses Mullah Janan during a coffee break.
“This office life is…boring.” Many of his comrades echoed his sentiment. All come together to relive wartime memories.
Now, they feel like caged lions, their warrior spirits stifled by the confines of a desk job.
The Afghan government is aware of the growing discontent. They can’t send these men back to the battlefield. But they also can’t ignore their restlessness. Some officials have proposed more engaging roles, like community outreach or infrastructure projects, hoping to channel their energy into rebuilding the nation they once fought for.
In the meantime, the former fighters try to adapt. They attend training sessions on basic computer skills, though many find it hard to focus.
“I never thought I’d miss the sound of gunfire,” admits Omar, “but here we are.”
Despite the challenges, there are moments of joy. One day, a group of former fighters planned to play a “desk chair race” in the central hall. The scene of bearded men in traditional clothes running around office chairs with childlike behaviour brought laughter and made the office environment live.
We call this game a ‘musical chair game.’ But there is no music. Surprisingly, they dislike music. We hope this mindset will change in the future. But it will take time.
As the days turned into weeks, some adjusted to the daily routine. Mullah Janan, once a feared commander, now takes pride in his neatly organized desk. Abdul has become an expert in fixing office equipment. His mechanical skills are proving useful.
Yet, they can’t forget their past lives. They gather after work, sharing stories of past battles. And they dream of a future where they can feel the rush of combat.
For now, they must find out the strange new world of office work, where they can find new ways of victories.
The transition from warrior to office worker is a journey with challenges and unexpected moments of humour.
The Afghan government is mulling over the best way to use these former fighters. But, in the heart of Kabul, the battle continues–not with guns and grenades, but with pens, paper, and the occasional desk chair race.
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