In Afghanistan, It Takes A Soap Opera To Build Villages
A radio show offers lessons on democracy and multiple wives
KABUL—Afghanistan's first home-grown soap opera may air for only 10 minutes each day, but rehearsals are quite rigorous. As an actress practices her lines for the show's latest installment, a coach is on hand to critique. "You don't let me work?" she asks the actor playing the part of her apparently unenlightened husband. The coach interrupts to suggest that the actress opt for a bit more gusto—and a more accusatory tone. "You don't let me work?!" he demonstrates.
This radio serial has developed a steady stream of fans—from Kabul to the most isolated provinces of Afghanistan—who discuss the show's themes around, if not the office water cooler, at least the local water well. The characters in Let's Build Our Village get themselves into jams that allow the show's writers to tackle some of the touchiest subjects in Afghanistan today—topics that include the use of condoms, the marrying of child brides, and the headaches of managing multiple wives.
The show is also part of the Afghan government's effort to help rebuild war-torn villages. In a country where electricity (and therefore television) do not reach most rural areas and some 80 percent of the population remains illiterate, Village was created to spread the word about the new Community Development Councils. The lowest official level of democratic governance in Afghanistan, councils are elected by secret ballot and tasked with devising projects to improve rural towns—everything from building bridges to setting up health clinics to be funded by the National Solidarity Program in the Ministry of Rural Rehabilitation and Development.
To that end, the solidarity office hired some 108 actors—including a number of famous Afghan thespians—to play characters who populate five villages in a fictional land called Chamanistan, or Greenland. In a bit of modern-day re-education, Village also weaves in lessons about just how, exactly, this democracy stuff is supposed to work.
There are plenty of pointers about public health, too, told, for example, through the character of the town's hapless yet lovable barber. When at one point he manages to get hooked on hashish and gamble away the tools of his trade, he learns the error of his ways. In towns where barbers often function as musicians and notorious gossips as well as town doctors, he also helps raise the question: Is this really the guy you want to trust with your health?
Life lessons. Other topics are approached far more delicately. After the birth of their first baby, one couple learns from a doctor that, for the sake of the mother's health, they should hold off on having another child for a bit. When the doctor says they can still share the same bed, the couple asks how it is possible to do this and not have another child. This is where the condoms come in.
The soap's stories don't always have a happy ending. One story line delves into a feud between two families, which is resolved when the victim asks to be given his enemy's daughter as a token of reconciliation. The young bride is miserable, throws herself off the roof of her home, and dies. In another instance, a father and son are torn apart by rumors that the father is cultivating poppies. Another male character is plagued by problems in his house when he decides to take a second wife.
Despite the program's popularity, the National Solidarity Program is in the process of evaluating Village's budget. The show's funding, which comes from many nongovernmental organizations, is on the decline, says project spokeswoman Judith Szabo. "Now, we're trying to figure out, if funding is limited, where do we cut?"
But Szabo adds that Village has a fierce following and serves as a school of sorts for many rural listeners who have long relied on gossip to know what's going on. And although the plotlines may be simplistic, writer Mahmood Ghaus, who has also been a scriptwriter for the BBC, says it's just as popular among sophisticates in Kabul. "My family is constantly asking me what's going to happen next."
It's a question many Afghans pose for their nation's future as well. Economic initiatives have lagged behind in many parts of the country, and the Taliban continues to represent a major source of insecurity in rural areas. Still, Ghaus sees his country on the brink of change. "People have started to realize that they have civil rights," he says. "Now, they are learning what they can do to get them."
This story appears in the June 18, 2007 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.