Ask Onix
Warning: This article contains distressing details.
Desperation in Ghor as families go hungry
At dawn in Chaghcharan, the capital of Afghanistan's Ghor province, hundreds of men gather along dusty roadsides, hoping for work that may never come. For many, the search determines whether their families eat that day.
Juma Khan, 45, has secured only three days of labor in the past six weeks, earning between 150 and 200 Afghani ($2.35-$3.13) per day. "My children went to bed hungry three nights in a row," he says. "My wife was crying, so were my children. I begged a neighbor for money to buy flour. I live in fear that my children will die of hunger."
A nation on the brink
The United Nations reports that three in four Afghans cannot meet basic needs, with unemployment rampant and healthcare systems collapsing. Aid, once a lifeline for millions, has plummeted to a fraction of its former levels. The U.S., formerly Afghanistan's top donor, slashed nearly all funding last year, while other key contributors, including the U.K., have drastically reduced support. Current UN data shows aid this year is 70% lower than in 2025.
Hunger has reached record levels, with 4.7 million people-over a tenth of the population-one step away from famine. Ghor is among the hardest-hit provinces.
Scenes of despair
Rabani, another job seeker, recounts receiving a call that his children hadn't eaten for two days. "I felt like I should kill myself," he says, his voice breaking. "But then I thought, how will that help my family? So here I am, looking for work."
Khwaja Ahmad, an elderly man, struggles to speak through sobs. "We are starving. My older children died, so I need to work to feed my family. But I'm old, so no one wants to hire me."
When a local bakery distributes stale bread, men scramble to grab pieces. In two hours, only three laborers are hired from the crowd.
Unthinkable choices
In nearby communities, families make devastating decisions to survive. Abdul Rashid Azimi weeps as he explains his willingness to sell his seven-year-old twin daughters, Roqia and Rohila. "I'm poor, in debt, and helpless," he says. "If I sell one daughter, I could feed the rest of my children for at least four years."
Their mother, Kayhan, reveals their diet consists of bread and hot water. Two teenage sons polish shoes, while another collects rubbish for fuel.
Saeed Ahmad sold his five-year-old daughter, Shaiqa, to cover her medical expenses after she developed appendicitis and a liver cyst. "If I had money, I would never have taken this decision," he says. "But I thought, what if she dies without the surgery? This way, at least she will be alive."
Collapse of aid and healthcare
Two years ago, Saeed's family received food aid-flour, oil, lentils, and child supplements. Today, such assistance is nearly nonexistent. Severe drought has worsened conditions, affecting over half the country's provinces.
The Taliban government, which took power in 2021, blames the previous administration for creating an "artificial economy" fueled by U.S. dollars. "After the invasion ended, we inherited poverty, hardship, and unemployment," says Hamdullah Fitrat, deputy spokesman for the Taliban. However, donors cite the Taliban's restrictions on women as a key reason for withdrawing support.
Fitrat rejects responsibility, stating, "Humanitarian assistance should not be politicized." He points to long-term economic projects, including infrastructure and mining, but acknowledges these offer little immediate relief.
Children paying the highest price
Mohammad Hashem's 14-month-old daughter died weeks ago from hunger and lack of medicine. "When a child is sick and hungry, it is obvious they will die," he says.
A local elder notes that child mortality from malnutrition has surged in the past two years. In Chaghcharan's graveyard, small graves outnumber adult ones two to one.
At the provincial hospital's neonatal unit, every bed is occupied, many with underweight babies struggling to breathe. Nurse Fatima Husseini says up to three infants die daily. "In the beginning, it was hard to see children dying. Now it's almost normal," she admits.
Dr. Muhammad Mosa Oldat, who runs the unit, calls the 10% mortality rate "unacceptable." "Because of poverty, patient numbers rise daily, but we lack resources to treat them properly," he says.
Six-week-old Zameer suffers from meningitis and pneumonia, but the hospital lacks MRI equipment. Most families must buy medicine from outside pharmacies. "Sometimes, we use leftover medicine from better-off families for those who can't afford it," Fatima says.
Gulbadan's premature granddaughter was discharged after stabilizing, but her family couldn't afford hospital costs. Baby Zameer was also taken home, leaving their survival uncertain.
No end in sight
With aid dwindling and economic prospects bleak, families in Ghor face impossible choices. "We've had help from no one-not the government, not NGOs," says villager Abdul Malik. For now, the cycle of hunger and despair continues unbroken.
