I spent most of the past year in Afghanistan, where I lived and taught in a rule-of-law program funded by the U.S. government at an American-run Regional Training Center. My R.T.C. housed about 700 men, primarily Afghan police trainees. The international community consisted primarily of American soldiers and civilian contractors as well as military personnel and civilians from other nations. I was the only foreign woman who lived in the camp.
Very few Afghan women ever came into the R.T.C., which was used primarily for police training. Various other groups such as the European Union Police Mission in Afghanistan, DynCorp International and the German military offered other courses, focusing on such topics as forensics, crime scene investigation, law and witness interviews. While these programs were opened to Afghans, male and female, who worked in law, law enforcement or community awareness, few Afghan women ever attended. On a normal day in a class of approximately 40 students, none would be female. On the rare occasions when women did attend, they would usually come in groups of two or four and always sat in the back.
Though these programs were in themselves worthwhile and conducted with good intentions, the accommodations in which they were administered actually undermined one of the most important messages the West is trying to send to the Afghans: the inclusion of women in education. Culturally insensitive actions — no matter how small — speak louder than any speech, grant or program.
I was told by Afghan men that women in their culture did not feel comfortable being seen entering a R.T.C. because it hurt their reputation. Many Afghan men do not want their women leaving home without permission, much less leaving it to acquire an education. Though the women who dared to enter our R.T.C. were given training, the camp facilities and services available to them were severely limited.
Upon entering the R.T.C., everyone went through a security check, but there was only one female guard available to search women, and she was often not on duty. This made the security check very intimidating and culturally unacceptable to Afghan women. The idea of allowing a strange male security officer to wave a metal detector close to their bodies, or to put his hand inside their handbags, was seen as an invasion of privacy, a breach of socially accepted norms.
Moreover, there were no female public restrooms in the camp. When I inquired about this, I was told that there was a public restroom available that anyone could use, but, in a culture so sensitive about keeping appropriate distances between men and women, I could see right away that it would be inadequate. The Afghan women were reluctant to enter.
Nor did they want to enter the camp dining hall, where they would have to sit among hundreds of leering male police trainees. They preferred to find a secluded place, like an unused classroom, and have meals brought to them.
The West is pouring millions of dollars into gender-equality programs, but we are not paying enough attention to the small stuff. We need to make training compounds in Afghanistan more user-friendly for women, especially those in rural areas. Full-time female security officers need to be hired. Facilities such as restrooms and dining halls need to accommodate the needs of Afghan women.
Most importantly, if we want to encourage local female participation, we need to hire more female international staff. When Afghan women saw me walking around the center, working with men on an equal level, they saw a symbol of what the future can be.
We put money and manpower into these countries. We say we promote gender inclusiveness and equality. Yet we forget the small stuff. We must make every effort to make our programs accommodate local women. The success of these programs and the future of women in Afghanistan depend on it.
Jade Wu is an attorney in Washington. She has worked in several international development projects abroad, including Kosovo, Iraq and Afghanistan.