<p>With shaved heads, oversized tunics and the terrified gaze of the hunted, the drug addicts rounded up by the Taliban brace for 45 days of painful withdrawal.</p>.<p>For some, the hardliners' raids may potentially help them cast off the yoke of addiction.</p>.<p>But for many the stay at Kabul's Ibn Sina centre will just mark a short change of scene, marked by a brutal approach to forcing users off their powerful dependence.</p>.<p>Before the Taliban marched into Kabul on August 15, police in the capital would sometimes arrest addicts and transfer them to the centre.</p>.<p><strong>Also Read | <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/international/vibrant-afghan-radio-reduced-to-religious-relic-1041134.html" target="_blank">Vibrant Afghan radio reduced to religious relic</a></strong></p>.<p>But since the hardline Islamists took control, the frequency of raids on areas where addicts gather appears to have increased.</p>.<p>Hundreds of users shelter in squalid conditions at Pul-e-Sukhta, under a bridge in western Kabul synonymous with hard drugs and violent crime.</p>.<p>They recognise the rehab clinic's ambulance, and those who can lift themselves off the fetid ground stagger down the rubbish-strewn Paghman River to avoid capture, while many are too intoxicated to wake up.</p>.<p>Two Taliban fighters, armed with M16 and AK-47 rifles, prod the comatose heroin and methamphetamine users with their gun barrels as outreach workers wrestle with men before forcing them to the vehicle.</p>.<p><strong>Also Read | <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/international/world-news-politics/in-this-afghan-village-women-nurses-work-alongside-men-1040197.html" target="_blank">In this Afghan village, women nurses work alongside men</a></strong></p>.<p>Raw sewage runs straight into the boggy river bed, and the stench of urine, faeces and vomit in the crowded drug den is overwhelming.</p>.<p>Cushions, blankets, sandbags and tarpaulins make up the ramshackle camp, which is littered with the addicts' paraphernalia: syringes, wraps, foil and pipes.</p>.<p>The gunmen fire a few shots into the air to assert their authority and shock the addicts, before about 20 are rounded up and whisked away.</p>.<p>During their 45-day rehabilitation stay at the 1,000-bed centre, the men spend their time lying on cots in large dormitories or crouched in the yard, soaking up the autumn sun.</p>.<p>There is little methadone available to help wean the opium and heroin addicts, and nothing to remove the withdrawal pains for those being weaned off of meth, doctors say.</p>.<p>This morning, Emal, 36, shuffles into the registration room.</p>.<p>A volunteer, who like many others working here is a former addict, opens his logbook.</p>.<p>- Name? Emal.</p>.<p>- Your father's name? Abdul Matin.</p>.<p>- Married? Yes. I have three children, two girls and one boy.</p>.<p>- Working? Not currently.</p>.<p>- What drugs do you take? Crystal (meth).</p>.<p>- Have you been here before? Yes, three times. This is my fourth. I was discharged 10 days ago.</p>.<p>As Emal leaves, 22-year-old Bilal Ahmad, skinny and jittery, takes a seat. He is also addicted to meth, and has been through the programme before, "one or one and a half year years ago".</p>.<p>"I am happy to be here," he tells <em>AFP</em>, casting fearful, furtive glances around the room that indicate he is not. "In 45 days, God willing, we can go home."</p>.<p>The men are searched carefully when they arrive.</p>.<p>"Open your mouth. Wider. Lift your tongue," another member of staff at the clinic tells the new arrivals, before checking their shoes and clothes for traces of drugs.</p>.<p>In groups of six, they then shuffle to the tiled building that houses the showers.</p>.<p>There their baggy khaki tunics and trousers are removed and they are handed a packet of shampoo, but no towel.</p>.<p>When they emerge, dripping, they are handed over to a team of barbers who shave their heads to prevent the spread of lice, but leave their scraggy beards.</p>.<p>Some are taken to rooms lined with five beds, while others are ushered into a dormitory where around 30 men of all ages are already lying on top of their covers.</p>.<p>One childishly plays a bamboo flute. Another gestures to his mouth indicating that he is hungry.</p>.<p>Poppy cultivation was banned under the Taliban's last rule in the 1990s, but the export of heroin from Taliban-controlled areas provided the hardliners with billions of dollars during their insurgency against the United States and the Western-backed government.</p>.<p>With poppies cheap and easy to grow, Afghanistan provides around 90 per cent of the world's production of heroin.</p>.<p>Crystal methamphetamine production has also surged, created from the ephedra plant which grows wild in the country.</p>.<p>According to anti-narcotics experts, 11 per cent of Afghanistan's 34 million population are drug users, with four to six per cent addicted.</p>.<p>Since sweeping back into power, the Taliban have promised not to allow narcotics production.</p>.<p>"It is the policy of the Islamic Emirate," said Doctor Ahmad Zoher Sultani, who heads the centre located in an old US army base.</p>.<p>For now, the staff in the centre are all working without pay. Salaries have not been paid out for four months as Afghanistan's economy teeters on the verge of collapse.</p>.<p>Sultani says he was worried that the Taliban would shut his clinic when they first seized power.</p>.<p>"Their intentions towards us were not clear," he told <em>AFP</em>, adding though that the country's new rulers had "quickly told us they wanted us to continue."</p>.<p>In signs he is adapting to the new regime, the doctor has since mid-August swapped out his Western suit and tie for the traditional shalwar kameez, and has removed all of the photographs that once filled the walls of his office.</p>.<p>"Drugs are a terrible problem," he said.</p>.<p><strong>Check out latest DH videos here</strong></p>
<p>With shaved heads, oversized tunics and the terrified gaze of the hunted, the drug addicts rounded up by the Taliban brace for 45 days of painful withdrawal.</p>.<p>For some, the hardliners' raids may potentially help them cast off the yoke of addiction.</p>.<p>But for many the stay at Kabul's Ibn Sina centre will just mark a short change of scene, marked by a brutal approach to forcing users off their powerful dependence.</p>.<p>Before the Taliban marched into Kabul on August 15, police in the capital would sometimes arrest addicts and transfer them to the centre.</p>.<p><strong>Also Read | <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/international/vibrant-afghan-radio-reduced-to-religious-relic-1041134.html" target="_blank">Vibrant Afghan radio reduced to religious relic</a></strong></p>.<p>But since the hardline Islamists took control, the frequency of raids on areas where addicts gather appears to have increased.</p>.<p>Hundreds of users shelter in squalid conditions at Pul-e-Sukhta, under a bridge in western Kabul synonymous with hard drugs and violent crime.</p>.<p>They recognise the rehab clinic's ambulance, and those who can lift themselves off the fetid ground stagger down the rubbish-strewn Paghman River to avoid capture, while many are too intoxicated to wake up.</p>.<p>Two Taliban fighters, armed with M16 and AK-47 rifles, prod the comatose heroin and methamphetamine users with their gun barrels as outreach workers wrestle with men before forcing them to the vehicle.</p>.<p><strong>Also Read | <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/international/world-news-politics/in-this-afghan-village-women-nurses-work-alongside-men-1040197.html" target="_blank">In this Afghan village, women nurses work alongside men</a></strong></p>.<p>Raw sewage runs straight into the boggy river bed, and the stench of urine, faeces and vomit in the crowded drug den is overwhelming.</p>.<p>Cushions, blankets, sandbags and tarpaulins make up the ramshackle camp, which is littered with the addicts' paraphernalia: syringes, wraps, foil and pipes.</p>.<p>The gunmen fire a few shots into the air to assert their authority and shock the addicts, before about 20 are rounded up and whisked away.</p>.<p>During their 45-day rehabilitation stay at the 1,000-bed centre, the men spend their time lying on cots in large dormitories or crouched in the yard, soaking up the autumn sun.</p>.<p>There is little methadone available to help wean the opium and heroin addicts, and nothing to remove the withdrawal pains for those being weaned off of meth, doctors say.</p>.<p>This morning, Emal, 36, shuffles into the registration room.</p>.<p>A volunteer, who like many others working here is a former addict, opens his logbook.</p>.<p>- Name? Emal.</p>.<p>- Your father's name? Abdul Matin.</p>.<p>- Married? Yes. I have three children, two girls and one boy.</p>.<p>- Working? Not currently.</p>.<p>- What drugs do you take? Crystal (meth).</p>.<p>- Have you been here before? Yes, three times. This is my fourth. I was discharged 10 days ago.</p>.<p>As Emal leaves, 22-year-old Bilal Ahmad, skinny and jittery, takes a seat. He is also addicted to meth, and has been through the programme before, "one or one and a half year years ago".</p>.<p>"I am happy to be here," he tells <em>AFP</em>, casting fearful, furtive glances around the room that indicate he is not. "In 45 days, God willing, we can go home."</p>.<p>The men are searched carefully when they arrive.</p>.<p>"Open your mouth. Wider. Lift your tongue," another member of staff at the clinic tells the new arrivals, before checking their shoes and clothes for traces of drugs.</p>.<p>In groups of six, they then shuffle to the tiled building that houses the showers.</p>.<p>There their baggy khaki tunics and trousers are removed and they are handed a packet of shampoo, but no towel.</p>.<p>When they emerge, dripping, they are handed over to a team of barbers who shave their heads to prevent the spread of lice, but leave their scraggy beards.</p>.<p>Some are taken to rooms lined with five beds, while others are ushered into a dormitory where around 30 men of all ages are already lying on top of their covers.</p>.<p>One childishly plays a bamboo flute. Another gestures to his mouth indicating that he is hungry.</p>.<p>Poppy cultivation was banned under the Taliban's last rule in the 1990s, but the export of heroin from Taliban-controlled areas provided the hardliners with billions of dollars during their insurgency against the United States and the Western-backed government.</p>.<p>With poppies cheap and easy to grow, Afghanistan provides around 90 per cent of the world's production of heroin.</p>.<p>Crystal methamphetamine production has also surged, created from the ephedra plant which grows wild in the country.</p>.<p>According to anti-narcotics experts, 11 per cent of Afghanistan's 34 million population are drug users, with four to six per cent addicted.</p>.<p>Since sweeping back into power, the Taliban have promised not to allow narcotics production.</p>.<p>"It is the policy of the Islamic Emirate," said Doctor Ahmad Zoher Sultani, who heads the centre located in an old US army base.</p>.<p>For now, the staff in the centre are all working without pay. Salaries have not been paid out for four months as Afghanistan's economy teeters on the verge of collapse.</p>.<p>Sultani says he was worried that the Taliban would shut his clinic when they first seized power.</p>.<p>"Their intentions towards us were not clear," he told <em>AFP</em>, adding though that the country's new rulers had "quickly told us they wanted us to continue."</p>.<p>In signs he is adapting to the new regime, the doctor has since mid-August swapped out his Western suit and tie for the traditional shalwar kameez, and has removed all of the photographs that once filled the walls of his office.</p>.<p>"Drugs are a terrible problem," he said.</p>.<p><strong>Check out latest DH videos here</strong></p>