A guesthouse near the village of Astana has been a hideout of mine on several occasions in the past – a getaway from the mad pressures of Kabul, a city distorted by war, violence, immense population pressure and, in recent years, the influx of large amounts of money and the ubiquitous presence of foreigners, SUVs, armed men on hire and barriers separating out those who are in need of protection. In Astana, in contrast, the Panjshir River rushes swiftly past orchards sloping down from the guesthouse, the green grass shadowed by the branches of fruit-laden trees.
Until he died, I did not know that Sultan Munadi was from Astana. In fact, I did not know Sultan very well at all. He was another young Afghan journalist I would meet, on occasion, at press conferences and stakeouts while we waited for dignitaries to come and speak to us. As happens on such occasions, one whiles away long hours by chatting with colleagues, exchanging news and gossip, and berating the authorities for delaying the events. My interaction with Sultan was no more and no less – until early September, the week he died, while working as an interpreter for the New York Times reporter Stephen Farrell.
I had not seen him for many months. By a rare chance, I happened to be in the New York Times office and met him four days before the fatal kidnapping. Seeing an old colleague after so long always feels like bumping into a friend – even more so in Afghanistan, where roots are tenuous and the changeover of people very quick. I greeted him warmly and stopped to chat. I learned about his studies; that he had come to Afghanistan for a short break, and had been asked to help out with the New York Times at a time when the volume of news emanating from Afghanistan had meant that big media organisations were rushing in large number of staff writers to cover breaking stories.
I was curious about what he felt about Afghanistan after being away, and Sultan talked about how little had changed. He was critical of the lack of progress, saying he felt it was the same people in power who were failing to deliver. He had voted, of course, and had voted for Abdullah Abdullah, the candidate whose roots are from Sultan's province. Whether it was ethnic allegiance or not, Sultan said he had voted with the hope of change. I asked what he was studying, and he mentioned public policy and good governance. I expressed the hope that these would prove useful when he returned to Afghanistan.